Chapter 37

Aili’s POV

“Aili… why did you bring him here?”

The voice drifted down from the top of the staircase again — soft, familiar, and completely wrong.

My entire body went rigid.

Nick’s hand tightened around mine, warm and steady, but I could feel the tension in him too. His jaw locked, his eyes fixed on the dark landing above us.

That voice.

It sounded exactly like my dad.

Same tone. Same rhythm. Same gentle authority.

But my dad wasn’t supposed to be home yet.

He had called this morning. Told me he was still at the hospital with Grandma. Said they would be back later — maybe tomorrow.

So who was upstairs?

Or worse…

What was upstairs?

The air in the house felt heavy, pressing against my chest like invisible weight.

Nick leaned closer to me, his voice low and controlled.

“Stay behind me.”

I shook my head immediately.

“No.”

He glanced at me, surprised.

“I’m not hiding,” I whispered. “This is my house.”

For a second, something flickered in his eyes — respect, maybe. Or worry. Probably both.

Another creak echoed from above.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Footsteps again.

One step.

Then another.

Moving toward the staircase.

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I could feel it in my throat.

Nick lifted his free hand slightly, fingers curling as if he were holding something invisible. A faint shimmer of energy pulsed around his palm — subtle, controlled.

Warlock magic.

Just a hint of it.

Ready.

Protective.

The hallway light flickered once more.

Then the figure appeared at the top of the stairs.

My breath caught.

It looked like my father.

Same tall frame.

Same broad shoulders.

Same familiar silhouette.

But something about him felt… off.

Wrong in a way I couldn’t explain.

He stood completely still, staring down at us from the shadows.

“Aili,” he said again.

My stomach twisted.

His voice echoed strangely — like it was coming from too many places at once.

Nick stepped forward slightly.

“Sir,” he said calmly. “You should stay where you are.”

The figure didn’t respond.

Instead, it tilted its head slowly to the side.

Too slowly.

Too deliberately.

A chill raced down my spine.

That wasn’t my dad.

I knew it now.

Deep in my bones.

“Nick,” I whispered. “That’s not him.”

He nodded once.

“I know.”

The lights flickered violently.

The house groaned, wood creaking as if it were under pressure.

Then the figure took a step forward.

And another.

Descending the stairs.

Each footstep sounded heavier than the last.

The temperature in the room dropped sharply, cold air wrapping around us like icy fingers.

My breath came out in a faint mist.

Fear crawled up my spine — but underneath it, something else stirred.

Anger.

This thing.

Whatever it was.

It had entered my home.

Used my father’s voice.

Tried to scare us.

And I was done being afraid.

“Stop,” I said loudly.

The word surprised even me.

The figure froze mid-step.

Its head turned toward me slowly.

I forced myself to hold its gaze.

“You are not my father,” I continued, my voice shaking but steady. “And you don’t belong here.”

For a moment, everything went silent.

Then the figure smiled.

Not warmly.

Not kindly.

A twisted, unnatural smile that stretched too wide across its face.

Nick moved closer to me instantly, his body tense.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “It’s revealing itself.”

The lights went out.

Complete darkness swallowed the house.

I gasped.

Nick’s hand found mine immediately.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered.

A faint glow appeared in his palm — soft, bluish light spreading outward just enough to illuminate the staircase.

And in that dim light…

The figure changed.

Its body flickered like a broken image.

My father’s face melted away, shifting into something pale and distorted.

Eyes hollow.

Skin gray.

Mouth stretched into a jagged grin.

A spirit.

Not human.

Not alive.

A cold wave of realization hit me.

It wasn’t my dad’s ghost.

It was something pretending to be him.

Something feeding on fear.

“Why are you here?” I demanded, my voice stronger now.

The spirit let out a low, rasping sound — almost like laughter.

Then it spoke.

But this time, the voice wasn’t my father’s.

It was deeper.

Older.

“I was invited.”

The words echoed through the house.

My stomach dropped.

Invited?

Nick’s expression darkened instantly.

“No,” he said firmly. “That’s not true.”

The spirit’s grin widened.

“It opened the door.”

My mind raced.

Door.

What door?

Then it hit me.

The mirror.

The strange activity.

The shifting energy in the house.

Something had slipped through.

Not by accident.

Through weakness.

Through emotion.

Through fear.

Nick stepped forward, placing himself between me and the spirit.

His voice turned sharp.

“You crossed into the wrong place.”

Energy flared around his hands — brighter now, stronger.

The air hummed.

Magic.

Real magic.

The spirit recoiled slightly, its grin faltering.

Good.

It was afraid.

Behind us, the kitchen light flickered on suddenly.

And then—

A rush of cold wind blasted through the hallway.

The front door burst open with a loud bang.

Curtains whipped violently.

Papers scattered across the floor.

The spirit shrieked — a high, piercing sound that made my ears ring.

Nick raised his hand sharply.

“Enough!”

A pulse of light shot forward, striking the spirit directly in the chest.

The impact sent it stumbling backward up the stairs.

Its form flickered wildly, struggling to hold shape.

For a split second, I saw something else behind it.

Water.

Dark.

Deep.

A memory.

A drowning.

A figure sinking beneath the surface.

My breath caught.

Understanding slammed into me.

This spirit…

It wasn’t random.

It was tied to something.

To a place.

To an event.

And then I remembered.

The lake.

Nick’s voice cut through the chaos.

“Aili!” he called urgently. “Focus!”

I snapped back to the present.

The spirit let out another shriek, its form twisting violently as Nick’s magic pressed against it.

But it wasn’t disappearing.

Not yet.

It needed something else.

Closure.

Release.

The same way the other spirits had needed it.

I stepped forward, my heart pounding.

“Wait,” I said.

Nick glanced back at me.

“What?”

I took a deep breath.

“It’s not here to hurt us,” I said slowly. “It’s trapped.”

The spirit froze.

Its hollow eyes locked onto mine.

Sadness flickered across its face — brief but unmistakable.

Nick lowered his hand slightly, though the glow of magic remained ready.

“You’re saying it needs help,” he said.

I nodded.

“Yes.”

The house fell eerily quiet.

Even the wind stopped.

I stepped closer to the staircase, my pulse racing.

“What happened to you?” I asked softly.

For a moment, nothing moved.

Then the spirit’s expression changed.

The anger drained away.

The twisted grin faded.

And in its place…

Pain.

Grief.

Fear.

Its mouth opened slowly.

A whisper escaped.

“Cold…”

The word barely reached my ears.

But it was enough.

A memory surfaced in my mind — something from the library research.

Years ago.

A man had gone missing near the lake during a storm.

Never found.

Declared dead.

Forgotten.

My chest tightened.

“You drowned,” I said gently.

The spirit trembled.

Nick watched silently beside me, his expression softening as he understood.

“You were alone,” I continued. “And no one ever came back for you.”

Tears burned behind my eyes.

The spirit’s form flickered again, weaker now.

Not angry.

Just tired.

I swallowed hard.

“You can go now,” I whispered.

Silence filled the house.

The air grew still.

Then the spirit exhaled — a long, shuddering breath.

Its body began to glow faintly, light spreading from the center outward.

The tension in the room dissolved instantly.

Warmth replaced the cold.

Peace.

The spirit looked at me one last time.

And this time…

It smiled.

A real smile.

Grateful.

Then its form dissolved into soft light.

Gone.

Just like that.

The lights steadied.

The wind stopped.

The house returned to normal.

Nick let out a slow breath, lowering his hand as the glow faded from his palm.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.

We just stood there in the quiet.

Finally, he turned to me.

“You did it,” he said softly.

I shook my head.

“We did it.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Then—

A car door slammed outside.

We both froze.

Footsteps approached the front porch.

Real footsteps.

Heavy.

Familiar.

The front door opened slowly.

And this time…

It really was my father.

He stepped inside, looking tired but relieved.

Behind him stood Grandma, wrapped in a warm shawl.

My chest filled with emotion.

Relief.

Safety.

Home.

But as I moved toward them, something strange caught my eye.

Nick was staring at my dad.

Not casually.

Not politely.

Intensely.

Suspiciously.

My stomach tightened.

Because Nick rarely looked afraid.

Yet right now…

He did.

And that’s when I noticed it.

For just a split second—

My father’s shadow on the wall behind him moved.

A heartbeat later than he did.