Chapter 36

Chapter 36
My mother’s voice.

It floated through the doorway like a memory that had somehow learned how to breathe.

“Aili…”

Soft. Gentle. Familiar.

Every muscle in my body locked.

Nick stepped slightly in front of me without thinking, his arm brushing mine — protective, steady. I felt the warmth of him, solid and real, grounding me when everything else suddenly felt unreal.

“Stay behind me,” he murmured.

“I can’t,” I whispered, my throat tight. “That’s my house.”

The porch light flickered again, casting long shadows across the yard. The front door swayed slowly on its hinges, creaking in the quiet evening air.

Nothing inside moved.

No footsteps.

No voices.

Just darkness.

Nick glanced at me, searching my face. “Is your dad supposed to be home?”

I shook my head. “He works late on Thursdays.”

“And your gran?”

“She was resting when I left this morning.”

A chill slid down my spine.

The voice came again, drifting from somewhere deep inside the house.

“Aili… come inside.”

My breath caught.

Nick’s jaw tightened. “That doesn’t sound right.”

I swallowed hard. “It sounds exactly like her.”

We stood there for a moment, frozen on the porch, the world holding its breath around us. Even the wind had gone still.

Then, slowly, I stepped forward.

Nick grabbed my wrist instantly.

“Aili.”

I turned to him.

His expression had changed — serious, worried, protective in a way that made my chest tighten.

“Let me go first,” he said.

The words weren’t dramatic. They weren’t loud.

They were simple.

Certain.

And for some reason, that made my heart beat faster.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said softly.

“Yeah,” he replied, meeting my eyes, “I do.”

The air between us felt charged — heavy with things neither of us had said yet. Fear. Trust. Something warmer hiding underneath both.

For a second, we just stood there, staring at each other, the tension stretching thin.

Then another sound broke the moment.

A soft thud.

From inside the house.

Nick released my wrist slowly and pushed the door open wider.

The hallway beyond was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the living room lamp. Everything looked normal — the coat rack, the framed photos on the wall, the familiar rug beneath our feet.

But the silence felt wrong.

Too thick.

Too watchful.

We stepped inside together.

The door clicked shut behind us.

I flinched at the sound.

“Aili?” Nick said quietly. “Call out to them.”

My voice felt small in the stillness.

“Gran?”

No answer.

“Dad?”

Nothing.

The house didn’t echo the way it usually did. The air felt heavy, like sound itself had been swallowed.

Then I heard it.

A faint humming.

Low. Slow. Familiar.

My chest tightened.

“That song,” I whispered.

Nick turned toward me. “What song?”

I moved down the hallway, my heart pounding harder with every step. The humming grew louder, clearer — soft and melodic, drifting from the living room.

I knew that tune.

I’d heard it before.

My mother used to hum it when I was little.

Nick followed close behind, his presence steady at my side.

We reached the doorway.

And stopped.

Gran sat in her chair near the window, exactly where she always rested — blanket draped over her lap, knitting needles in her hands.

But she wasn’t knitting.

She wasn’t moving at all.

She was staring straight ahead.

Unblinking.

“Gran?” I whispered.

No response.

My pulse began to race.

I stepped closer.

“Gran, it’s me.”

Still nothing.

Nick moved beside me, his voice low. “Aili… something’s not right.”

I reached out slowly and touched her shoulder.

Her skin felt cold.

Not icy.

Not dead.

Just… wrong.

Then, suddenly, her head snapped toward me.

I gasped.

Her eyes locked onto mine — wide, glassy, and unfamiliar.

For a split second, I didn’t recognize the woman sitting in front of me.

Then she blinked.

Life rushed back into her expression.

“Aili?” she said, confused. “When did you get home?”

Relief crashed through me so hard my knees nearly gave out.

“Gran,” I breathed, wrapping my arms around her. “You scared me.”

She frowned, looking between me and Nick.

“Why are you both staring at me like that?”

Nick exhaled slowly beside us. “You were… just sitting here. Not moving.”

Gran’s brows knit together.

“I must’ve dozed off,” she said. “Old bones get tired.”

Her voice sounded normal.

Her eyes looked normal.

Everything about her was normal.

But the knot in my stomach didn’t loosen.

Because the humming had stopped.

Completely.

Nick helped Gran stand, guiding her gently toward the kitchen.

“Let’s get you some tea,” he said calmly.

She smiled faintly. “You’re a good boy, Nicholas.”

He gave a small nod, but his eyes flicked toward me — alert, uneasy.

When Gran disappeared into the kitchen, the silence settled again.

Heavy.

Lingering.

I turned slowly, scanning the living room.

Everything looked ordinary.

The lamp.

The couch.

The family photos.

My gaze landed on the old mirror hanging above the fireplace.

And that’s when I saw it.

My reflection stood there — pale, tense, breathing fast.

But Nick’s reflection…

Wasn’t behind me.

My heart skipped.

I froze, staring at the glass.

Nick stood just inches away in real life. I could feel the heat of him, hear his steady breathing.

But in the mirror…

There was only me.

Alone.

Cold dread spread through my chest.

“Nick,” I whispered.

He stepped closer. “Yeah?”

“Come stand right here.”

He moved beside me, shoulder brushing mine.

Still nothing.

No reflection.

My hands began to shake.

“Do you see yourself?” I asked quietly.

He leaned forward, frowning at the mirror.

Silence stretched.

Then his expression shifted.

Confusion.

Then something darker.

“No,” he said slowly.

The word landed like a stone.

My pulse thundered in my ears.

Before either of us could speak again, the humming returned.

Soft.

Slow.

Right behind us.

We spun around.

No one was there.

The sound drifted through the room, circling us like a whisper.

Then it stopped.

And from somewhere deep inside the house, a voice spoke — clear, calm, and unmistakable.

Not my mother’s.

Not Gran’s.

Mine.

“Aili… he shouldn’t be here.”

The room went still.

Nick’s hand closed around mine instinctively.

Warm.

Protective.

Real.

But the mirror behind us flickered once.

And for a single terrifying second…

Nick’s reflection appeared.

Standing beside me.

Smiling.

Not at me.

At something behind us.