ECHOS OF THE PAST

5. Brunch then?

The 7:00 AM alarm blared through the apartment, jolting me from a fitful sleep. I slapped it off with more force than necessary, the sound grating against my nerves. When I finally dragged myself out of bed, the clock read 11:45 AM. The day was already slipping away, lost to exhaustion and a gnawing sense of dread that seemed to grow with each passing hour.

The apartment was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that presses in on you, making you hyper-aware of every creak and whisper of sound. The faint hum of the refrigerator was the only noise in the otherwise still morning. Mona was likely still passed out in her room, recovering from yet another night of indulgence. I envied her ability to escape so easily into the chaos of her own life, while I was left to wrestle with the darkness that seemed to be closing in around us.

It had been two days since I returned to the apartment, two days of trying to piece together a puzzle that seemed to shift and change with every new discovery. My mind was a tangled mess of fear, determination, and a growing sense of urgency. The shadow that had haunted Lillian was now looming over us, and I could feel its cold breath on the back of my neck.

I toyed with the idea of extending my leave from work or putting in a request to work from home. How could I focus on anything else when the stakes were so high? But the thought of explaining any of this to my boss made me want to laugh—or maybe cry. How could I possibly articulate the nightmare that was unfolding before me?

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog of fatigue from my mind. There was no time to dwell on my own fears. I had made a promise to protect Mona, and I would keep it, no matter the cost.

Mona was out there, living her life on the edge, while I was working behind the scenes, digging through the remnants of the past in search of answers. Each night, after everyone else had gone to bed or passed out on the couch, I would dive into my research, scouring news articles, old records, and social media for any clue that might shed light on Lillian's death and the curse that now threatened Mona.

I sat on the bed with my laptop, the dim glow of the screen casting shadows on the walls. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, each time hesitating for a moment before I began typing: Lillian Powers, freak accident, death.

The search results flooded the screen, a torrent of headlines and articles that painted a picture of tragedy and mystery. "Local Woman Dies in Cliffside Fall," one headline read. Another, more sensational, declared, "Mysterious Death at Sunrise Point: Suicide or Something More Sinister?" My heart pounded as I clicked through each one, absorbing every detail with a growing sense of unease.

Lillian's death had been ruled an accident, but whispers of something more had circulated in the small town where she lived. Some articles mentioned Lillian as a beloved teacher, known for her warmth and kindness. Others hinted at her strange behavior in the weeks leading up to her death—erratic, paranoid, as if she were running from something only she could see.

One article, in particular, caught my attention: "Friends Mourn the Loss of Beloved Teacher: 'She Wasn't Herself in the End.'" It included quotes from her colleagues and students, all of whom spoke of a woman who had once been vibrant and full of life but had become withdrawn and fearful in her final days. They described the last time they saw her as a shadow of her former self, always looking over her shoulder as if she were being followed.

My heart ached for Lillian, for the fear she must have felt in those final days. But the more I read, the more determined I became. I couldn't let Mona suffer the same fate. I had to find a way to break this curse, to protect her from whatever darkness was lurking in the shadows.

As the night deepened, the sense of dread clung to me like a heavy fog. Even as I resolved to help Mona, to protect her from whatever was coming, the weight of everything I had discovered pressed down on me. I needed to keep my mind focused, to find answers before it was too late.