❝ you walk hand in hand with the
omen of death, don't you, harrington?
but, somehow, you're the only one
i can't run away from. ❞
→ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 she claims to hate him, but fate decided to prove her wrong.
or two teens who think they're nothi...
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THE INTENSE HEAT BEAT DOWN ON HER HEAD, THE SUN'S RAYS BLINDING AND BRIGHTENING HER VISION. As her sight adjusted to the surroundings, Aurora heard the gravel and dry soil crunching beneath her feet.
Walking through memories was strange. It took some time for her body to stop feeling numb and for her mind to gain full control over her limbs, which felt magically lighter. It was like being inside a dream, with colors vividly distorted, as if she were inside a cartoon. She hadn't expected to experience anything like Alice in Wonderland.
She raised her outstretched hand above her forehead to shield her eyes from the sunlight. Little birds chirped cheerfully as they fluttered from branch to branch among the tall trees and bushes, whose green leaves swayed gently in the warm breeze.
Once her vision adjusted to the light, she no longer needed to use her hand as a hat. In front of her, she could clearly see a Victorian-style house, recently painted navy blue with white details. Every detail of the house was familiar.
Her body, no longer numb, was struck by a chill. It was the same Creel house, only more beautiful — as if she had traveled into the past, before all those years of abandonment. Just like she had seen it before in Victor Creel's memories.
She frowned and looked around. Rory still had no idea whose mind she was in, or who that memory belonged to. But it didn't make sense for her to be in Victor's mind, since she had only entered the poor man's mind once. Had her own mind found the way back there so easily?
But what mattered was finding out where she was. She continued walking toward the front door and climbed the steps.
That stained-glass window with a red rose drawn on it shone before her eyes. She turned the golden doorknob and the door opened easily.
The smell of freshly baked chocolate cake danced through her nostrils like a wave, accompanied by the melody of a piano, voices from the television, and children's laughter.
As if she were walking on clouds, Rory tried to move slowly so as not to make any noise, walking down the hallway until she peeked into the living room, where a few children were sitting on the floor laughing and watching a movie. They had their backs to her, so they didn't see her —but since she was only inside a memory, they wouldn't be able to see her anyway, right?
She kept walking, trying to find something in the memory—a calendar or a clock—that would help her determine the time. She went into the kitchen, but nothing seemed unusual.
Then, the creak of a door closing caught her attention.
Had it been the back door or the front door?
She hurried back into the hallway, bracing herself to come face-to-face with Henry Creel since it was his house when it was brand new.
