After the sudden death of her younger sister, Sylvie Marris retreats to the edge of the world - a windswept village carved into the cliffs of the North Sea. She rents a modest stone cottage where she plans to grieve in silence, rebuild herself, and write again. But the village is wrong. The locals greet her by name, even though she's never met them. Her rental cottage contains no mirrors and a locked drawer that scratches at night. A worn leather journal appears on her nightstand, scrawled with entries she doesn't remember writing. They begin benign. Then disturbing. And then predictive. Sylvie questions whether she's losing her mind - or whether the village wants her to. As her memories unravel and time seems to splinter, Sylvie begins to suspect that her grief may not be the only ghost haunting her. The more she searches for answers, the more the truth slips away - until she must confront the possibility that she was never meant to leave this place. Because maybe she's been here before. Or maybe she never left.
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