Addie stared at the white feather in her hand.
It wasn't like the usual small bird feathers she sometimes found in the garden.
This one shimmered faintly — like light was trapped inside it.
She didn't move. She just stood there, under the tree, the air quiet around her, the world holding its breath.
Her heartbeat picked up.
And deep down... a whisper tugged at her thoughts:
> "You don't belong here."
She put the feather in her pocket and walked away quickly.
---
The old church wasn't far. Just five minutes from campus, down a quiet lane lined with yellowing trees and broken streetlights. No one really went there anymore — just old people or people looking for silence.
But for Addie, it always felt like the only place where her thoughts didn't scream so loud.
She pushed open the wooden door.
It creaked, just like it always did.
Inside, it was dim. Candles flickered near the altar. Dust floated in the air like falling snow.
A man in a grey robe was sweeping quietly near the front.
"Father Daniel?" she called softly.
He looked up and smiled warmly. "Addie. It's been a while."
She walked down the aisle slowly, holding the feather in her hand. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"
"Of course, child."
They sat on the old wooden bench near the front.
She didn't know how to start. So she just opened her hand and showed him the feather.
"Does this mean anything to you?"
He leaned closer, squinting at it. His smile faded just a little.
He didn't speak right away.
Then he said quietly, "Where did you find this?"
"In the garden," she said. "But I've been seeing it in my dreams for years. It's always there. And… there's a little girl too. And a man. With silver eyes."
The priest looked at her for a long moment.
"Do you believe in other worlds, Addie?" he asked gently.
She blinked. "You mean like Heaven?"
"No," he said. "I mean… before Heaven. Beyond Earth. Realms that exist but cannot be seen with human eyes."
She didn't answer.
Because something inside her already knew the answer.
Father Daniel continued, "Some children are born with traces of where they came from. A past life, maybe. A sealed memory. And sometimes, the soul remembers what the body forgets."
She stared at him. "Are you saying I've lived before?"
"I'm saying… you may not be who you think you are."
Her throat tightened.
Suddenly, the candle beside them flickered wildly.
She looked down at the feather again — and saw something strange.
A glowing mark appeared faintly on the skin near her wrist. Just for a second — a golden pattern like a wing — and then it vanished.
She gasped, pulling her sleeve down quickly.
Father Daniel saw it too. His eyes widened slightly.
"Have you told anyone else about your dreams?" he asked.
"No," she whispered.
"Keep it that way," he said. "Not everyone would understand."
---
She left the church feeling colder than when she came in.
The clouds above looked darker now, like they were listening.
The air around her felt heavier.
And in her chest… a quiet fear had bloomed.
Later that night, back in her room, she sat on her bed holding the feather.
The mark hadn't come back. Her wrist looked normal again.
But she knew she hadn't imagined it.
She closed her eyes.
And the little girl's voice came again…
"I miss you more than the stars, Mommy…"