The rain ceased only when the sun had risen.
Elara awoke to thunder rolling through the sky, and light slanting through overcast clouds. She didn't move at first — her body was heavy and her brain filled with the same question over and over: Why can't I forget him?
She took a shower, got dressed and didn't look at the mirror. The last time she'd looked at herself in the mirror she'd seen a glint of gold behind her own eyes – a glimmer that wasn't hers.
When she at last did look in a mirror, nothing was again amiss. Maybe it's just stress, she thought. Or exhaustion. Or—
Her thoughts broke down.
Yes, just below her collarbone, there was something new. A faint scar — like the edge of a burn, fine and curved, a feather's edge burned into her skin.
Elara's stomach warped. She pressed her hand against it, cringing as warmth flowed under her palm.
"What the hell is going on?"
The phone rang, snatching her attention.
She seized it from the counter — Mia once more. "You're alive?"
"Barely."
"That's good, 'cause I need a hand. Some weirdo in the library wants to know you."
Elara stood still. "…What?"
"Yeah, tall, kinda unsettling. He looked like he'd just stepped out of a cologne ad — and then forgot how to smile."
Her heartbeat faltered. "Mia, did he say anything else?"
"Only that he needed to return something. He said you dropped it."
"Did you see what it was?" "Did you see what it was?"
"A book, I think. Looked old. Leather cover. No title."
Elara's pulse thundered. "Don't give it to anybody else. I'm on my way."
............................
By the time she got to the library, the sky was again beginning to grow dark. Storm clouds were forming too quickly.
Mia waved from behind the counter, her expression uneasy. "He just left. Said you'd know where to find him."
Elara frowned. "He didn't return the book?"
Mia gestured. "On the desk."
It was there — thick, leather bound, aged from sheer wear. She handled it gently. It was cold. She wiped off a little dust, and faint letters shimmered across the cover for a moment, then disappeared.
"Elara?"
Mia's voice pulled her back. "You're really pale right now. Want me to?"
The lights flickered.
The air changed.
Then a shadow flashes in the glass wall behind her – for one brief moment — tall, still, familiar.And then, for a split second, a shadow crossed behind her in the reflection of the glass wall — tall, still, familiar.
She turned. Nothing.
"Elara, what is it?"
"Nothing," she lied, holding onto the book. "I have to go."
That night, the book was on her desk, closed with a bookmark in it.
She had attempted to read it, but the pages wouldn't go — for real. parts of the text were missing They were sealed, the edges were welded as if they had never been cut.
She felt irritated. "What do you want from me?" she breathed to the silent room.
The window quivered — twice. Twice the window rattled. Wind through the trees, outside.
She rose and went to the glass, and the window shut – and freezed.
And froze.
Reflected, he was behind her. In the reflection, he was standing behind her.
Her breath hitched. She turnedImagine this!
Empty room.
When she looked back at the glass, his reflection was still there. Golden eyes. Black coat. Rain sparkling over his shoulders.
He spoke — but his lips didn't move.
The words echoed in her mind.
"You shouldn't have kept the book."
Her knees buckled. "Why are you doing this to me?"
"Because you've opened a door you should never have found."
Lightning flashed, and the reflection shattered — not the glass itself, but the image. His figure disintegrated into motes of light that floated away like feathers in the air.
As the smoke cleared the book on her desk had opened on its own.
A single page. Blank. except for one line in gold:
"He fell for you before the fall."
Elara's breath caught in her throat. She ran her finger along the line of text, but the ink was gone beneath her fingertips.
Somewhere outside, thunder cracked like the beating of wings through the sky.
And high in the distance, hidden behind the weather, there was something that gazed.
Something that was no longer supposed to be.