I had never met Aerin in person before.

We only talked online for a few weeks. He said I seemed “interesting” and different from others. When he invited me to his family’s house for the holidays, I didn’t know what to say. I was surprised. Maybe even scared.

But I said yes.

Now, I’m standing in front of the biggest mansion I’ve ever seen.

It’s old—really old. The walls are covered in vines. The windows are tall and thin, like eyes watching me. The sky is cloudy, and cold wind blows my hair into my face.

Then, I hear it.

A soft whisper. Right near my ear.

“Lyra…”

I turn around quickly. But no one is there.

My heart beats faster.

That whisper… it said my name.

I walk slowly to the front gate. It opens by itself with a loud creak. I step inside, even though every part of me is screaming to leave.

At the front door, Aerin waits. He smiles. He looks even more handsome than in his pictures—silver eyes, black coat, and snow in his dark hair.

“You made it,” he says.

I smile, though my hands are shaking. “Yeah. I did.”

Inside the mansion, it smells like old books, firewood, and something sweet I can’t name. There’s a fireplace in every room. Paintings of people I don’t know line the halls. Their eyes seem to follow me.

Aerin shows me my room. It’s warm, with a big bed and a window that looks over the forest. I try to relax. But something still feels wrong.

At dinner, I meet his family.

His father is quiet. His mother watches me without blinking. His little sister sits beside me—but never speaks. She just stares.

I try to eat. But I keep hearing it.

That whisper again.

“Lyra…”

No one else hears it. Only me.

After dinner, Aerin tells me, “You can explore the house. But don’t go near the red door at the end of the hallway. Promise me.”

“Why?” I ask.

“It’s just… old family stuff,” he says. “Some doors should stay closed.”

But I’m curious. I always have been.

That night, while everyone sleeps, I walk down the hallway. My footsteps echo on the wooden floor. The house feels colder. Quieter.

I see the red door.

It’s small. Faded. And old.

I put my hand on the handle. It feels warm.

Then I hear it again.

“Lyra… please…”

This time, it sounds sad. Like someone crying.

I pull back.

Who’s calling me? Why do they know my name?

Why do I feel like I’ve been here before?

Suddenly, a gust of wind blows through the hallway. A candle flickers out. The whisper returns—closer than before.

“Lyra… help me…”

My heart races. I run back to my room and shut the door.

But I know one thing.

This mansion has secrets.

And somehow… they’re connected to me.

I couldn’t sleep.

Even with the door locked and the blankets pulled up to my chin, I felt cold.

The mansion was silent. But not the kind of peaceful silence. It was the kind that made your heart beat louder in your ears. Like the house was listening.

Every time I closed my eyes, I heard it again.

That whisper.

“Lyra…”

Was it just the wind? Or was someone really calling me?

I sat up and looked around the room. The fire in the small fireplace had almost gone out. Only a few orange sparks glowed in the dark. The shadows on the walls moved like they were alive.

Then I saw it.

The mirror.

It stood across the room—tall, old, and covered in dust. I didn’t remember seeing it earlier.

I slowly got out of bed and walked over. My feet were cold on the wooden floor.

I stared at my reflection.

At first, it was normal. Just me. Pale face, messy hair, tired eyes.

But then… the mirror changed.

My reflection didn’t blink.

I moved my hand—she didn’t.

I stepped back. The girl in the mirror just stood there, staring.

Her eyes turned darker. Almost black.

And then she spoke.

But her lips didn’t move.

“You came back…” she said.

My heart stopped. I backed away, but the girl leaned closer to the glass.

“Don’t let them find the truth. Or they’ll take you again.”

I screamed.

The door flew open. Aerin rushed in. “Lyra?! What happened?”

I pointed to the mirror, shaking. “There was a girl—she looked like me—but she wasn’t me. She talked to me!”

Aerin looked at the mirror. “There’s no one there.”

I looked again. Just my own reflection. Pale and scared.

“I swear she was real,” I whispered.

Aerin put a hand on my shoulder. “This house… it plays tricks on people who don’t belong.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

He paused. “It means… maybe you’ve been here before.”

“What?” I stared at him. “That’s not possible. I’ve never been here in my life.”

“Are you sure?” he said quietly. “What if you forgot?”

That question stayed in my mind long after he left.

---

The next morning, I found Aerin’s little sister sitting in the hallway. Still silent. Still staring.

She held something in her hand. A small silver locket.

She reached out and gave it to me.

I opened it.

Inside was a tiny photo.

A girl… who looked just like me.

Same face. Same eyes. Same smile.

But the picture was old. Very old. Like from another time.

Written beside it in faded ink were the words:

"To my dear Lyra. Come back to me."

---

I looked down the hallway… to the red door at the end.

Something was behind it.

Something waiting.

Something calling me.

I looked down the hallway… to the red door at the end.

Something was behind it.

Something waiting.

Something calling me.

And this time, I knew—I had to answer it.

I couldn’t stop staring at the photo in the locket.

It was me. Or at least someone who looked exactly like me. But the picture was old—yellowed, cracked, and worn. How could it be me?

I touched the name written beneath it.

“Lyra…”

That was my name now. But what if… it had always been my name?

The thought sent shivers down my spine.

I looked up. Aerin’s little sister was gone, just like that. No sound. No goodbye. Only the locket remained in my hand—cold and heavy.

The mansion was silent again. The kind of silence that pressed against your ears like thick fog.

And still, I felt it.

The pull of the red door.

I stood and walked slowly down the hallway. Each step echoed louder than it should. My hand brushed the old wallpaper. It felt warm. Alive.

When I reached the end, the red door stood waiting.

Its color was deep, like dried blood. The wood was cracked, and a rusty keyhole sat beneath the handle.

My hand trembled as I reached out.

But before I could touch it, someone grabbed my wrist.

I gasped and turned around.

Aerin stood there, his eyes dark with fear.

“I told you not to come here,” he said, voice low.

“I need answers,” I said. “Who’s the girl in the locket? Why does she look like me?”

He looked at the door, then back at me.

“She wasn’t just a girl,” he said. “She was someone from this house. Someone… cursed.”

“Cursed?”

Aerin nodded. “Many years ago, a girl named Lyra lived here. She died mysteriously. Some say her spirit still walks these halls. Others say she never really left.”

I swallowed hard. “Are you saying… I’m her?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But the house remembers you. That’s why it called your name. That’s why you’re hearing whispers no one else hears.”

“Then I have to know the truth,” I said. “Even if it’s scary.”

Aerin’s face softened. He looked at me like he wanted to say something more—but instead, he let go of my wrist.

“I’ll come with you,” he said.

“But the door’s locked,” I whispered.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, ancient key.

“I wasn’t supposed to keep this,” he said. “But I always knew you’d come back.”

He slid the key into the lock.

Click.

The door opened with a long, creaking sound.

Inside, it was dark. Dust danced in the air. The smell of old wood and something sweet—like roses—filled my nose.

I stepped in first. My heart was pounding so loud I thought it would break.

The room was filled with paintings. All of them were of the same girl.

Me.

Or her.

Lyra.

In one painting, she wore a long red dress and smiled. In another, she stood in a garden full of roses. And in one, her face was turned away—but blood stained the hem of her dress.

A large mirror stood at the far end of the room.

I walked to it slowly.

It was the same mirror from my bedroom.

And once again… my reflection didn’t move.

This time, she smiled.

“You came back,” she said again.

I reached out my hand to the glass.

“Who are you?” I whispered.

She leaned forward, her hand meeting mine on the other side.

“I’m you. But I never left.”

The mirror cracked.

Aerin grabbed my arm. “We have to go!”

But I couldn’t move. My feet were stuck to the floor, as if the room didn’t want me to leave.

Whispers filled the air, louder now.

Lyra. Lyra. Lyra…

My vision blurred.

The last thing I saw before the world went dark was the reflection’s eyes—full of sorrow, longing, and something else.

A warning.