That night was unusually still.
Iman sat upright in bed, her heart pounding for no reason she could name. The moonlight spilled through the window, casting silver shadows across her room. something tugged at her - not a sound, not a voice, but a feeling. A pull. Familiar.
She slipped on her hoodie, feet moving before her mind caught up. The air outside was cool, brushing against her skin like a whisper. She didn't know where she was going, only that she had to go.
The forest loomed ahead, dark and silent. And there he was.
Lucien stood beneath the old cedar tree, his silhouette etched in moonlight. He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
Iman stepped closer, her breath catching as their eyes met. " Why did you call me here?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing hers. The moment they touched, the world shifted.
Suddenly, she wasn't in the forest anymore.
She was in a memory.
A ballroom bathed in candlelight. Music echoing from a string quartet. A woman in a crimson gown twirling in Lucien's arms. Her laughter - soft, like wind chimes.
Then, a scream. Blood. Fire. Loss.
Iman gasped, Stumbling back into the present. Her cheeks were wet.
Lucien's voice was barely audible. "You needed to know."
She looked up at him, her voice trembling. "Why me?"
He hesitated. "Because you're the only one who stayed."