18eighteen Sarah -

She wasn't in the attic anymore. The room was vibrant, filled with the scent of lavender and candlelight. She saw a girl—no, she was the girl—standing before a mirror, wearing the dress. It was 1906. She was looking at her own face, yet it was different, older in spirit. She felt a profound, aching love for someone named Elias, and a terrifying, cold fear of a man with eyes like shadowed glass.

The vision snapped back to the present. Sarah was stumbling, grasping the mannequin for support. The bloodstain on the dress was gone. She looked at her finger. There was no cut. 18eighteen sarah

The creaking of the house seemed to settle, a deep, resonant sigh of satisfaction, as 18eighteen Sarah finally accepted the weight of the secrets she was born to carry. She wasn't in the attic anymore

She looked around the attic again. It didn't feel menacing anymore. It felt waiting. It was 1906