Han stood at the edge of the dimly lit path, the distant silhouette of her mother fading into the misty horizon. It wasn’t an easy choice, leaving the warmth of her mother’s protection, but the pull of the old house was something she couldn’t ignore. It held secrets—pieces of her past she needed to reclaim, no matter the cost.
The air grew colder as she walked, the whisper of wind through the trees carrying an eerie stillness. Memories of laughter and light from the old house lingered in her mind, but now it stood as a decaying shell, its walls heavy with silence and shadows.
Yet, she knew the danger wasn’t over. Something had followed her here. Perhaps it was the weight of her own fear, or perhaps it was something darker, something real. Every snap of a twig and rustle in the undergrowth quickened her pulse, her heart a steady drumbeat against the quiet wilderness.
Han’s grip tightened around the small, worn trinket in her hand—a relic from the house she once called home. If there was any chance to set things right, it was here, where it all began. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that the old house wasn’t just waiting—it was watching.
