As she lay next to her husband, gripping his arm, she gazed at the clock ticking to 3:07 a.m.—the hour that had haunted her since the wedding. Every night for the past several months, she woke up around this time. But tonight, once the minute hand hit its mark, the air felt thick, bearing down on her chest with a weight that compressed her lungs, and sending a tremor through her pulse. The tall figure wrapped in a black veil stood at the foot of the bed, more solid than ever. Time froze once again, silence pressing in from all sides, ready to erupt, and Amelia prepared herself for the inevitable moment the figure would speak.


“Amelia,” a whisper slithered across the room, yet not quite a voice, more like a disturbing cold vibration, settling in her bones, haunting and unnatural.


“Amelia... You wanted to know! Tonight is the night you will.”