She couldn’t remember how she got here. The room was dimly lit, with shadows dancing on the walls as the flickering candlelight fought against the encroaching darkness. She felt a chill run down her spine, not from the cold, but from the eerie silence that enveloped her.


As she took a tentative step forward, the floorboards creaked under her weight, echoing through the empty space. Her mind was a foggy haze, fragments of memories slipping through her grasp like sand through fingers. She tried to piece together the events that led her to this place, but the harder she tried, the more elusive they became.


In the corner of the room, she noticed a small, ornate box. It seemed out of place in the otherwise barren room. Drawn to it, she knelt down and carefully opened the lid. Inside, she found a collection of old photographs, each one capturing a moment from a life she couldn’t recall. Faces smiled back at her, familiar yet foreign, as if they belonged to someone else.


Suddenly, a soft melody filled the air, coming from an old gramophone she hadn’t noticed before. The music was hauntingly beautiful, stirring something deep within her. She closed her eyes, letting the notes wash over her, and for a brief moment, she felt a connection to the past she had lost.


As the last note faded away, she opened her eyes and saw a figure standing in the doorway. It was a man, his face obscured by the shadows. He took a step forward, and she felt a surge of recognition. “You’ve come back,” he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of relief and sorrow.


She couldn’t remember how she got here, but in that moment, she knew she was exactly where she needed to be.