Don Vo Domaill.
A quiet sight. A forgotten place.
At Don Vo Domaill Cemetery, a wooden signboard lay half-buried in the soil, just in front of the cemetery gate.
Inside, vines crawled over the tombstones, twisting like nature's own embrace.
The dim sunlight struggled to break through the thick canopy of leaves, casting shifting shadows on the ground.
The air was cold and quiet—filled with the scent of roses and freshly cut grass.
Then, there it was.
Emily's tombstone.
Unlike the others, it was clean, well-maintained—as if someone visited her every single day.
White roses and lavender lay gently upon the grave, their petals untouched by time.
The air was heavy with their lingering fragrance, a silent whisper of love and loss.
Two women stood before it.
Clara, eyes watering, her emotions drowning at Emily's grave.
"This is it. This is what we were looking for.
Emily and Gordon… a love unbroken."
She flipped the page.
"The lovers who were inseparable,
Their love was too strong—they died together.
On the same day. So they buried them side by side.
Incredible, isn't it?"
She looked at her friend, Ashley.
Ashley crossed her arms, unimpressed.
"So is this it? Can we go back?"
Clara rolled her eyes dramatically—but softly.
"Just a little bit longer. You need to admire the love, Ash.
They say if you stay a bit more, you can feel them."
Ashley gave her a sharp glare.
"You know I don't believe in that stuff. And besides! I'm not planning on falling in love."
Clara giggled.
"You will one day," she whispered.
Then—something caught Ashley's eye.
Her gaze drifted.
Something on Emily's grave glimmered against the cold stone.
A necklace.
Ashley whispered under her breath,
"Now that… is interesting."
She leaned closer, fingers brushing against the pendant.
The moment she picked it up—
"Ugh, this thing is freezing."
A shiver ran down her spine, but before she could react—
Something moved.
From the corner of her eye.
A woman-like figure stood in the distance,
peeking through the gap of two twin trees.
Ashley's breath hitched. She blinked.
The figure… vanished.
Clara didn't see it, so she asked,
"Are you seeing ghosts now?" she teased.
Ashley shook off the unease.
"No. That was ridiculous. I do not believe in that nonsense."
Then she focused on the pendant in her hand.
Turning it over, her heart stopped.
Two letters were engraved on the back.
R & E.
Ashley's eyes widened.
"No way…" she gasped.
Clara frowned, confused.
"What is it?" she asked softly.
Ashley leaned forward, her voice sharp with realization.
"R & E was once a major company,
Owned by two of the wealthiest families—Ravensdale and Everleigh."
She paused, staring at the necklace in her palm.
"There's no way this necklace would be lying here all this time without being stolen… unless—" She stopped. Her mind raced.
Clara's eyes sparkled with anticipation.
"Unless what?!"
Ashley inhaled sharply.
"Unless Emily… is the lost daughter.
And this town is hiding it."
Silence.
Clara's brows knitted together, her voice quiet but firm.
"That can't be right."
She shook her head, her fingers tightening slightly around the book.
"Are you certain? But the Everleighs had kidnapped her—"
Ashley cut her off, her brow furrowed, voice steady.
"That's not possible. The date of her death doesn't match."
Her mind spun, piecing together fragments of the truth.
Then, with conviction, she declared,
"Clara, I need to dig deeper."
Clara studied her for a moment, her expression unreadable.
Then, slowly, she nodded.
"You should."
Her voice was gentle, yet resolute.
"If there's something hidden here… it deserves to be found."
Then Ashley and Clara stepped into the rented house,
their movements deliberate, the air between them heavy with unspoken realization. The weight of discovery clung to them.
Sebastian, Clara's fiancé, lay on the couch, enjoying his peaceful evening—until he saw them.
He sat up, brows knitting together.
"What's wrong?"
Clara walked over to Sebastian, settling beside him.
She reached for his hand, her fingers lingering, delicate yet certain.
"I saw it," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
She was calm, composed—
Yet beneath it, something stirred.
Excitement? No. Something deeper. Something unspoken.
"Emily's grave. She's real, Sebastian. I touched it. And I… I felt something."
She told him everything, carefully, without rushing.
Every detail. Every strange sensation.
Sebastian studied her, his expression softening.
Then, with a quiet chuckle, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Slow down, Dove. Take a breath."
Clara exhaled slowly, nodding.
But her grip lingered just a second longer before she gently pulled away.
A faint smile ghosted across her lips—
But it wasn't a giggle.
It was something quieter. Softer.
As she turned toward the kitchen, a delicate warmth rose to her cheeks.
Yet even as she moved, her thoughts remained with the grave.
Ashley, however,
She was already at her desk, flipping through books, searching for something—anything.
Sebastian walked over, crossing his arms.
"Ashley… what's going on? What did you find today? A new story?"
Ashley's erratic behavior wasn't new to him.
He had known her since childhood—
Long before Clara ever entered their lives.
Back when it was just the two of them.
Ashley looked up from her book, her voice low.
"I need to know who Emily is.
Her last name.
And why this necklace—R & E—ties into it all.
I need to ask the townspeople."
Sebastian frowned.
"Necklace? What necklace?"
Ashley lifted the necklace, holding it up for Sebastian to see.
He took it without hesitation.
The second his fingers brushed the metal—
"Agh, this thing is freezing," Sebastian said.
Then something shifted.
Ashley felt it.
Instead of cold, there was warmth.
A pull. A weight she couldn't name.
Sebastian rolled the pendant between his fingers—unbothered. Clueless.
But Ashley?
Ashley forgot how to breathe.
Her chest caved in, the air thinning as the walls closed around her.
The world dimmed until only he remained—sharp, inescapable, inevitable.
This can't be real. This isn't real.
She blinked, desperate to shatter the illusion.
Willed herself to move, to break free, to deny the pull.
But it was useless.
His love was a force—ravenous, relentless.
It didn't just call her name;
It commanded her.
It held her heart as if it had always belonged to him.
And maybe—just maybe—it had.
And she hated it.
This is a lie. This is not mine.
Ashley swallowed hard, her throat dry.
Sebastian looked at her, eyes unreadable.
Their gazes locked.
It felt like devotion.
Like something that could break her.
It felt like…
Love.
She parted her lips.
She tried to call him.
Then— A sudden sound from the kitchen.
A breaking glass.
The moment snapped.
Sebastian blinked, expression shifting.
He placed the necklace down without hesitation and turned toward the kitchen. Toward Clara.
Ashley stood frozen.
The warmth still lingered.
Her hands trembled.
Her stomach twisted.
Her chest ached—like something had been ripped away.
That wasn't real.
It wasn't real.
But it felt like it was.
Ashley exhaled shakily.
Her hands clenched into fists.
She had to leave.
Now. Without a word, she took the necklace and her coat—
And walked out.
Alone.
Ashley wandered through the library, lost in thought.
She had come here to clear her mind.
To shake off the lingering warmth of Sebastian's love.
To breathe.
But it wasn't working.
No matter how many bookshelves she passed,
his face was still in her head.
She turned the corner, her footsteps soft against the wooden floor.
She sat.
Took one book after another.
Read until night.
But nothing came.
No answer.
Then—she went back with nothing.
When Ashley returned, Clara and Sebastian were already waiting for her by the door.
Clara stepped forward, her gaze steady but questioning.
"Where have you been?"
Ashley laughed nervously.
"I just took a walk."
Sebastian remained where he was, watching her carefully, his expression unreadable.
Clara exhaled softly, her arms crossing—not out of frustration, but quiet disapproval.
She didn't push further.
But the silence between them spoke volumes.
Yet, as always, Ashley found a way to ease the tension.
As she passed Clara, her voice softened:
"I was worried about you, you know?"
That night, just as they were getting ready to sleep,
the room felt both cozy and cold.
The window, barely covered by the curtain, allowed a sliver of moonlight to slip through.
Ashley lay on her bed, and to her left, Clara rested on hers.
Ashley couldn't sleep.
She absentmindedly played with the pendant,
lost in thought, trying to make sense of everything—
but nothing came together.
Every time she thought she was onto something,
her mind shifted to Sebastian.
With a sigh, she placed the necklace on the side table, her gaze still locked on it.
The moonlight struck the gem just right—
as if the gem had a heartbeat.
The blood-red stone swirled,
a smoky wave shifting inside.
She stared, mesmerized.
"Has it always been like this…? Or…"
Before she could finish the thought—
sleep took her.
The Next Day
Everything seemed normal.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Clara sat in front of the mirror, humming softly as she brushed her hair.
Ashley woke up and glanced at the necklace—
It was still resting perfectly in the same spot she had placed it the night before.
"Morning, Ash."
Clara's voice was soft yet warm as she greeted her.
"Remember, the mayor invited us today? You should get ready."
Ashley groaned, rubbing her face.
"Oh yeah… I forgot about that.
I also forgot we came here for a vacation."
Clara let out a small, knowing smile.
"Yes, Ash. Not everything is about work.
Relax—let's enjoy ourselves for once."
The three of them made their way to the mayor's residence,
where they were greeted warmly by his attendants.
A fresh pot of tea had already been set for them.
A man with a poised yet welcoming demeanor stepped forward, offering them a polite smile.
"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Louis—I am the mayor of this town."
His tone was smooth.
His presence, authoritative yet friendly.
"As you may know, this town is one of the most peaceful places you'll ever find in Velmoria."
He gestured toward the room,
where old paintings of the town's history lined the walls.
"Now, tell me—what brings you all to our fine town?"
One by one, they introduced themselves.
Yet Ashley never mentioned she was a journalist.
Then Ashley leaned forward, her expression serious.
"We came all the way from Gildorne—east from here—just to see Emily's grave.
We're really intrigued. Can you tell us more about her?"
The mayor's expression flickered with surprise.
"Oh… Emily, eh?"
Ashley narrowed her eyes, watching him closely.
Leaving no room for dishonesty.
The mayor hesitated before responding.
"Emily was one of Ms. Mary's adopted children.
She lived by herself on Street 173 and… well, she passed away five years ago."
Ashley thought for a moment, then muttered under her breath,
"So she was living here alone… interesting."
She cleared her throat.
"Her last name?"
Suddenly the mayor coughed into his tea.
Before he could answer, his assistant interrupted—
quickly ushering them out
Ashley clenched her fists.
"That was a cover-up! I know that move!"
She had been so close to learning the truth… only to be shut down at the last moment.
"Let's go to Street 173."
Her voice was firm.
Unwavering.
"I need to know more."
At Emily's House – Frozen in Time
Emily's house stood untouched—
as if waiting for someone to return.
The door was locked.
Ashley scanned the area, her sharp eyes catching a small window at the back—slightly ajar.
She turned toward Clara and Sebastian with a mischievous grin.
Sebastian sighed, already sensing trouble.
"Don't tell me—"
Before he could finish,
Ashley was already slipping through the tight opening.
With a soft thud, she landed inside.
Ashley straightened, brushing off dust.
Her gaze swept over the dimly lit space, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Is this… Emily's room?"
The air was thick with dust, heavy with silence.
It had been years since anyone had stepped foot inside.
The curtains hung tightly shut, allowing only faint slivers of light to cut through the gloom.
The wooden floor creaked beneath her weight, each step leaving a trail of footprints in the untouched dust.
And yet—despite the passage of time—everything remained eerily well-kept.
Clothes, neatly folded.
Furniture, untouched.
As if Emily had never left.
But the kitchen told a different story.
A bowl of fruit sat on the table—its once-vibrant colors replaced by blackened rot.
The faintly sour scent curled in the stale air.
Beside it, a jar of dead flowers—petals browned and brittle—lay crumbling onto the wooden surface.
A silent reminder of something once alive.
Now, long forgotten.
Ashley made her way toward the front door when something caught her eye.
A framed picture on the wall.
She stepped closer.
"Hmm… is this Emily?"
The young woman in the photo stared back—beautiful, yet distant.
Then, another frame.
Emily… and Selena.
Ashley frowned, her fingers brushing against the frame.
"Hm… and who might you be?" she murmured, eyes narrowing at the unfamiliar face.
Then—a sudden knock at the door.
"Ash! We're out here!"
Clara's voice called from outside.
Ashley exhaled sharply, shaking off the eerie feeling.
But something lingered.
Something… unsettling.
As she turned toward the door, her foot brushed against something.
She glanced down.
A single sheet of dust-covered paper lay on the floor, its edges curled with age.
She bent down, carefully picking it up.
Her fingers trembled.
"A… letter?"
Her pulse quickened.
Something about it felt important.
Still gripping the letter, she quickly unlocked the door, her mind spinning with possibilities.
Sebastian and Clara stepped inside.
Clara's gaze swept across the room, her breath catching at the sight of the antique furniture,
the carefully placed decorations—every delicate piece of Emily's past life, frozen in time.
"This place is beautiful," she whispered in awe,
her fingers tracing the carved edges of a wooden vanity.
There was something hauntingly elegant about it all.
Sebastian, however, kept his eyes on Ashley.
"What do you have there?"
Ashley stared at the letter, her fingers tightening around the fragile paper.
"I… I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a breath.
"A letter."
She carefully unfolded it, her eyes darting over the faded ink.
Her breath hitched.
Her chest tightened.
Her hands clenched around the paper.
Then— "Oh my god."
Her voice came out barely audible. Shaken.
Sebastian and Clara both turned toward her.
"Ash?" Clara's voice was soft. Uncertain.
But Ashley wasn't listening.
Her eyes gleamed with something electric.
Something thrilling.
She looked up, her voice breathless with realization.
"This is a letter from Gordon. Gordon Everleigh."
A pause…
Then—she inhaled sharply,
like the final puzzle piece had just snapped into place.
"Which means… she's the daughter—Emily is a Ravensdale."
She turned to Sebastian, her face beaming with triumph.
"I got it! Finally!"
Before she could celebrate further—
"Ash… I found something."
Ashley spun around, heart still racing.
Clara stood near a bookshelf, her hands gently cradling a worn-out journal.
Its leather cover cracked with age.
"Emily's diary," Clara whispered.
Ashley's eyes widened.
For a second, she could only stare.
Then, without thinking—she lunged forward, wrapping Clara in a tight embrace.
"Oh, Clara! You're the best!"
But even as excitement filled the air,
Ashley couldn't shake the feeling that this diary—
this forgotten piece of Emily—
was more than just a journal.
It was a warning.
That Night
After their final search, they returned to their lodging.
Sebastian and Clara were already asleep, their steady breathing the only sound in the quiet room.
But Ashley couldn't sleep.
She sat awake in bed, a single candle flickering beside her.
The night was silent. Cold.
Only the dim flame accompanied her, its soft glow casting long shadows against the walls.
She exhaled slowly, steadying herself.
Then—with careful hands—
She opened the diary to the first page.
Then—A voice.
A male voice.
"Ashley… love will come your way very soon."
Ashley's body went rigid.
Her grip on the diary tightened.
Her breath hitched.
"What…?!"
Before she could move—
Before she could even think—
The wind rushed through the room.
The candle snuffed out.
Darkness swallowed her whole.
A faint wisp of smoke curled in the air,
disappearing into nothing.
To be continued…
Next Chapter: Emily is Me