When Lilly stepped out of the library, the sun was low behind the buildings. Long shadows followed across quiet, tranquil streets. She had intended to spend many more hours than this in the archives and her stomach growled loudly in noisy protest. It wasn't just an empty belly nagging at her, but homework begged to be attended to as well. Papers to write, textbooks to read, and a looming examination in her psychology class for which she had barely opened a book.
"Crap," she muttered to herself, tugging on the strap of her bag as she hurried toward her apartment. She couldn't afford to fall behind—not with everything else going on. College was hard enough when you weren't seeing ghosts and investigating mysterious deaths.
A buzzing in her pocket yanked her out of her reverie. She dragged it out and consulted the screen.
Discussion Group - Psych 202 Hey guys, don't forget that tomorrow at 4 we have to meet in the library to review for the exam. Is everybody ready?
Lilly sighed and was anything but ready. She responded with a quick thumbs-up emoji and jammed her phone back into her pocket. She had not said anything to her professors about the ghosts, her classmates, or even her study group; there was simply no way they'd believe her. The last thing she needed was people starting to treat her as if she were nuts.
She was exhausted by the time she finally reached her apartment. Her day had gotten quite away from her, and now the reality of her other responsibilities hit with a vengeance. As much as she wanted to delve deeper into the mystery surrounding Silas Mercer, she did have a paper due in two days, and another bad grade was just not acceptable.
Lilly quickly fixed herself something to eat—ramen, again—and sat at her cluttered desk, her textbooks and notes sprawled out before her. The city noises filtered in through the cracked window, but distant, muffled, and she was too focused to care.
Yet, even as she stared at the words in her psychology textbook, her mind continued to wander to Silas.
What she had read, the suspicion of foul play, the association with the influential Grey family—all merged in her mind, gnawed at her, and drew her mind away from the matter at hand. She just couldn't get past the feeling this wasn't about any old, forgotten tragedy. Now it was personal; now she would have to see it through—for Silas, and maybe for herself.
But first, she thought, I need to pass this class.
She made herself work on her schoolwork for the next few hours, though it always was in the back of her mind to delve further into Silas' past. Her computer screen flickered with half-finished papers and notes, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop replaying the events from the night before.
Focus, Lilly; you have an exam you need to study for.
But her mind was set upon being a traitor. Every time her thoughts happened to stray, they made their inevitable way back to the mystery that was Silas, ominous warnings, unfinished business that seemed to hang over him like some sort of dark cloud. There was something here—something big—and she couldn't let it go.
It was the hours of half-hearted studying that finally filed for mercy, and curiosity took hold. Setting aside her homework, Lilly pulled out the notebook where she had jotted down the names, the dates, and the questions all still churning around in her brain, begging for her attention.
She flipped through the pages, scanning down the multitude of notes she had made regarding Silas's death, the involvement of the Grey family, and rumors that had flown in the town back in 1844. It was a jigsaw puzzle with too many missing pieces, and Lilly knew she wasn't going to get any sleep until at least an attempt was made to put some together.
A wave of dizziness washed over her as her eyes flicked over the notes. The room warped around her, the edges of her vision blurry as the soft hum of her laptop faded away. Lilly blinked then, trying to steady herself, but the feeling clenched tighter in on itself and dragged her under.
One moment she was; the next, she wasn't in the apartment.
She stood amidst a dimly lit parlor where the soft crackle of fire seemed to almost fill the air. The room was old, 19th-century old, with heavy drapes and rich dark furniture. Everything about it all felt so far away like she was watching some forgotten scene out of a movie.
Standing by the fireplace was a man in a dark long coat, his back to her. From his posture, he would appear rigid and tense. There was something all too familiar about him, and this sped Lilly's heart without her even seeing his face.
The man turned slowly—as if sensing her—and Lilly's breath caught in her throat.
It was Silas.
But not the ghostly version of him she had met in the graveyard. This was Silas as he had been in life—solid, sharp, and alive. His dark eyes flicked over her, and for a moment, it was as if he stared right into her mind, though she knew it wasn't possible. This was just a vision—a memory from the past—a missing piece.
Behind him now came another figure, a woman, her face obscured partly by the firelight dancing across her skin. Her voice was low and her words clipped, but Lilly could feel the tension between them—thick and unspoken.
"Do you think you can trust them, Silas?" the woman asked, barely more than a whisper. "Do you think they'll let this go?"
Silas's jaw clenched. "I'm out of options."
She stepped closer again. Her features became more defined now; she was beautiful with dark hair pulled back in a simple style, yet dangerous, and something of that tingled Lilly's skin.
The woman said now—quietly, but there was a warning in her voice. "You always have a choice."
The image shifted before Lilly could quite grasp what she saw—like the fast-forward of an old tape, the parlor melted around her and she found herself standing outside, in air heavy and cold as night. Silas was there again, but this time he wasn't alone. He stood at the rim of a tiny clearing, staring at a group of men. The shadow concealed their features, but Lilly could feel hostility hiding in the shadows of their faces.
"We had a deal," Silas said in a low-slung tone that never wavered. "This wasn't part of it."
The men didn't say anything. It was then that one of them took a step forward, his hand reaching towards something metallic in his coat, moonlight glowed.
Lilly's heart raced as she tried to scream, tried to step back, tried to do something, but she couldn't; she was stuck in the vision playing out in front of her.
And just like that, in an instant, just as it had begun, the vision snapped away.
Lilly sat back in her apartment, gasping for breath, as her heart was pounding against the inside of her chest. Slowly, the world came back into focus as she sat up, clutching the edge of her desk. The soft glowing of her laptop screen in the dark, the sounds of the city, filtered again through the open window.
But Lilly's mind was a thousand miles away from there. What she had just envisioned—it was real, it felt real, and it felt like she was there; living those moments with Silas's memories. What is the name of all things unholy had she just seen?