Evelyn Carter had always been drawn to forgotten things—old books with yellowed pages, faded photographs, letters sealed in time. So when she found herself in her grandmother's attic, surrounded by dusty trunks and the scent of aged wood, she felt an odd sense of belonging.

She ran her fingers over a worn leather-bound journal, flipping through its delicate pages. Just as she was about to place it back into the trunk, something glimmered beneath the folds of an old silk scarf. Curious, she reached for it and pulled out a small, intricately designed locket. Its golden surface was tarnished with time, yet the craftsmanship was undeniable.

Evelyn clicked it open. Inside, there was a faded photograph of a man—his sharp features softened by time, his eyes holding a silent story. Beneath the photograph, an engraving read: Forever yours, Theo.

A strange warmth seeped into her fingertips as she traced the name. The room seemed to shift, the air thickening. The attic lights flickered, and before Evelyn could react, an unseen force pulled her downward, as if the very fabric of reality had unraveled.

Darkness enveloped her.

Then, as suddenly as it began, the sensation stopped. She gasped, feeling solid ground beneath her feet. Blinking rapidly, she took in her surroundings. The dusty attic was gone, replaced by the golden glow of street lamps. The air smelled of fresh rain, mingled with the faint scent of coal smoke.

She wasn't in her grandmother's attic anymore.

She was standing on a cobblestone street, in the heart of a city that should have only existed in history books.