The air outside Martha's house was sharp and cold, biting at Eleanor's skin as she stumbled down the creaking porch steps, her legs weak, vision blurred. The world felt distorted, bending and shifting at the edges, shadows curling and twisting as she moved. Her chest tightened, breath shallow, heart pounding in her ears. The weight of Martha's words hung heavy, sinking into her bones, echoing in her mind.
"You were meant to be the sacrifice… The Echo waits for you… It has always waited."
Eleanor's knees buckled, the earth cold and unyielding beneath her hands as she fell. She gasped, nausea rising, bile burning her throat. Her fingers dug into the frozen soil, dirt crumbling beneath her nails, the chill sinking into her skin. She wanted to scream, to claw the words out of her mind, to tear the truth from her heart.
She was meant to die. Her mother had known, had known and kept it from her, weaving a web of lies to protect her. Eleanor's breath shuddered, mist curling before her lips, vanishing into the cold air. Her mother had saved her, yes—but at what cost? The Echo still waited, still hungered, and the curse remained unbroken, a shadow that clung to her, that bound her to this place.
A voice echoed in her mind, faint and distant, the same whisper that had haunted her since she'd returned to the village. "You should not be here… you were never meant to return…"
She squeezed her eyes shut, the whispers curling around her, seeping into her skin, cold and hollow. Faces twisted before her eyes, hollow eyes watching, mouths stretching wide, shadows clinging to their sunken cheeks. She saw their hands reaching for her, skeletal fingers curling, grasping, pulling her down, down into the earth, down into darkness…
A hand gripped her shoulder, cold and firm, yanking her back. Eleanor gasped, eyes flying open, the shadows dissolving, the whispers fading. Thomas stood over her, his face pale, eyes wide with worry.
"Eleanor! What… what are you doing here? Are you hurt?" His voice was frantic, rough with panic, his fingers digging into her shoulder, grounding her.
Eleanor stared at him, chest heaving, heart racing. She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, the truth tangled in her throat, burning her from the inside out. Thomas's face blurred, his outline twisting, bending, the world spinning around her.
"Come on," Thomas muttered, his arm slipping around her waist, lifting her to her feet. Her legs wobbled, knees weak, but he held her firm, guiding her down the road, his body warm and solid against her side. "We need to get you home. You're freezing."
Eleanor didn't protest, didn't speak, her limbs moving on instinct, her mind distant, trapped in the echo of Martha's voice. She was meant to be the sacrifice. She was meant to die. Her mother had made a deal with The Echo, but the curse remained. The Echo still waited for her.
The world passed by in a blur, dark shapes shifting, shadows curling at the edge of her vision. Thomas's voice was a distant hum, the words lost to the roaring in her ears, her mind spinning, sinking, falling.
They reached her house, the door creaking as Thomas guided her inside, his hands firm but gentle. The warmth of the room hit her like a wave, suffocating and heavy, the air thick with dust and the lingering scent of her mother's perfume.
Thomas led her to the couch, easing her down, his hands brushing the hair from her face, his eyes dark with worry. "Eleanor… talk to me. What happened?"
Her eyes flicked to his, the concern in his gaze piercing through the fog in her mind, grounding her. She swallowed, throat dry, her lips trembling. "I… I went to see Martha."
His face tightened, a shadow crossing his eyes. "Why would you do that? I told you to stay away from her. She's dangerous, Eleanor. She knows too much… and she's too willing to share it."
"She told me the truth," Eleanor whispered, her voice hollow, cracking. "She told me… about the curse. About The Echo. About… about me."
Thomas's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. He looked away, shoulders tense, eyes fixed on the floor. "You shouldn't have listened to her. She's been lost to the curse for years, Eleanor. It's twisted her mind."
Eleanor shook her head, the room spinning, her heart sinking. "No… no, she wasn't lying. She told me… she told me that I was supposed to be the sacrifice. That my mother made a deal to save me, but the curse wasn't broken. It was only delayed."
Thomas went still, his body rigid, the color draining from his face. Silence stretched between them, heavy and cold, the truth settling in the space between them.
"You knew," Eleanor whispered, her voice trembling, eyes wide. "You knew the whole time, didn't you?"
Thomas's shoulders sagged, his face crumbling, eyes hollow with guilt. "I… I tried to protect you. I tried to keep you away from this… from the truth. I didn't want you to suffer the way your mother did."
Eleanor's vision blurred, anger bubbling beneath her skin, hot and sharp. "You lied to me. You made me think I was safe… that I was normal. But all this time, I was cursed. All this time, The Echo was waiting for me."
"I was trying to keep you alive!" Thomas's voice cracked, his eyes bright with tears. "Your mother gave everything to save you. I didn't want her sacrifice to be for nothing. I couldn't… I couldn't lose you too."
The room fell silent, the shadows pressing in, cold and suffocating. Eleanor's breath shook, her chest tight, pain twisting inside her. "You should have told me," she whispered, voice breaking. "You should have given me the choice."
Thomas sank to his knees before her, head bowed, shoulders trembling. "I'm so sorry, Eleanor. I was selfish. I couldn't bear to let you go. But I should have told you. I should have been honest. Please… forgive me."
Eleanor looked at him, tears blurring her vision, her heart breaking. She wanted to hate him, wanted to scream, but all she felt was an aching emptiness, a hollow void that threatened to swallow her whole.
The whispers began again, curling through the air, seeping into her skin. "You were meant to be the sacrifice… you must set us free… The Echo waits…"
Eleanor's hands curled into fists, the shadows closing in, cold and hungry. She looked down at Thomas, his face crumpled in anguish, and knew what she had to do.
She had to break the curse. She had to face The Echo.
And she had to do it alone.