Chapter 17: The House by the Lake
The sun had begun to dip below the horizon by the time they reached the lake house. The once-beautiful property now looked abandoned, its windows dark, its paint peeling under years of neglect.
The bride hesitated at the edge of the path. “We shouldn’t be here,” she muttered.
The groom didn’t stop. “We should have come here a long time ago.”
The little girl clutched the broken chain of the locket as they approached the front door. “She’s inside,” she whispered.
The groom tried the handle.
Unlocked.
The door creaked open, revealing a house frozen in time.
Dust coated everything, yet strangely, some areas looked recently disturbed. A chair slightly pulled out. A glass on the table. Footprints faintly visible across the wooden floor.
The bride’s breathing grew uneven. “This isn’t real… this can’t be real…”
Then—
A soft sound.
Footsteps.
From upstairs.
Everyone froze.
The groom looked up slowly. “Stay here,” he said.
But the little girl shook her head. “No. She wants all of us to see.”
Before anyone could stop her, she began walking toward the stairs.
Reluctantly, the others followed.
Each step creaked beneath their weight as tension tightened like a wire ready to snap.
At the end of the hallway, one door stood slightly ajar.
A faint light flickered inside.
The groom pushed it open.
And there—
Sitting calmly by the window—
May you like
Was a woman.
Alive.
