You stepped through the door, the air inside the house thick with memories and something else—something unseen, but deeply familiar. It had been years since you last stood here, since you last heard your mother’s voice echo through these walls. Years spent away, listening to voices no one else could hear, guiding restless spirits toward peace.

You had inherited more than just your mother’s eyes or her way of speaking. You had inherited her gift.

A guide. That’s what you had become. Not a medium, not just a girl who could hear whispers in the dark, but someone who helped the dead move on, who fulfilled last wishes and untangled the knots of unfinished lives. You didn’t need tools or séances, no boards or candles. The ghosts found you on their own.

But coming back here… the weight of it settled deep in your bones.

You could already feel them. The ones who never left. The ones who lingered in the corners of this house, in the shadows of your past. They knew you had returned. Some waited in silence. Others stirred, restless, uncertain.