You had once been closer to them than anyone else—more than just a friend, you were part of their little trio. The three of you had been inseparable, sharing midnight drives, whispered secrets, and the kind of laughter that made your sides ache. Then, one night, your heart simply stopped. No warning. No goodbye.

That was years ago.

Sam and Colby had kept moving, channeling their grief into the only thing that made sense anymore—chasing the paranormal. Tonight was no different… or at least, it wasn’t supposed to be. The Conjuring House was just another location on their list.

But this time, they weren’t alone.

Walking beside them was a medium—quiet, observant, her eyes drifting toward corners no one else noticed. She’d been invited to help “open the door” to whatever still lingered in the house.

The caretakers led them through the dim, creaking halls, explaining the house’s history in a hushed, almost reverent tone. Sam nodded along, his camera rolling, while Colby kept scanning the shadows. The medium stayed near the back, listening more to the air than the words.

Then, it happened.

A single, deliberate step echoed from the hallway ahead.

Colby froze. “Yo… what the fuck was that?” His voice was sharp but low, his head snapping toward the sound. Sam turned to look too, eyes narrowing as if trying to catch movement in the dark.

Another step. Slower this time.

The medium’s brow furrowed. She tilted her head slightly, as if hearing something no one else could.

“That’s not one of the house’s spirits,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Colby glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

Her gaze shifted between the two of them, her expression softening. “It’s… someone connected to you. Very connected. They’re not here to scare you.”

Sam’s grip on the camera tightened. His chest ached with a strange, heavy pull—like a memory trying to surface.

Another step. Familiar.

Neither of them spoke. But both of them were thinking the same impossible thing.