Chapter 2: Ghosts of Silver Hollow

She must have suffered terribly.

I pictured her face—pale, eyes wide with fear—and my chest ached, a pain that wouldn’t fade, not even in death. The thought of her last moments stuck to me like a stain.

It must have hurt so much. I could almost feel it myself—a sharp, cold ache right through me.

The underworld felt cold, but the pain in my heart was even colder. Like ice in my veins. I would’ve done anything to take her place, to spare her that fear.

The officer of the underworld saw me, but for some reason, he didn’t take me away.

He just looked at me with this strange, sad sympathy. Like he’d seen a thousand souls like mine, stuck between worlds, hearts still breaking and unfinished business left behind.

He told me that after I fell to my death, Caroline’s hair turned white in an instant, and she lost her mind.

That image stuck with me: Caroline, always so proud and strong, suddenly brought to her knees, her world coming apart in a single instant. You’d think it would give me some peace, but it didn’t.

Suddenly, it all came rushing back.

It was like an old movie flickering to life—grainy, jumpy, but I could see every moment. I watched my own body, blood pouring from every opening after the fall. Caroline stumbled down from the tower, her face a mask of horror.

She didn’t care about appearances. She just dropped to the ground, clutching me and sobbing, wiping at the blood on my face again and again.

Her cries ripped through the square, raw and desperate. She rocked back and forth, holding me so tight it was like she thought she could drag me back from the edge. People crowded around, but nobody dared get close.

But the blood on my face seemed endless.

It pooled beneath us, staining her gold robes crimson. She kept wiping, frantic, like she could undo what had happened, like she could bring me back with her bare hands.

Caroline let out a wail so heart-wrenching it made the crowd shudder. Right then, her hair turned completely white.

It happened in a flash—her chestnut hair draining of color, silver threads streaking through every lock. The crowd gasped, but Caroline didn’t care. She just kept holding me, lost in her own world.

Not a trace of brown hair remained. Nothing but white, shining in the sun.

It was like every bit of color, every scrap of hope, just bled out of her right then and there.

Seeing this, I felt a twisted kind of relief. Like finally, she was hurting too.

I know it’s cruel, but I wanted her to hurt. I wanted her to feel the emptiness that swallowed me when I heard about Lila. Maybe then she’d get it.

I even wished my body would fall apart more—best if it was completely unrecognizable. Let her see the mess she made.

Let her suffer, I thought.

Let her grieve so deeply she never recovers. Maybe then, justice would finally be served.

Caroline, oh Caroline, you made me lose Lila. Now it’s your turn to lose everything you want.

I whispered it into the emptiness, hoping the universe was listening. A curse, a promise, a goodbye.

With a flick of my hand, the vision vanished.

It faded away, like fog burning off in the morning sun, leaving only the ache behind.

I asked the underworld officer if he’d seen my Lila. He looked troubled, shifting from foot to foot.

He shuffled his feet, eyes down. “Some souls take longer to arrive,” he muttered. “Sometimes they get lost.”

My hatred for Caroline just kept growing, burning like wildfire inside me.

It was a raw, ugly feeling, all-consuming. If I could have haunted her, I would have.

But I also hated myself. I kept thinking, If I’d only protected Lila better, if I hadn’t trusted Caroline—none of this would’ve happened.

The guilt felt like a weight around my neck. I replayed every moment, every choice, wishing I could go back and do it all over again.

Lila, Caroline, and I grew up together. We were always together, the three of us, tangled up in the strange history of Silver Hollow.

We were the odd trio in Silver Hollow—always together, even when the world tried to keep us apart. Our families were tied by duty and history. Sometimes people stared, but we didn’t care.

But Lila and I were childhood sweethearts.

She was the first person I ever told a secret to, the first hand I ever held. Our parents used to joke that we’d end up together, but for us, it was never a joke. It was fate.