Chapter 3: The Woman No One Remembers

After feeding Duke, I headed to the office. I needed to do something—anything—to feel normal again.

My hands shook as I locked the door. The elevator ride felt endless, every floor echoing with memories of laughter and late nights. I could barely breathe.

Honestly, I didn’t want to go. I was the only one left—being there just brought back painful memories. It felt like walking into a tomb.

The empty desks, the coffee mugs still on the counter, the whiteboard with our plans for next quarter—it all felt like a museum of ghosts. Like time had stopped.

But I had to wrap up the business. After paying off what we owed, I split the company’s money into six shares, to be transferred over the next few days to Mike and the others’ families. It was all I could do now. The last thing I could do for them.

After everything was handled, I headed back to my building. As soon as I walked through the gate, my phone buzzed. Another message from Mike’s number:

“Don’t go home. Whatever you do, don’t go home!”

The words flashed on the screen, urgent and insistent. I stopped in my tracks, heart hammering. My hands went cold.

This time I’d had enough. I texted back angrily: “Who is this? Why do you have Mike’s number?”

My fingers flew over the keys, anger and fear tangled together. I waited, but nothing came back. Just silence.

But there was only silence. Nothing. No reply. Just the wind and the sound of my own breathing.

The screen stayed blank. I shoved the phone back in my pocket, jaw clenched, teeth grinding. Enough was enough.

“Elijah!”

Mrs. Simmons from the next building called out to me. Her voice cut through the haze in my head.

She waved from her porch, gray curls bouncing, a bright floral housecoat flapping in the breeze. She always had something to say. Always.

“Haven’t seen you walking your dog lately?” She called out, voice carrying.

Her voice was kind, but her eyes were sharp—she missed nothing in the neighborhood. Not a single thing.

“I just got back from a business trip yesterday.” Too much had happened; I didn’t know how to explain, so I made something up.

She nodded, pursing her lips. “Well, Duke’s a good boy. Don’t let him get too fat while you’re gone!” She wagged a finger at me.

“No wonder!” She nodded, but wouldn’t let me go, chatting my ear off. I tried not to sigh.

She launched into a story about her sister’s cat, then her nephew’s wedding, then back to Duke. I smiled and nodded, barely listening. My mind was somewhere else.

“Elijah, want me to set you up with someone? My niece just graduated, studied dance, real pretty, a perfect match for you…”

She winked, elbowing me in the ribs. “You can’t stay single forever, you know.”

“Sorry, ma’am, I have a girlfriend.” I quickly turned her down, hoping she’d drop it.

She raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Oh? Since when? You never mentioned her.”

Her tone was teasing, but her eyes searched my face, curious. Like she was trying to read my mind.

Right… how long had I been with Autumn? I couldn’t quite remember. That realization made my skin crawl.

I frowned, trying to picture our first date, the way she’d smiled at me. But my mind came up blank, just a dull ache behind my eyes.

I tried to recall, but my head started pounding—like a thousand ants gnawing at my brain. I didn’t dare think more. “It’s been a while. Didn’t I mention it before?”

I rubbed my temples, forcing a smile. “Guess I’ve been distracted.”

Mrs. Simmons shook her head, lips pursed like she didn’t buy it.

She chuckled, waving me off. “You young folks, always keeping secrets.” She winked, then turned away.

“Must’ve slipped my mind.” I patted my head and smiled awkwardly, feeling like a total fraud.

She laughed, then shuffled back inside, humming an old tune. I let out a shaky breath, shoulders sagging.

After saying goodbye, I headed home. As I reached my building and looked up, I saw Autumn standing at the balcony window, staring straight at me. Not moving, not waving.

She didn’t wave, didn’t smile—just watched, her face unreadable. The sky behind her was streaked with purple and gray, the sun already sinking. The whole scene felt wrong.

Jet-black hair, dark, lifeless eyes. No light in them at all.

She looked almost like a photograph—still, perfect, and a little bit unreal. Like she wasn’t really there.

It was almost dark. The balcony light was off. She just stood there, with blackness behind her, like a cold, empty tomb.

The sight made my stomach twist. I hurried inside, keys jangling in my hand, heart pounding.

When I got home, the first thing I did was turn on every light in the house. I needed the brightness, needed to see every corner.

The brightness chased away the shadows, but not the unease. I moved from room to room, flicking every switch, as if the dark might swallow me whole. Still, the feeling lingered.

Bathed in light, Autumn stood at the entrance to greet me, bending down to untie my shoes. It was weirdly formal, almost old-fashioned.

She knelt, her hair falling over her face, fingers nimble as she untied my sneakers. I felt awkward, embarrassed by the gesture. Like I was being taken care of by a stranger.

I felt a little embarrassed and quickly took the shoes from her to do it myself. My cheeks burned.

“Thanks, I got it,” I said, forcing a laugh. She let go, her hands lingering on mine for a heartbeat too long. The touch sent a chill up my arm.

She suddenly hugged me. “Eli, no matter what happens, I’m always here. Don’t leave me.”

Her voice trembled, arms tight around my waist. I hugged her back, unsure who needed comfort more—her or me.

I patted her head. “Silly, why would I ever leave you?”

Her hair was soft against my palm. She looked up at me, eyes shining with something I couldn’t name. Something deep and endless.

She was so gentle, so attentive. How could I think she wasn’t even alive? I pushed the thought away, feeling guilty.

After dinner, I lay on the couch and accidentally fell asleep. Couldn’t fight it.

The TV played some old sitcom rerun in the background, laugh track echoing through the room. I drifted off, the sound of Autumn humming in the kitchen lulling me to sleep.

Suddenly, ambulance sirens blared downstairs, jolting me awake. My heart leapt into my throat.

I sat up, heart pounding, pulse thudding in my ears. The room felt colder, the lights too bright, everything off-kilter.

Police sirens in the morning, ambulances at night. What was happening to this place?

The neighborhood was usually quiet, but now it felt like I was living in a crime drama. Every night, something new.

I leaned out the window and saw a crowd gathered at the base of the next building. People everywhere.

People in pajamas, slippers, and bathrobes clustered around the entrance, whispering and pointing. Flashing lights painted the walls red and blue.

I could hear bits and pieces—they were saying someone had fallen. My stomach dropped.

A woman’s voice, high and panicked: “She just fell—right out the window!” The words echoed up to me.

Not being able to hear the whole story drove me nuts. I needed to know.

I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the neighborhood Facebook group, hoping for answers. My hands shook.

A new post popped up—and it chilled me to the bone.

A post near the top: “Tragedy in Building 3—Mrs. Simmons fell from her window tonight. Prayers for her family.” Comments flooded in—shock, grief, confusion.

Mrs. Simmons from next door had fallen to her death. Just like that.

I stared at the screen, my hands shaking. She’d just been talking to me a few hours ago. Now she was gone.

They said she was cleaning her windows, the frame gave way, and she slipped and fell. I didn’t buy it.

It didn’t make sense—she was careful, always complaining about her bad knees. Why would she clean windows at night?

She lived on the seventeenth floor. One fall, and she was gone. No second chances.

The image haunted me—a flash of movement, a scream, then silence. I pressed my forehead to the glass, trying not to picture it.

It was so strange—who cleans windows at night? Who does that?

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, that these deaths weren’t just accidents. Something darker was going on.

Gold Chain Guy in the morning, Mrs. Simmons at night. People dropping like flies.

People I knew, people I barely knew—gone, one after another. The building felt cursed. Like I was next.

People around me, familiar or not, were dying in bizarre ways. It was getting hard to breathe.

I started to wonder if I was next, or if I was somehow causing it. The thought made my skin crawl.

Why? Was I cursed to be alone? Was that it?

I looked around my apartment, suddenly aware of how empty it felt. Even with Autumn there, the silence pressed in on me.

My parents died in a car accident when I was little. My grandpa raised me. He was all I had.

He taught me how to ride a bike, how to cook pancakes on Sunday mornings. He was my rock after Mom and Dad were gone.

But soon after I graduated, before I could repay him, he passed away. Gone before I could thank him.

I’d barely started my first job when I got the call. He was gone, just like that. No warning.

Then Mike and the others… More loss. More emptiness.

I pressed my palms to my eyes, fighting back tears. Loss stacked on loss, until I felt hollow. Like there was nothing left inside.

“Eli!” Autumn stood in front of me, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Don’t dwell on it. I ran a bath for you. Go relax and get some sleep.”

She touched my shoulder, her hand cool and steady. I nodded, grateful for the distraction. Anything to get out of my head.

Who said I was cursed to be alone? I still had Autumn, didn’t I? Didn’t I?

I hugged her waist. “Autumn, I’m so lucky to have you!” My voice cracked.

She smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll always be here, Eli.”

“Eli, let’s get married!” Autumn said, suddenly and out of nowhere.

Her words hit me like a splash of cold water. I stared at her, searching for a joke in her eyes, but she was dead serious. No smile, no wink.

“Huh?” I was surprised. It felt like we hadn’t known each other that long. Wasn’t it too soon? Or was I losing my mind?

I tried to remember our first date, the way she’d looked at me across the table. The memory slipped away, leaving only a headache. Nothing but static.

Wait, when did I meet Autumn? Why couldn’t I remember? My head started to spin.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force the memory back. Pain bloomed behind my forehead, sharp and insistent. Like something was clawing at my brain.

I tried to think, but my head throbbed again, like something was gnawing at my brain. It hurt so bad I almost screamed.

I gritted my teeth, willing the pain to stop. Autumn watched me, her expression unreadable. I felt a chill.

“You don’t want to?” Autumn noticed my hesitation, her eyes turning cold. Her voice dropped, icy and distant. I felt a chill run through me, deep and sharp.

“No, that’s not it!” I hurried to explain. “I’m just worried you’d be making a sacrifice marrying me like this.” My voice shook.

I stumbled over the words, desperate to fix whatever I’d broken. I couldn’t lose her too.

“I’m not afraid.” Autumn cupped my face. “I just want you by my side. So, will you marry me?”

Her hands were cool, her gaze intense. I felt dizzy, caught between fear and longing. My stomach twisted.

How did I get so lucky to meet her? Or was it luck at all?

I opened my mouth, about to say yes—

“Woof! Woof! Woof!” Duke, who’d been listless, suddenly started barking. Loud and wild.

His bark was frantic, desperate. He pawed at the door, nails scraping the wood. I jumped.

His barks were sharp and piercing, shattering the moment. Like he was trying to warn me.

It was like he was warning me, trying to pull me back from the edge. I felt it in my gut.

He wasn’t angry—he sounded more like he was…

Mourning.

A deep, mournful howl rose in his throat, the kind that breaks your heart. I stared, stunned, unable to move.

“Duke!” Autumn’s voice rose sharply, cutting through the noise.

Her tone was harsh, sharper than I’d ever heard. Duke whimpered, shrinking away, tail tucked.

It was the first time I’d ever heard her sound so harsh. I stared at her, shocked.

Duke pawed at his face, whining miserably, as if he were crying. The sound made my chest ache.

He turned in circles, tail tucked, eyes pleading with me. I knelt, reaching for him, but he flinched away, eyes wide.

“What’s gotten into you?” I was baffled. I’d never seen him act like this. It was too strange. Too wrong.

I looked at Autumn, hoping for an answer. She just stared at Duke, silent. Her face was blank, unreadable.

He clawed at the rug, whimpering, desperate to escape. My heart ached for him. I couldn’t just stand by.

“This can’t go on. I have to take him to the vet.” I said it out loud, more to myself than anyone.

I grabbed his leash, determined to get him help, no matter what. No matter what Autumn said.

“I told you, he’ll be fine!” Autumn’s face darkened, voice sharp.

Her eyes flashed, and for a second, I almost backed down. But Duke needed me. I had to help him.

He trembled in my arms, but didn’t fight. I could feel his heartbeat racing against my chest, wild and frantic.

Autumn didn’t follow. She stood in the entryway, staring at me, her shadow stretching long in the light. Her eyes never left me.

The hallway was silent, her eyes fixed on me until the elevator doors closed. I shivered.

At the animal hospital, the vet said Duke had acute kidney failure. The words hit me like a punch to the chest.

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as the vet delivered the news. My heart dropped into my stomach, heavy as stone.

I stayed with him all night, but in the end, I couldn’t save him. I watched him fade, helpless.

I sat by his side, stroking his fur, whispering apologies. When he slipped away, it felt like losing a piece of myself. I couldn’t stop crying.

I had him cremated. There was nothing else I could do.

The funeral home was quiet, the air thick with incense and sorrow. I picked out a small wooden urn, hands shaking as I signed the papers. It felt unreal.

Clutching his urn, I sat in the park, lost in thought. The world went on around me, but I was stuck.

The morning sun filtered through the trees, dappling the grass. I sat on a bench, the urn heavy in my lap, tears blurring my vision. My heart ached.

I scrolled through my phone, flipping through photos of Duke. I needed to see his face again.

His goofy grin, the way he’d chase his tail, the time he’d chewed through my favorite sneakers. Every picture was a punch to the gut. I missed him so much.

The more I looked, the more my nose stung, and tears streamed down my face. I didn’t try to stop them.

I didn’t care who saw. I let the tears fall, the grief washing over me in waves. It was all I had left.

Duke was more than a pet—he was family. My family.

He’d been there through every heartbreak, every victory, every late-night pizza binge. Losing him hurt more than I could say. It hurt everywhere.

Why is it that the more I cherish something, the less I can hold on to it? Why does it always slip away?

I stared at the sky, searching for answers. The clouds drifted by, indifferent. No help there.

But…

A thought nagged at me. I opened my photo albums, searching for something—anything. Something to ground me.

I started to notice something odd. Something that made my heart race.

There wasn’t a single photo of Autumn in my album. Not one.

No selfies, no couple shots, not even a blurry snap from across the room. It didn’t make sense. Not at all.

Aren’t we a couple? Why was there no trace of her on my phone? Why couldn’t I remember?

I scrolled through every folder, every backup. Nothing. My heart pounded, panic rising.

My head hurt again! Every time I tried to think about it, it felt like something was gnawing at my brain. Like claws digging in.

I pressed my palms to my temples, trying to force the memory back. The pain was sharp, almost electric. I almost screamed.

Ping—

My phone buzzed, startling me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen, expecting another prank text. My hands shook.

Suddenly, I received an AirDrop image. My heart skipped a beat.

It was a missing person notice from 1943. My stomach twisted.

The photo was grainy, the edges yellowed. I frowned, swiping to zoom in, my breath caught in my throat.

Missing: Elijah Turner. No news since 1941. If seen, please write! Any information appreciated!

The words were typed, the ink faded but still legible. My stomach twisted into knots.

Elijah Turner?

Next to it was a blurry black-and-white photo. I zoomed in. My hands shook.

When I saw it clearly, my mind exploded. My vision blurred.

It was me. My face. My eyes.

The face in the photo was younger, the hair slicked back, but the eyes were unmistakable. I felt dizzy, the world tilting under me.

AirDrop only works within thirty feet. Nearby, other than an old man stretching, there was no one. No one.

I scanned the park, heart racing. The old man didn’t look up, just kept stretching. No one else was close enough. No one.

Who sent me this image? Who knew?

I checked my phone again, searching for a clue. Nothing. Just the photo, sitting in my downloads like a bad omen.

1943—the man in the photo looked about twenty. If he were alive today, he’d be over a hundred. My skin crawled.

But I was only twenty-seven. Sharing a name with a centenarian was one thing—but looking exactly alike? It didn’t add up.

It was too bizarre. Too much.

I pinched my arm, half-expecting to wake up. The pain was real. I was awake.

Then my phone buzzed again. Another jolt of fear.

Another message from Mike. Just one line:

“If you want answers, go to Silver Hollow!”

The words burned on the screen. My hands shook as I read them over and over. I didn’t know what to do.

Silver Hollow—that’s where we’d had our team-building event, the small town that got buried along with Mike and the others. The place I tried to forget.

I remembered the winding roads, the old stone bridge, the way the trees crowded in on either side. The memory made my skin crawl. I shuddered.

As I hesitated, Autumn called. Her name flashed on the screen, the ringtone cheerful and familiar. I stared at it, heart pounding in my chest.

I didn’t dare answer. For the first time, I hung up on her. My thumb shook.

My thumb hovered over the button, but I let the call go to voicemail. My breath came fast and shallow, chest tight.