Chapter 7 - The Return Address
Elena stared down at the solitary envelope resting on the welcome mat, the porch light casting a sickly yellow hue over the heavy parchment paper. Rain drummed a frantic rhythm against the roof overhead, but the porch itself remained strangely bone-dry, as if protected by an invisible dome. She knelt slowly, her fingers brushing the damp surface of the paper, feeling a strange static charge that made the hairs on her arms stand on end. There was no stamp, no postmark, and no sender's name—only her own married name written in a cramped, trembling cursive that looked horrifyingly like her own handwriting. "Elena? Who's down there? What's at the door?" Mark’s voice echoed down the stairwell, strained and breathless, accompanied by the heavy thud of his footsteps approaching the landing. Elena didn't answer; she tore open the flap, her eyes darting across the single line of ink scrawled inside the page. ‘You forgot the second child in the wall, Elena.’ Her breath caught in her throat, the paper fluttering from her numb fingers to land softly on the hardwood floor. From the top of the stairs, Maya let out a blood-curdling shriek that shattered the quiet night. Elena spun around, sprinting back up the steps two at a time, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. When she reached the hallway, Mark was gone, the white door stood wide open to a blazing, unnatural sunlight, and Maya was standing on the threshold, holding a second, identical white plate filled with ash.
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