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EVE

I didn’t know where I was going—only that I had to get away.

A door appeared off the side of the stage, slightly ajar. I shoved it open without thinking. The room was small and dim, cluttered with costume racks and mismatched furniture. I slammed the door behind me, the latch clicking shut with a finality that felt too loud.

My back hit the wood as my legs gave out. I slid to the floor, trembling.

She wasn’t dead .

My heart pounded, every beat crashing through my skull. I couldn’t catch a full breath. Each inhale was shallow, jagged. My fingers curled into my sweater, desperate for something to hold on to. Nausea twisted through me. My skin prickled with sweat. The room spun.

In for four. Hold for four. Out for four. Mom would’ve called it a panic attack. “ Breathe for me, Evie,” she used to say. The memory made it worse.

Tears burned, and I squeezed my eyes shut, rocking slightly and clinging to the rhythm. Slowly, the shaking eased. My chest loosened just enough for a breath. Then another.

My head lolled back against the door. Cool wood. Solid. Real. I felt wrung out, but I was breathing again.

A knock made me jump.

“I… I brought you some water,” a voice said softly from the other side.

I stared at the door. My first instinct was to stay silent. But after a second, I shifted away from it, inching into the cluttered room.

The door creaked open, and a girl stepped inside, holding a plastic bottle in both hands.

I squinted at her, recognizing her from somewhere.

Petite. Warm brown eyes. A few strands of dark hair fell loose from her ponytail.

She looked young—probably still in high school.

Had she been backstage this whole time? Or was she just waiting?

She crouched and set the bottle in front of me. “Here,” she said gently.

“Thanks,” I muttered, twisting off the cap. The water felt strange on my dry tongue.

She didn’t leave. Just sat there, watching me with calm intensity.

“I’m sorry about what happened on stage,” she said after a moment. “Serenia’s… bereft.”

I let out a bitter laugh, sharp and involuntary.

She didn’t flinch. “I used to be a skeptic,” she said. “But the things Serenia’s seen…”

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She stood, brushing off her knees. “You don’t have to believe it. That doesn’t mean it’s not worth hearing. You might learn something. Something that leads you to the truth,” she nodded toward the hallway. “Her dressing room’s just down there, if you want to talk to her.”

Then she slipped out, the door clicking shut behind her.

I sat for a while, cradling the water bottle. My breaths had steadied, but each one still felt like it carried the weight of a thousand questions. I didn’t want to go.

But wasn’t this why I came?

I gritted my teeth and hauled myself up. My body felt hollowed out, like I’d been through a fight I hadn’t known I was in. I forced myself into the hallway.

The door to Serenia’s dressing room was open. Candlelight spilled out, flickering shadows stretching along the floor. I stepped inside.

Candles of every shape and size crowded the space, wax spilling in chaotic rivers. Sheer fabric, dyed in dusty pinks and golds, drifted from the ceiling like the inside of a genie’s bottle. In the corner stood an ornate mirror, tarnished and looming as shadows swirled across its surface.

Serenia sat at the center, spine impossibly straight, perched on an oversized cushion. Her white hair flowed loose over her shoulders.

“Eve,” she said, a faint smile on her painted lips. “Thank you for coming.”

I paused in the doorway, gripping the frame. The room felt too warm. Heavy.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” I said, voice tight.

“I want to apologize,” she said, folding her hands. “Frightening you wasn’t my intention.”

“Then what was?”

She tilted her head slightly. “Please, sit. It’s easier to talk that way.”

I sighed, muttered a curse under my breath, and sank onto the cushion in front of her. My shoulders stayed tight, tension curled beneath my skin.

“Tell me, Eve,” Serenia said, her gaze unwavering, “what do you know of the world beyond the Divide?”

“Nothing,” I said, clipped but honest.

She smiled faintly, without warmth. “I thought as much.” Her eyes studied me, something shifting beneath the surface. “My gifts are… different. I don’t see ghosts or speak to lost souls. My magic is tied to the veil itself.”

“The veil,” I echoed, the word heavy on my tongue. “What does that mean?”

Serenia just smiled, avoiding my question. “You came here with questions—specific ones that no one else will answer.”

Her words sat heavy in my chest. My thoughts churned, but one finally rose to the surface.

“Are demons real?”

Her silver eyes gleamed. “Very much so.”

I gripped my knees. “Is that what attacked me last night? Was any of it real?”

She nodded. “Your memories are real.”

“But why me?” I asked. “Why would something like that come after me?”

“You’ve always been tethered to the other side,” she said. “Even before you were born.”

I stared. “What does that mean?”

Her expression softened, almost pitying. “Eve, you cannot begin to comprehend the future that awaits you.”

I stared at her, waiting. But she didn’t elaborate. She stood, the folds of her robe whispering across the floor.

“Wait!” I scrambled to my feet. “You barely answered anything!”

Serenia turned, her silver gaze steady. “The answers you seek will be found in your childhood home,” she said softly. “You are at a crossroads. The veil spoke clearly when I saw you. It is whispering now—of fire waking within you.”

“That doesn’t explain anything!” I snapped. Her riddles only made it worse.

“The answers will come,” she said, gesturing toward the door. “But you must find them yourself.”

Before I could argue, she opened the door. The girl from before waited just outside, hands clasped.

“Your friends are waiting,” she said gently. “I can take you to them.”

I glanced back one last time, hoping Serenia might say more—something solid, something real.

But she only smiled, then turned away.

I swallowed my frustration and followed the girl down the hall. My thoughts blurred into static, like I was missing something obvious—like everyone else could see the picture, and I was still searching for the frame.

“Eve!” Darcy called as I stepped into the foyer. She rushed over and wrapped me in a tight hug. “Are you okay? That girl said you were just taking a moment, but… oh, Eve, you look upset!”

Before I could respond, Lila sauntered up, laughter bubbling from her. “That was amazing,” she said, grinning. “You stormed off and rattled the great Serenia so badly she ended the show early! Honestly, I’m kind of impressed.”

“Lila, not now,” Darcy scolded, her eyes full of worry. “Eve’s upset.”

I didn’t answer them, letting them steer me toward the exit. The heaviness in my chest left no room for words.

“Let’s get food,” Lila offered once we stepped outside. “My treat, fearless seer-slayer.”

“Actually, I don’t feel well,” I cut in. My voice sounded far off. “I’m just going to head home.”

Lila frowned. “Come on. Don’t let that witch ruin your night.”

Darcy laid a hand on my arm. “Are you sure? I can drive you home.”

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

Darcy hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll call tomorrow, alright?”

I nodded, forced a smile. “Thanks.”

Once inside my car, I locked the doors and slumped into the seat.

The answers you seek are in your childhood home.

A bitter laugh slipped out. All that talk, and she’d given me riddles. I hadn’t set foot in that house in years. Not since—

I cut the thought off.

She’s full of it, I told myself. It’s all theater. But the pull toward that house was real, tugging at my mind relentlessly. And whether I liked it or not… It was the only lead I had.

I put the car in drive and headed back to the place I swore I’d never return to.