CHAPTER THREE : THE THINGS WE DON’T SAY
1913 Words
By morning, Elena had convinced herself that nothing had happened.
Again.
She had become surprisingly good at it.
She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing her hair while refusing to look at the inside of her wrist.
The golden symbol was still there.
Barely.
It looked almost like a faint birthmark now, its edges blurred beneath her skin.
She had spent half the night staring at it.
At one point, she had even taken a picture.
The photograph showed nothing.
Just skin.
No symbol.
No light.
Nothing.
Elena had deleted the picture.
She didn’t want evidence of something she couldn’t explain.
“Elena!”
Her father’s voice came from downstairs.
“You’re going to be late.”
She looked at the clock.
8:26.
“Damn it.”
She hurriedly pulled on her shoes, grabbed her bag, and rushed downstairs.
Daniel Vale was sitting at the dining table, reading the newspaper.
At sixty, he still had the kind of presence that made people automatically straighten their posture around him. His hair had turned mostly gray, but his dark eyes remained sharp.
He lowered the newspaper when Elena entered.
“You look terrible.”
Elena stopped.
“Good morning to you too.”
“I’m being honest.”
“You’re supposed to lie to your daughter.”
“Why?”
“To protect her feelings.”
Daniel folded the newspaper.
“I’ve never been good at lying.”
Something about the statement made Elena pause.
She stared at him.
Her father noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”
Elena smiled.
“I didn’t sleep well.”
“Nightmares?”
She hesitated.
“Yeah.”
Daniel’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
But Elena noticed.
“You’ve been having them again?”
“Again?”
“You used to have them when you were younger.”
“I know.”
“Your mother said they’ve started again.”
Elena looked toward the kitchen.
“She told you?”
Daniel nodded.
“She worries.”
“She doesn’t have to.”
“That’s what children always say.”
“I’m twenty-four.”
“You’re still my child.”
Elena smiled.
“Unfortunately.”
Daniel chuckled.
For a moment, everything felt normal.
Warm.
Safe.
Then Daniel reached across the table and touched her wrist.
Elena immediately pulled her hand away.
He frowned.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re hiding something.”
Elena looked down.
The mark beneath her sleeve seemed to burn.
She forced a smile.
“I think I’m getting sick.”
Daniel studied her face.
“You have a fever?”
“No.”
“Headache?”
“A little.”
“You should stay home.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“I have work.”
“Work will still be there tomorrow.”
Elena stood.
“I’m fine, Dad.”
Daniel didn’t answer.
She grabbed her bag.
As she turned toward the door, his voice stopped her.
“Elena.”
She looked back.
He was watching her strangely.
Not like a concerned father.
Like someone trying to remember something.
“Yeah?”
Daniel’s eyes moved to her wrist.
Then back to her face.
“Have you ever had a birthmark there?”
Elena’s heart skipped.
“What?”
“Your wrist.”
She pulled her sleeve lower.
“No.”
Daniel stared at her for another moment.
Then he shook his head.
“Never mind.”
Elena left.
But Daniel remained at the table long after the door closed.
His wife entered the room.
“You saw it.”
Daniel looked at her.
Miriam’s face was pale.
“The mark.”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
“When did it appear?”
“Last night.”
Daniel stood.
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you sure?”
Miriam looked toward the door Elena had just walked through.
“I’ve seen that symbol before.”
Daniel’s expression hardened.
“Where?”
Miriam didn’t answer.
“Miriam.”
She looked at him.
“When she was born.”
Silence filled the room.
Daniel stared at his wife.
“I thought you said it disappeared.”
“It did.”
“Then how—”
“I don’t know.”
Miriam’s voice trembled.
“But it shouldn’t be coming back.”
Daniel walked toward the window.
Outside, the street looked perfectly ordinary.
People were going to work.
Children were walking to school.
Cars passed.
Nothing looked wrong.
Yet something in the air felt different.
Daniel remembered the night Elena was born.
He had been thirty-six.
Young.
Terrified.
Miriam had been exhausted after hours of labor.
Then, at exactly 3:17 in the morning, every light in the hospital had gone out.
For six seconds.
When the lights returned, Elena had been born.
And there had been something else.
A sound.
A whisper.
Daniel had never forgotten it.
Protect her.
He had assumed it was a hallucination brought on by exhaustion.
Twenty-four years later, he wasn’t so sure.
“Daniel.”
He turned.
Miriam was crying.
“What if they’re coming back?”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“They won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I won’t let them.”
Miriam looked at him.
“You don’t even know who they are.”
Daniel’s eyes darkened.
“No.”
He looked toward the door.
“But I know what they want.”
⸻
Elena spent the morning trying to forget the conversation.
She failed.
By lunchtime, she had checked her wrist eleven times.
The mark hadn’t disappeared.
If anything, it looked slightly darker.
She was sitting alone at a café when someone placed a cup of coffee in front of her.
She looked up.
The waitress smiled.
“You didn’t order this.”
Elena frowned.
“No.”
“It’s already paid for.”
“By who?”
The waitress pointed toward the window.
Elena turned.
A man was sitting outside.
Black coat.
Dark hair.
Silver eyes.
Her stomach dropped.
It was him.
The man from yesterday.
He looked directly at her.
Elena stood.
She pushed through the café doors.
“Hey!”
The man was already walking away.
“Wait!”
She followed him.
He crossed the street.
Elena hurried after him.
“Stop!”
He didn’t.
She turned the corner.
He was gone.
Completely.
Elena stood in the middle of the sidewalk, breathing heavily.
“Where did you go?”
A voice answered behind her.
“You shouldn’t follow strangers.”
She spun around.
An elderly woman stood there.
Elena stared at her.
“What?”
The woman smiled.
“Especially ones who aren’t strangers.”
Elena’s expression tightened.
“Do I know you?”
“No.”
“Then what does that mean?”
The woman looked at Elena’s wrist.
Her smile disappeared.
For a second, something almost like fear crossed her face.
Then she looked away.
“You should go home.”
Elena frowned.
“Why?”
“Because it’s coming.”
“What is?”
The woman walked past her.
Elena grabbed her arm.
“Wait.”
The woman’s skin was ice cold.
Elena immediately released her.
The woman looked at her.
“You really don’t remember.”
“Remember what?”
But the woman had already walked away.
Elena watched her disappear into the crowd.
She felt a strange pressure in her chest.
Like something was trying to wake up.
She pressed her hand against it.
The feeling vanished.
She shook her head.
“I’m losing my mind.”
She turned around.
And froze.
Across the street, the black-haired man was standing beneath a tree.
Watching her.
This time, he smiled.
Then he disappeared.
Not walked away.
Not turned a corner.
He simply vanished.
Elena stood completely still.
Cars moved around her.
People passed.
Someone laughed nearby.
Life continued.
But Elena felt as though the world had briefly stopped.
⸻
That night, Elena came home earlier than usual.
Her father was in the living room.
He looked up when she entered.
“You didn’t call.”
“I know.”
“Your mother was worried.”
“I’m sorry.”
Daniel studied her.
“You saw someone.”
Elena stopped.
“What?”
“Someone followed you.”
Her heart began beating faster.
“How did you know?”
Daniel stood.
“Did he speak to you?”
Elena stared at him.
“Who?”
“Elena.”
She had never heard that tone in her father’s voice before.
“Tell me.”
She swallowed.
“I saw a man.”
Daniel’s face went pale.
“What did he look like?”
“Dark hair.”
Daniel’s breathing changed.
“Anything else?”
“Gray eyes.”
Silence.
“Almost silver.”
Daniel looked toward Miriam.
She had entered the room without Elena noticing.
The color drained from her face.
Elena looked between them.
“What?”
Neither answered.
“Dad?”
Daniel forced himself to look at her.
“Did he say anything?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“He bought me coffee.”
Daniel’s eyes widened.
“Coffee?”
“Yes.”
“Did you drink it?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Elena frowned.
“Why?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
“Dad, what’s going on?”
He looked at Miriam.
She shook her head almost imperceptibly.
Not yet.
Daniel turned back to Elena.
“Nothing.”
Elena stared at him.
“You two are terrible liars.”
Daniel gave a weak smile.
“Go upstairs.”
“Dad—”
“Please.”
Something in his voice made her stop.
She slowly walked upstairs.
The moment she disappeared, Miriam turned to Daniel.
“You know who he is.”
Daniel’s face hardened.
“I think I do.”
“Who?”
Daniel looked toward the staircase.
“I don’t know.”
Miriam stepped closer.
“Daniel.”
He lowered his voice.
“But if I’m right…”
He didn’t finish.
“What?”
Daniel looked at his wife.
“The past has found our daughter.”
⸻
Upstairs, Elena stood outside her bedroom.
She had heard them.
Not everything.
But enough.
The past has found our daughter.
She opened her bedroom door.
The room was dark.
She reached for the light.
Nothing happened.
She tried again.
Still nothing.
“Great.”
She reached for her phone.
Then stopped.
There was something on her bed.
A small white feather.
Elena stared at it.
She slowly approached.
She picked it up.
It was warm.
Unnaturally warm.
The moment her fingers closed around it, a voice whispered inside her head.
Not from the room.
From somewhere deeper.
Somewhere she couldn’t reach.
Run.
Elena dropped the feather.
She backed away.
Her heart pounded.
Then came another whisper.
Barely audible.
Before they find you.
The bedroom lights suddenly turned on.
Elena screamed.
The feather was gone.
She stood frozen.
Nothing moved.
Nothing spoke.
Nothing remained.
She looked toward the window.
For the briefest moment, she thought she saw a figure standing on the roof opposite her.
Six shadows stretched behind it.
Then lightning flashed.
The figure disappeared.
Elena slowly closed the curtains.
She didn’t sleep that night.
And downstairs, her father stayed awake until dawn, holding an old photograph he had kept hidden for twenty-four years.
A photograph of Elena as a newborn.
On the back, written in faded ink, were six words:
She must never remember what she is.
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