Chapter 13
The Door That Shouldn't Exist.
Aira kept the white flower beside her bed.
She didn't know why.
It had no unusual smell, no strange markings, and no visible sign that it was anything more than an ordinary flower.
Still, she couldn't bring herself to throw it away.
The next morning, she woke to find the flower gone.
Aira searched everywhere.
Under the bed.
Inside her desk.
Between the pages of her books.
Nothing.
Then she noticed something written on her bedroom mirror.
Two words.
REMEMBER US.
Her heart stopped.
She touched the glass.
The words disappeared beneath her fingers.
Aira immediately called Ren.
He arrived with the same worried expression she had seen too many times before.
“What happened?”
She showed him the mirror.
“There was a message.”
“From your sister?”
“I don't know.”
Ren examined the glass.
“Did you touch it?”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe that's why it's gone.”
Aira looked at him.
“What if she's trying to tell us something?”
“Then we need to find out what.”
They returned to the river.
The white flower was nowhere to be found.
But beneath the tree where they had discovered the box, there was now a narrow wooden door.
Aira stared at it.
“That wasn't there yesterday.”
Ren shook his head.
“No.”
There was no building behind it.
No wall.
Just a door standing alone between the trees.
Aira reached toward the handle.
Ren caught her wrist.
“Wait.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“Last time we followed a door, we ended up on a train that didn't belong in this world.”
Aira smiled faintly.
“Fair point.”
They stood there for several seconds.
Then Aira noticed a small symbol carved into the wood.
Two circles connected by a line.
The same symbol from the photograph.
Their symbol.
Aira slowly placed her hand against the door.
It opened.
Beyond it was not another room.
It was the old railway station.
But not the station they knew.
This one was bright and full of people.
Aira could see her younger self running across the platform.
Ren was beside her.
They were children again.
Aira stepped forward.
Ren grabbed her hand.
“Don't let go.”
“I won't.”
They entered together.
The door disappeared behind them.
Aira looked around.
The station was frozen in time.
People moved, but nobody noticed them.
A train stood at the platform.
Aira recognized it.
It was the same train from her memories.
Her sister was standing beside it.
Aira ran toward her.
“Sis!”
Her sister turned.
But she wasn't looking at Aira.
She was looking at the younger version of Aira.
The little girl was holding Ren's hand.
Aira watched herself speak.
“If you disappear, I'll find you.”
Young Ren looked at her.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
The memory faded.
Aira's eyes filled with tears.
She finally understood.
That promise had been the beginning.
Not an accident.
Not the Keeper.
Not the train.
The promise.
Their connection had existed long before either of them understood it.
Ren looked at her.
“We were always going to find each other.”
Aira nodded.
Then her sister finally looked at them.
She smiled.
“You finally understand.”
Aira stepped closer.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because you weren't ready.”
“Ready for what?”
Her sister looked toward the train.
“To choose your own life.”
Aira shook her head.
“I don't want to lose you again.”
“You won't.”
“How can you say that?”
Her sister smiled.
“Because I'm not the person you need to save anymore.”
Aira's tears fell.
“You saved me.”
“And now you have to save yourself.”
The station began shaking.
The people around them froze.
The train lights flickered.
Ren looked toward the platform.
“The Keeper.”
She was standing at the far end of the station.
But this time, she wasn't alone.
Behind her stood hundreds of people.
Every forgotten soul who had ever entered the train.
The Keeper raised her hand.
The station began to fade.
Aira's sister stepped toward her.
“It's time.”
Aira reached for her.
“Wait!”
Her sister smiled.
“You kept your promise.”
Aira cried.
“I don't want this to be goodbye.”
“It isn't.”
Her sister touched Aira's cheek.
“It's the first time you're saying goodbye without losing me.”
The world went white.
Aira opened her eyes beside the river.
Ren was kneeling beside her.
The wooden door was gone.
The tree stood exactly as it had before.
Aira looked around.
Her sister wasn't there.
But she wasn't afraid anymore.
Ren helped her stand.
“You okay?”
Aira nodded.
“She wanted us to move forward.”
Ren squeezed her hand.
“Then we will.”
Aira looked down.
The ring he had made for her was still on her finger.
She smiled.
“Together?”
“Together.”
Far away, beneath the old station, the last train slowly began to disappear.
And for the first time in years, the doors remained open.