Chapter 15
The Man in the Photograph.
Aira didn't move.
The open door stood in front of her.
Cold air drifted into the house.
Her mother remained frozen beside the table.
Ren stepped forward and quietly closed the door.
He locked it.
Then he checked the lock again.
Aira looked at him.
“Do you think that will stop him?”
“No.”
“Good. At least we're honest.”
Ren looked at the white flower lying outside.
“Don't touch it.”
Aira nodded.
Her mother slowly sat down.
“There was something else.”
Aira turned.
“What?”
“The man at the hospital.”
Her mother looked frightened.
“He spoke to me.”
“What did he say?”
“He asked whether your sister had told me about the station.”
Aira's heart tightened.
“What did you say?”
“I told him I didn't know what he meant.”
Her mother looked toward the door.
“He smiled and said, ‘She will tell you when the time comes.’”
Ren exchanged a look with Aira.
“Did he give you his name?”
Her mother shook her head.
“He didn't need to.”
Aira looked at the photograph again.
The man's face seemed strangely familiar.
Not because she had seen him before.
Because she felt as if she had been looking for him without knowing it.
Ren noticed her expression.
“What?”
“I think I've seen him.”
“Where?”
Aira closed her eyes.
A memory surfaced.
She was young.
Standing beside her sister at the station.
Someone was watching them from across the tracks.
The same man.
Aira opened her eyes.
“He was there.”
Ren stared at her.
“Three years ago?”
“Before that.”
Aira looked at her mother.
“Maybe he's been watching us for much longer.”
Her mother whispered,
“Then why didn't he take you?”
Aira didn't know.
They returned to the photograph.
Ren zoomed in on the background.
There was something written on a wall behind the man.
Aira could barely make it out.
She took out her camera and photographed the screen.
The image became clearer.
Three words appeared.
THE FIRST MEMORY.
Ren frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Aira looked at her sister's letter.
The Keeper was not the beginning.
Then she looked at the mysterious man.
Maybe the Keeper had been protecting them from something.
Maybe the train wasn't the real danger.
Maybe they had misunderstood everything.
Aira suddenly remembered something her sister had said.
The train isn't a prison.
She looked at Ren.
“We were looking in the wrong place.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Keeper wasn't trying to make us disappear.”
Ren's expression changed.
“She was trying to keep something away from us.”
Aira nodded.
“And now that we've returned…”
The room became silent.
Someone knocked on the door.
Three slow knocks.
Aira's mother stood up.
“Don't open it.”
Another three knocks.
Ren moved toward the door.
Aira grabbed his arm.
“No.”
The knocking stopped.
They waited.
Then a voice came from outside.
“Aira.”
Her blood ran cold.
It was her sister's voice.
Aira's mother began crying.
“Aira…”
Ren shook his head.
“It's not her.”
The voice came again.
“Open the door.”
Aira stared at the handle.
Every part of her wanted to believe it.
Then she remembered what her sister had taught her.
Never trust a voice simply because you recognize it.
Aira stepped back.
“No.”
Silence.
Then the voice changed.
It became deeper.
Colder.
“You remember now.”
The lights went out.
Aira held Ren's hand.
When the lights returned, the white flower outside the door was gone.
In its place was a photograph.
Ren picked it up.
Aira looked over his shoulder.
The picture showed three children.
Aira.
Ren.
And a third child standing between them.
Aira stared.
“Who is that?”
Ren shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Aira looked at her mother.
Her mother was crying.
“You know him.”
She nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
Aira's heart stopped.
“Who is he?”
Her mother looked at the photograph.
“He was your brother.”
The room went completely silent.
Aira couldn't breathe.
“My… brother?”
Her mother nodded.
“He disappeared before you were born.”
Aira stared at the photograph.
The boy's face was clear.
His eyes were exactly like hers.
Ren looked at the back.
There was one sentence.
He was the first one to disappear.
Aira's hands began shaking.
Suddenly, everything they had believed about the seven days felt meaningless.
Her sister hadn't been the beginning.
The Keeper hadn't been the beginning.
The train hadn't been the beginning.
There had been someone before all of them.
Someone connected to Aira by blood.
Someone the world had completely forgotten.
And somewhere outside the house, in the darkness, the mysterious man was watching.
This time, he wasn't smiling.
He was waiting.