WILLA

"The anatomy," Steven said, grabbing a pen and sheet of paper from the desk.

I had decided to tell them the truth. Well... part of it. Not about me being Willa or from another world.

I doubted any of that would make sense to them. If anything, it would only make me sound completely insane.

No one would believe me anyway. Not when I looked exactly like Elyse.

But the monster? That part was real.

And for now, the conversation had been going surprisingly well. Neither Steven nor Whitney looked at me like I was losing my mind.

For the first time since arriving here, I felt like someone might actually be able to help me.

Whitney had promised they would.

Trusting people had never come easily to me, but somehow, I trusted her.

Maybe it was instinct. Maybe my heart simply wanted to believe Elyse’s parents wouldn’t hurt me.

"The anatomy, Elyse," Steven repeated patiently. "That’s the only way I can help identify it. If we search the monster database, we might find something."

I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat.

"It was... tall," I whispered.

The moment the words left me, the memory crashed into me again.

The hallway. The wall digging painfully into my back. Its dark, empty eyes fixed on me.

That scratchy creepy voice. The promises it listed still echoed in my head.

My life for food. For women. For pleasure. For meaningless things.

I clenched my hands tightly and squeezed my eyes shut, willing the memory away.

It didn’t leave.

"Elyse..."

"I’m going to find you," the voice hissed inside my head. "And when I do, I’ll kill you."

My heartbeat lurched violently. A shiver tore through me despite the warmth filling the room.

"Surrender now."

I opened my mouth, closed it, then tried again. A sharp gasp ripped from my throat.

Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.

It felt like the monster’s hands were around my throat again, squeezing tighter and tighter while I struggled for air.

"Elyse...?"

"God... please..." I choked out through clenched teeth. "I didn’t come this far just to die."

I wanted to live. I wanted to live. I wanted to live.

I chanted like a mantra. Over again until my head was spinning.

"Elyse!"

I wheezed violently and snapped out of it. My eyes flew open.

Whitney was in front of me, gripping my shoulders as she shook me gently.

She cupped my cheek when I still didn’t respond immediately.

"Wake up, Elyse."

Then she turned toward Steven, panic flashing across her face.

"I told you not to push her!" she cried. "Of course she said she could do it, but can’t you see she’s traumatized?"

"How was I supposed to know?" Steven shot back defensively. "She said she was ready. I didn’t force her."

"Well stop asking her!" Whitney snapped.

Steven scoffed under his breath and shook his head, but thankfully didn’t argue further. Whitney turned back to me, her eyes glistening with tears.

Before I could react, she pulled me into her arms and held me tightly.

"I’m sorry," she whispered shakily. "I shouldn’t have let him ask you that. This is my fault."

"No," I finally managed to say.

My own voice sounded distant. Weak. Whitney pulled back immediately to look at me.

"I wanted to tell you," I admitted softly.

Steven let out a tired sigh. Whitney shot him another irritated glare, making him raise both hands in surrender.

"I’m sorry," Steven said, pushing the paper and pen aside. He straightened from where he had been leaning against the desk. "I guess that wasn’t the best approach."

I looked away from him, letting my gaze wander around the room instead. I had been doing that ever since stepping inside.

Steven’s office was massive—large enough to pass as a bedroom. White walls. White ceiling. White curtains.

Everything looked too sterile. Too clean. It reminded me of a hospital.

Medical equipment filled the room. An examination table stood near the wall beside an ultrasound machine and an X-ray monitor. I knew Steven was a doctor, but I hadn’t expected his home office to feel this clinical.

He walked back around the desk and lowered himself into his chair.

"I’ll prepare a report confirming your amnesia," he began.

"The monster wasn’t anything I’ve ever seen before," I interrupted quietly.

My eyes remained fixed on the skeleton model standing near the coat rack across the room.

"It was huge," I continued. "Ugly. Its eyes were too large for its head, and its feet looked twisted... misshapen."

A shiver crawled through me.

"It looked like something dragged straight out of hell."

And nightmare.

Silence settled heavily in the room. Slowly, I looked back at Steven. But he wasn’t looking at me.

He was staring at Whitney.

Again, that same silent understanding passed between them without a single word being spoken.

"I think it was sent to kill me," I added, hoping the information might help somehow.

"That’s ridiculous," Whitney grunted suddenly as she rose to her feet.

I flinched instinctively at the sharpness in her voice.

"No one is sending monsters after you," she said firmly. "It was most likely a coincidence."

Was it really just a coincidence?

Maybe I was overthinking it. But every time that thing appeared, it said the same thing.

That it was going to kill me.

And how could a monster suddenly attack me in a world where monsters had never even existed to me before all this?

Whitney paced restlessly across the office. From the window. To the center of the room. Then back again.

She muttered under her breath nonstop, too low for me to properly catch.

"How many times have you seen it?" Steven asked, frowning.

Unlike Whitney, he remained composed, but concern still lingered heavily in his eyes. Concern. And suspicion.

"Twice," I whispered.

I didn’t elaborate further. Whitney’s movements faltered slightly. She was trembling.

It would’ve been easy to miss with how much she kept moving, but I noticed it in the subtle shake of her hands.

Eventually, she crossed the room toward Steven and began speaking to him in hushed tones.

I strained to hear them, catching only fragments.

"Hollow..."

"...monster..."

The words meant nothing to me.

Trying to listen became pointless, so I gave up and let my attention drift around the office again instead.

That was when I noticed the large framed photograph hanging on the wall.

In it was Steven, Whitney, Elyse and a boy.

He looked a little older than Elyse and, strangely enough, looked nothing like either Steven or Whitney.

Dark hair. Defined cheekbones. Eyes as dark as midnight. A sharp angular jaw set against the softer heart-shaped and round features the rest of the family seemed to share.

I frowned slightly at the picture. Was he their son?

I rose quietly and walked toward the picture while Whitney and Steven continued their hushed conversation behind me.

My gaze settled on the photograph. Mostly on Elyse.

The girl who looked exactly like me. For a moment, my thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Where was Elyse?nWhat had really happened to her? And was the same monster hunting her too?

From the way her parents reacted earlier, it was obvious they understood more than they were saying. I wanted to ask questions. So many of them.

But something told me now wasn’t the right time.

"That was your fifteenth birthday."

I startled violently at Whitney’s voice behind me and turned too quickly.

She offered me a small wistful smile.

"You insisted on taking a proper family picture that day," she said softly. "Your father and I couldn’t say no. He loved you dearly."

I looked back at the photograph again, my gaze drifting toward the black-haired boy beside Elyse.

He was definitely part of the family. But where was he now?

"Come," Whitney said gently. "Your father is about to finish the report."

I nodded and followed her back across the room.

This time, I sat on the examination table while Steven approached with a clipboard in hand. He asked a few questions, jotting things down occasionally before eventually returning to his desk and typing up the report.

Meanwhile, Whitney stood behind me, softly braiding my hair while talking about things that had happened during the two months Elyse had been gone.

"Done," Steven said.

He rose from his chair and walked toward the printer. Once the paper slid out, he skimmed through it quickly before a satisfied smile crossed his face.

Reaching into his desk drawer, he pulled out a small brown envelope, folded the document neatly, and slipped it inside.

Then he handed it to me. I took the envelope slowly, staring down at it.

"Give that to Headmaster Alaric," Steven said. "He’ll understand why you need it."

His gaze softened slightly. "You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone when you don’t want to."

I really didn’t want to.

But in an academy like Lykaon Royal—where Elyse was popular—it felt impossible to avoid questions forever.

"You don’t owe anyone an explanation," Whitney added gently.

I gave a small nod.

"Remember this," Whitney said suddenly, gripping both my shoulders before lowering herself slightly to meet my eyes.

Her expression turned serious. Almost urgent.

"You are Elyse Maddox," she said. "Eighteen years old. Born January eighteenth."

I nodded slowly, holding her gaze.

"You entered Lykaon Royal Academy at sixteen and were placed into House Valerius after your evaluation."

"Why Valerius?" I asked with a slight frown.