Vivian Crane was locked away, but evil had a way of seeping through the cracks in this town.Jenna felt it like a coming storm, a pressure in the air before lightning struck.Whatever darkness came next, she would face it—with her badge, her wits, and her own strange communion with the dead.
She felt grateful for her family and friends, and most of all for Jake, the partner who supported her through everything—and with whom she shared tender feelings that they might someday be able to fully express to each other.
*
The roar of flames jerked Piper from sleep, her body rigid before her eyes even opened.It was the same sound she'd heard before—a hungry, living thing that consumed everything in its path.Her eyelids snapped open to find her bedroom transformed.Fire licked the walls, crawled across the ceiling, danced around the bed—yet nothing burned.No heat scorched her skin, no smoke filled her lungs.Just the endless, impossible fire, painting the night in shades of amber and gold.
“Not again,” Piper whispered.“Please, not again.”
The flames parted like a curtain, and through their veil stepped the doll she had seen yesterday morning at the kitchen table, made of porcelain and cloth, but her china-blue eyes bright with life.Her painted lips curved into a smile that seemed almost kind.
“Don't be afraid, Emma,” the doll said, her voice like music.“The flames won't hurt you.They've set me free, and now I'm here to set you free too.”
“My name is Piper,” she insisted, but her voice lacked conviction.“Piper Graves.I told you that before.Who are you?”
The doll’s laughter tinkled like glass wind chimes.“You already know me, Emma.I’m Loyalynne.”
Piper gasped.Her sister had just mentioned that name.The woman they’d arrested … the doll that was burned …
“What are you doing here?”Piper demanded.
The doll perched at the foot of Piper's bed, smoothing her old-fashioned dress with delicate hands.She ignored Piper’s questions.
“Oh, Emma.You don't understand how dangerous this dream of yours has become.”Loyalynne's face grew serious, her perfect features settling into an expression of concern.“This fantasy world you've created—it's not real.None of it is.”
“What are you talking about?”Piper pressed herself against the headboard, trying to create distance between them.But now Loyalynne moved toward her and reached out, almost touching Piper's trembling hand.
“Emma, listen to me,” the doll said.“Your mother, all of these people—they exist only in your imagination.You created them because you were lonely.Because you needed somewhere to hide.”
“No.”Piper shook her head.“I'm Piper Graves.I ran away from my family when I was sixteen.I—”
“You're Emma Kirby,” Loyalynne corrected gently.“You've been Emma for so long now.And this dream you've been having—this fantasy about being someone's lost sister—it's hurtful.”
The flames danced higher around them, casting grotesque shadows across the walls.Piper felt sweat bead on her forehead, even though the fire gave off no heat.
“These dream people of yours,” Loyalynne continued, “they suffer just like real people.They hurt and bleed and die.And you, Emma—you have nothing to offer them except pain.”
“That's not true,” Piper whispered.
“Isn't it?Two people are dead.A third almost died.All because of your dream.”Loyalynne's eyes were hypnotic pools of blue.“How cruel to let this continue when you know what happens to the people you imagine loving you.”
Piper felt her resistance crumbling.The world seemed to shift and blur around her.She thought of the visions, the voices—were they messages from beyond, or symptoms of a fractured mind?
Her gaze turned to the side table where she kept the brooch—her anchor, her talisman.If she could just hold it, feel its weight, maybe she could ground herself in what was real.
She lunged for it, fingers closing around the cool metal and weathered stone.But instead of the rush of clarity she expected, there was...nothing.The brooch lay inert in her palm, just a piece of old jewelry, powerless and ordinary.
“It won't help you anymore,” Loyalynne said, watching her with knowing eyes.“It's time to let it go, Emma.That brooch does nothing but chain you to a life that isn't yours, but you’re breaking free of all that now.”
Piper stared at the once-comforting object.Patricia had given it to her at the Lost and Found Collective, back when she still called herself Emma.
“You should throw it away,” Loyalynne suggested, her voice lilting and persuasive.“Take it back to where your false 'sister' found it—that well in Whispering Pines Forest.Throw it in, just like you did years ago.That will release you from this dream once and for all.”
“The well,” Piper murmured.Memory flashed before her—running through trees, heart pounding, the dark mouth of an abandoned well.The weight of the brooch in her palm before she let it fall into the darkness below.
“Yes,” Loyalynne smiled.“You remember.We need to go there tonight, Emma.Right now.”
“How?”Piper asked, her voice small and faraway.“How do we get there?”