Jul closed the bathroom mirror gently, her reflection folding into itself. It was just past 5 p.m. The room was quiet, her hair pinned back with precision, lips softly painted. She stood in front of her closet for five minutes before touching a single hanger.

Aisha’s smile does more than unsettle Elias—it awakens something inside him. A confidence he hasn’t felt in years slips to the surface, brief but undeniable. That night, the corridor returns, warmer now, and one door finally opens. When Elias wakes, his sketchbook holds a drawing he doesn’t remember making. And a signature that isn’t his.