This wasn’t supposed to be here.
And I don’t know if you’ll even see it.
But if you do… please keep going. She’s somewhere inside - the girl who didn’t come back. They say it is broken, but maybe it’s memory that fractures first.
There’s a house. You’ll know it when you’re close.
Things won’t look wrong… but they’ll feel wrong.
It remembers more than she does. More than we do.
I’ve traced this hiccup so many times, I think I’m becoming part of it.
But if someone new steps in - maybe that changes something.
Maybe she’ll hear you.
Or maybe you’ll just become another echo.
Please don’t stop.
Even if she already has.