The drive was quiet, filled with an undercurrent of something Annabelle couldn't name. When they arrived at her apartment, Namjoon handed her a card with his number.

"In case you remember anything else," he said, his voice softer than before.

She took it, nodding, before stepping inside. As soon as she closed the door, she let out a sharp scream. Everything about the night felt surreal.

She shook it off and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of ginger ale. Just as she took a sip, her phone buzzed—a message from her colleague Sozy, reminding her about an assignment due in the morning.

She screamed again.

After a frantic rush to finish her work, she finally collapsed into bed. Sleep came quickly, but it wasn't peaceful. She dreamt of shadows, of power pulsing under her skin. And a voice—deep, familiar—whispering her name.