It's the next day, and the drive back to my apartment feels longer than usual, every second dragging out as my mind whirls with the weight of what's coming. Natalie's words echo in my head—you have to let him go. I still don't know if I can. Tyler's memory has been the only thing tethering me to something, even if that something is pain.

Chloe drives in silence, her hand occasionally squeezing mine as if reminding me she's still here. I cling to that—her presence. It feels like the only thing keeping me from completely unraveling.

"We're going to figure this out, Ettie." Chloe says softly, her voice trying to be reassuring, but I can hear the tremor in it. She's scared too. "Natalie knows what she's doing."

I nod, though my throat feels too tight to speak. My stomach twists with dread at the thought of going back into the apartment. The presence that has been lurking there, feeding off my grief, is waiting. It knows. It's always known. And now, we're going to confront it.

When we pull up outside my building, the sight of it makes my chest tighten. Everything looks the same—the brick walls, the windows, the familiar doorway—but it feels different now. Darker. As if the apartment itself is alive, waiting for me to step inside and face what I've been trying to avoid for so long.

Chloe glances at me, her expression unreadable. "Are you ready?"

No. I'm not ready. But I don't have a choice.

I nod, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Let's do this."

We step inside the apartment, and the air is thick, heavier than it was before. I can feel the weight of the entity pressing down on me, like a suffocating blanket of cold. Every corner of the apartment feels darker, more alive with shadows. It's like the space has been waiting for me, knowing that tonight will be different. Tonight, I won't be its prey. Tonight, I'm going to fight.

Max is at my heels, his fur bristling as he growls low in his throat. He senses it too. The wrongness in the air. The presence lurking in the walls. Chloe stays close to me, her hand gripping my arm, her fear palpable.

Thirty minutes later, Natalie finally arrives, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to the tension that's gripping me. She takes a deep breath, her eyes scanning the room, and I watch as she seems to assess the space, her face unreadable.

"It's here," Natalie says quietly, her voice steady. "It's strong."

My heart hammers in my chest, the fear spiking like needles in my veins. "What do we do?"

Natalie sets down her bag on the coffee table, pulling out a few small candles and what looks like a vial of oil. "We're going to perform a cleansing ritual. This entity has been feeding on your grief, Ettie, and it's latched onto you. We need to sever its hold, to release you from it. But it won't go easily."

I nod, my throat dry. I don't know if I can do this, but I have to try. I've spent so long trapped in this grief, letting it consume me, letting this thing take advantage of my pain. It's time to take control.

Natalie lights the candles, their small flames flickering in the dim room. The air seems to shift slightly, the weight of the presence growing stronger, as if it knows what's happening. As if it's preparing for battle.

"Sit in the center of the room," Natalie instructs. "You're the one it's attached to. You need to be in the heart of the ritual."

I sit cross-legged on the floor, Max lying beside me, his body tense. Chloe sits nearby, her eyes wide with fear but determined. Natalie moves around us, her voice low as she begins to speak in calm, measuring tones. The words are unfamiliar, ancient-sounding, and they fill the room with a strange, almost electric energy.

The temperature drops sharply, and the shadows in the room seem to stretch, twisting along the walls, creeping closer. The entity is here. I can feel it.

Suddenly, the air grows thick with a presence—a suffocating, malevolent force that presses against my chest, making it hard to breathe. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I can feel it closing in, wrapping itself around me like an icy fog.

Natalie's voice grows louder, stronger, her words more forceful as she chants. The candles flicker violently, their flames struggling against the dark, oppressive energy that's filling the room. I close my eyes, trying to focus on her voice, trying to keep myself from giving in to the fear that's clawing at my insides.

And then I hear it.

Tyler's voice.

"Ettie..."

It's so close. So real.

My eyes fly open, my heart slamming in my chest. I look around, but there's no one there. Just the empty room, the flickering candlelight, and the shadows that seem to pulse with life.

But the voice comes again, clearer this time.

"Ettie... help me..."

I shake my head, tears welling in my eyes. "No... you're not real! You're not him!"

The air grows colder, and the voice becomes more insistent, more desperate.

"Ettie, please! Don't leave me!"

My heart twists painfully in my chest, and I feel myself breaking all over again. It sounds so much like him. Like the Tyler I knew, the Tyler I loved. The pain is overwhelming, the grief suffocating, but I can't let it take me again. I can't fall into that trap.

"Don't listen to it!" Natalie shouts sharply, her voice cutting through the fog of confusion. "It's trying to manipulate you, Ettie! That's not Tyler, it's the entity using his voice!"

I squeeze my eyes shut, my hands trembling. I want to believe her, but the voice—it's so real. I can almost feel him, almost see him, standing in front of me, his arms open, waiting for me to run into them like I always did.

But I know it's a lie. I know it's not him.

I clench my fists, fighting against the overwhelming urge to give in. The presence is stronger now, pressing down on me, trying to force its way inside, trying to make me believe that Tyler is still here, that I can still reach him.

"I need you to let go, Ettie." Natalie says, her voice firm but gentle. "You have to let him go. That's the only way to free yourself."

I shake my head, tears streaming down my face. "I don't know how?!"

"You do!" Natalie insists. "You've been holding onto him because you're afraid of what comes after. Afraid of moving on without him. But you can't stay in this place of pain forever. You have to let him rest."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I feel something inside me crack, splintering under the weight of it all. I've been holding onto Tyler for so long, refusing to let go, refusing to face the reality that he's gone. And in doing so, I've allowed this thing to take over, to feed on my pain, to manipulate me.

The entity's presence tightens around me, growing darker, more oppressive, as if it knows I'm starting to slip away from its control.

I take a deep breath, my chest heaving with sobs, and I force myself to speak.

"I love you, Tyler!" I whisper, my voice shaking. "I'll always love you. But... I know the truth. The truth is that you're gone. And I need to let you go!"

The moment the words leave my mouth, the air shifts.

The coldness retreats, and the oppressive weight lifts, just slightly. The shadows seem to pull back, shrinking away from the light of the candles. The presence is still there, still strong, but it's weakening.

Natalie's voice grows louder, her chanting more urgent, and I can feel the energy in the room changing, shifting. The entity is fighting back, clinging to the last remnants of its hold on me, but I won't let it win. I won't let it take me.

"I let you go, Tyler!" I say, louder this time, my voice firmer. "I set you free!"

And then, with a final, sharp breath, the air around me explodes with energy.

The candles flicker violently, their flames shooting up high, and the shadows seem to writhe, twisting in on themselves before dissolving into the air. The coldness lifts completely, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the apartment is still. Quiet. Empty.

The presence is gone.

I sit on the floor, my body trembling, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Max is lying beside me, his body relaxed for the first time in days. Chloe kneels next to me, her hand on my shoulder, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Natalie stands, her face calm but exhausted. She looks at me, her eyes soft with understanding.

"You did it, Ettie!" she says gently. "It's over."

I nod, though the words feel surreal. It's over. The entity is gone. But the ache in my chest remains—the hollow, empty feeling where Tyler used to be. The grief is still there, but it feels different now. Lighter. Less suffocating.

I'm free. Though with that freedom comes a new kind of pain. I've let Tyler go.

And now, I have to figure out who I am without him.