OATH OF SHADOWS

While Raymond was lost in thought, trying to find a solution, Emilia was in the attic, which she had turned into her personal sanctuary.

She sat brushing her jet-black hair, as dark as coal, her movements slow and deliberate. She wore a simple yet beautiful dark brown cotton dress that reached below her knees, with a red ribbon tying her hair back in a neat bow. Despite the calmness of her actions, her heart felt constricted, and her mind kept replaying fragments of the previous night—disturbing images she couldn't shake.

Emilia's thoughts, deeply reflecting on everything that had happened:

(Could this be the work of our neighbor, Mrs. Catherine? Yes, she resembles a witch and often comes into our house. Maybe she placed a spell inside and outside the home. Or perhaps she cursed me with envy. Yes, envy—it must be envy. She's jealous because I'm better than her daughter.)

The stillness of the attic seemed almost alive, with shadows from the wooden beams above stretching and shifting in the faint light streaming through the dusty window. The air felt unnaturally cold, carrying a strange, almost imperceptible weight. The faint creak of the wooden floor beneath her chair was the only sound, until—knock, knock.

A loud banging on the old wooden door shattered the calm.

Emilia smiled faintly, brushing her hands down the folds of her dress as she stood.

(It's our neighbor, Mrs. Catherine.)

She skipped down the staircase, sliding down the banister of the cracked wooden railing. Her eyes lit up with childish excitement as she opened the door to find Mrs. Catherine standing there—a plump woman with large cheeks and dark brown hair styled into a large bun. Her sharp green eyes seemed to glint with an unreadable emotion as she immediately wrapped Emilia in a tight hug, squeezing her so hard that Emilia struggled for air.

Emilia's inner thoughts:

(Does she think I'm a doll to squeeze like this?)

Emilia pushed the door wide open, revealing a small girl standing there in a light blue dress that barely reached her knees. Her brown hair was styled into two neat braids, each adorned with a pretty pink ribbon. She held a basket covered with a clean red cloth and half-hid shyly behind her mother's puffy green dress.

Zina, shyly:

"H-Hello... I brought some cakes I baked with my mom. I..."

Emilia eagerly interrupted:

"Enough talking, Zina! Come, I'll show you something in my room!"

She grabbed Zina's hand and pulled her upstairs. Mrs. Catherine smiled, waving goodbye to her daughter.

"Have fun, my dear. I'll come back to pick you up at noon."

---

In the attic:

The attic was Emilia's sanctuary. The dim light filtering through the small window created an intimate, almost secretive atmosphere. The faint scent of old wood lingered in the room, and shadows from the wooden beams above shifted, as if silent observers to everything that unfolded.

Emilia, calmly:

"Sit here, Zina." She pointed to the mustard-colored carpet with pink patterns on the floor.

Zina nodded and sat quietly, her hands clasped neatly in her lap. Her cotton dress flowed gently to the floor, like a calm stream, while her black eyes followed Emilia intently, waiting for her to speak.

Zina:

"What's on your mind, Emilia?"

Emilia, with a distant look:

"Zina, you've been my only friend since childhood, and because of that, I'm going to share a dangerous secret with you."

Zina:

"Does your father know about it?"

Emilia:

"There's no need for him to know everything, my friend. And yes, he knows, but he might punish me if I tell him again. Maybe you'll understand instead!"

Emilia leaned closer, lowering her voice to a whisper.

"There's someone I see every night."

Zina's eyes widened in shock, her expression shifting between disbelief and nervous curiosity. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her dress.

"Are you sure, Emilia? Maybe it's your father checking on you at night. Did you think of that?"

Emilia leaned even closer, her voice trembling slightly:

"It's a person without a face, a black figure standing by my head."

Zina froze, her cheeks paling. She shuffled back slightly, putting distance between them.

"What's wrong, Emilia? Are you sure about what you're seeing? It could be... your imagination or a hallucination. Are you hallucinating?"

Emilia slowly rose from her spot, her movements deliberate, her gaze cold and focused.

"Look, Zina... it's behind you."

Zina hesitated, her voice trembling as her head turned slightly. Her heart pounded so loudly she thought it might echo in the room.

"Stop joking, Emilia, please. You know I'm easily scared."

The attic seemed to hold its breath. Shadows deepened, and the faint creak of the wooden boards came from the corner of the room. Emilia tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable.

"Wait... I didn't even know who you were until now..."

Zina froze completely, her heart racing as Emilia's eyes fixed on the corner of the wall.

Zina, her voice trembling and barely audible:

"Emilia... what are you looking at? Please, stop scaring me..."

The room fell silent except for the creak of the wooden boards as Zina shifted nervously. Finally, Emilia turned to Zina, her face calm but puzzled.

"Zina, did you see that?"

Zina, her voice barely above a whisper:

"Please... Emilia, this is a good prank. You can stop now."

Emilia stood her ground, her tone firm and serious.

"You're right. I should explain everything that happened."

Zina, clutching her hands nervously:

"About the prank?"

Emilia waved dismissively.

"No, no. Just listen to what I have to say... and focus."

As Emilia began to speak, the dim light from the window flickered. A shadow stretched across the wall, unnoticed by either of the girls. And yet, in the corner of her mind, Emilia couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't over. Not yet.