That morning, Eli stared at the mirror in his room for almost ten minutes.
He didn't move. Just stared.
I stood at the doorway, watching him cautiously.
"She appeared again?" I asked.
Eli nodded.
"She said something. But… I couldn't hear it clearly."
I walked in slowly and stood beside him.
The mirror looked ordinary in daylight.
But in the upper-left corner… there was a faint mist. Like fog from cold breath.
And there, written faintly in a child's handwriting:
"She remembers you."
We returned to the dining table.
Eli brought out a few letters and old photos from his small suitcase.
"I actually found these before I moved," he said. "In my grandma's attic."
He handed me a faded letter stamped in 1987.
Shaky handwriting:
"To my sister Lydia,Don't ever go back to 4B.If anything happens to me, make sure no one from our family ever rents it again. Especially the children. It remembers us."
— M
I looked at Eli.
"Who's Lydia?"
"My grandma," he said quietly. "And M…"
"—is Mara," I finished. "She was still alive… at that time."
We began piecing everything together like a puzzle.
Mara and Lydia were sisters raised in Apartment 4B.
As a teenager, Mara started showing signs of possession—or "disturbances."
Their family hired a local shaman who introduced the idea of a spirit contract—an ancient ritual believed to calm restless souls through a spiritual pact.
But the ritual failed.
And Mara… vanished.
Officially, she was listed as a runaway.
But now Eli knew the truth: Mara never left that apartment.
"Then why me?" Eli asked.
"Why did I come back here without knowing any of this?"
I pointed to Mara's letter.
"She said the apartment remembers your family. That means you're not just tied by blood… but by spirit too."
Eli exhaled. "Then maybe… I'm the only one who can set her free."
We looked at the list again.
The final step: "Choose who must remember."
I knew this wasn't just a decision.
It wasn't about who wanted to remember.
It was about who was willing to carry the weight of all the memories that couldn't be shared.
That night, we decided to take the next step:
Visit the basement—even though the door was gone.
Truly gone.
Just a blank wall where the door used to be.
But when Eli placed his hand on that wall…
The bricks began to tremble gently.
Small cracks formed, shaping a vertical line.
And slowly…
The wall opened on its own.
The air inside was cold and smelled of damp earth.
We grabbed flashlights and descended the stairs one by one.
The basement wasn't a regular storage space.
It looked more like a ritual chamber.
Old candles were dead along the walls.
A broken salt circle lay on the floor.
And in the center—
A small wooden chair with a ragged cloth doll resting on top.
Eli stepped forward.
"This is the doll," he whispered.
"The one Mara held in the photo."
He gently picked it up.
The moment his hand touched the fabric, the room turned ice-cold.
Our flashlight beams flickered.
And voices… began whispering around us.
Whispers.
Sobs.
Then a child's voice:
"You forgot me."
Eli gasped.
He looked around, trembling.
"I remember," he said softly. "I remember now…"
Tears rolled down his cheeks.
"I came here once as a child. My grandma carried me… and covered my eyes. But I saw Mara. She was crying. She was trapped."
"And my grandma said: never remember this."
The sobs shifted into joyful weeping.
As if Mara's voice had heard his words.
Then, writing appeared on the stone wall:
"Now choose who keeps the memory."
Our flashlights went completely out.
Darkness swallowed everything.
And in that darkness, Mara's voice rang clear for the first time:
"Someone must carry my story.Or it will all happen again.You can leave…But someone must remember."
Eli turned to me in the dark.
"I'm not sure I'm strong enough," he whispered. "But… this is my responsibility, right?"
I wanted to respond, but Mara's voice interrupted:
"Or… he can take it for you."
I knew what she meant.
Me.
As the watcher.
I could take all of Eli's memories, let him forget completely, and allow him to live freely.
But at a cost:
I would carry everything on my own.
I looked toward where Eli stood.
"I could take all this from you," I said.
"But if I do… you'll never understand why the nightmares won't stop. You'll forget Mara, but your soul will still be connected."
Eli lowered his head.
"I don't want to forget. I want to remember."
I was silent for a moment.
Then nodded.
And in that darkness, the final words appeared on the wall:
✅ Task 7 Completed.
By the time we stepped out of the basement, dawn was breaking.
The cold air felt lighter.
Eli held Mara's doll tightly.
We knew this wasn't the end.
But we were one step closer to setting Mara free.
And for the first time…
The apartment was quiet.
Not because it was holding its breath.
But because it was waiting…
for the next.