Ever since she opened the coffin, Linh Nguyet hadn't felt like herself.
Time no longer flowed. She couldn't tell night from day. Everything inside her felt reversed, tangled, and pulled into a place far beneath the surface — a place light couldn't reach, where his voice whispered constantly:
"Remember… everything."
That night, as the mansion fell into darkness, Linh Nguyet sat alone in her room, clutching the crescent moon necklace she had once found beside the coffin.
The moon outside was dim. A thin mist blanketed the walkway.
Everything was deathly quiet — until she heard the faint sound of a piano echoing from downstairs.
A familiar melody.
One she had never learned… yet somehow knew by heart.
She left her room, her feet drawn by an unseen force. The hallway was cold. Lanterns extinguished. A faint glow seeped up through the stairwell.
She stepped down. Each creak of the stairs sent chills through her spine.
The grand hall was open.
The old piano stood in the center of the room. And he — Luc Trac — sat at it, back turned, fingers dancing lightly across the keys.
She walked closer, whispering, "What song are you playing?"
He didn't turn. But his voice rose, slow and heavy:
"The piece you wrote for me… before you betrayed me."
She froze.
"Be…trayed?"
The music stopped. He stood, turning toward her. His face was hazy in the moonlight, but his eyes — they couldn't hide the pain.
"You promised to stay with me forever.
But you let someone else in… and let me die instead."
Linh Nguyet shook her head. "I don't remember that. I—"
He stepped forward, gently touched her forehead.
"Then let me help you."
She fell into a deep trance.
Wind howled. Red skies bled across a distant hill. The mansion stood tall, pristine — untouched by decay or time.
She saw herself enter the house.
But she wasn't alone.
A young man walked beside her. Noble, well-dressed.
He held her hand, eyes full of affection, and said:
"If you marry him, I'll get the evidence I need. My name will be cleared, and we'll finally be free."
"But… what about him?" — she (the past version of herself) asked.
"Luc Trac isn't human," the man replied. "He's cursed. Haven't you heard? Every woman near him ends up dead."
She hesitated… then nodded.
A week later, the wedding took place.
The same white dress. The same music.
But on the wedding night, the other man returned.
He snuck into the mansion…
And set fire to the basement where Luc Trac slept.
She stood in the hallway, torn — between opening the door to save him… or fleeing with the man she thought she loved.
And in that moment… she turned away.
His scream rang out from the flames: "Nguyet… don't go! I trust you!"
She looked back.
The door closed.
And fire swallowed… everything.
Linh Nguyet jolted awake in the grand hall, soaked in sweat, her breath ragged.
In front of her stood the old piano, now smashed to pieces — keys broken, strings torn, as if someone had once destroyed it in a fit of madness.
No music.
No Luc Trac.
Only one final whisper echoed in her mind:
"Memory cannot be erased.
You can run from it…
…but guilt never lets go."