Charlotte didn't sleep that night.
The photograph lay on the bed beside her, and she stared at it until dawn blurred into morning. Every time she closed her eyes she saw it again — her arm resting around empty air.
"I know you," she whispered hoarsely. "I know you…"
If Eliza was real, then proof had to exist outside this town.
School.
Registration.
Government records.
Someone, somewhere, must remember her.
Charlotte grabbed her phone.
For the first time since arriving, the signal bars were full.
4G.
Perfect connection.
Her chest tightened.
"That wasn't there before…"
She ignored the unease and opened the browser.
She typed carefully:
Eliza Grey Hollow missing person
Search.
Loading…
Results appeared instantly.
Nothing.
Only tourist pages about abandoned roads and a weather report archive.
Her fingers trembled. She refined it.
Eliza missing person Grey Hollow Nigeria
Search.
Nothing.
No articles.
No reports.
No police record.
Her breathing quickened.
"Okay… maybe school."
She searched her secondary school website.
The alumni database opened slowly.
She scrolled through graduation years.
Her eyes moved line by line.
Name after name after name.
Friends she remembered.
Classmates she barely spoke to.
Even students who transferred mid-year.
All there.
Except—
No Eliza.
Her chest tightened painfully.
She checked photos.
Yearbook group pictures.
Her fingers shook as she zoomed in.
There she stood.
Charlotte.
Standing in the exact pose she remembered.
Smiling.
Her arm raised.
Wrapped around…
nothing.
Empty space beside her.
She dropped the phone onto the bed.
"No…"
She opened her gallery.
Her personal photos from years ago were still saved to cloud backup. She searched manually, breath trembling.
She found a selfie she clearly remembered taking with Eliza on a bus.
She opened it.
The seat beside her was empty.
Her head leaned slightly sideways — as if resting against someone's shoulder — but there was no one there.
Her breathing became uneven.
"I talked to you… we laughed… you told me about this place…"
Her voice shook.
Then she noticed something new.
The timestamp.
The photo date.
It was taken the day she first came to Grey Hollow.
Not before.
Her hands trembled violently.
Every single image she remembered with Eliza…
began the same day she arrived here.
Never earlier.
Never outside.
Charlotte pressed her palms to her head.
"No… no… I didn't just meet you here… you brought me here… I followed you…"
Her mind fought itself.
Because her memory insisted Eliza had a life.
But reality — photos, records, internet, school — all insisted:
She had never existed.
---
Her phone rang suddenly.
She flinched.
Unknown Number
Her throat tightened as she answered slowly.
"…Hello?"
Static.
Then a voice.
Her mother.
"Hello? Who is this?"
Charlotte froze.
"Mum… it's me."
A pause.
"…I'm sorry," her mother said gently. "I think you have the wrong number."
Charlotte's hands began to shake.
"Mum, it's Charlotte."
Silence.
Then concern.
"My daughter is at home," her mother replied softly. "She's been home all week. Please stop calling."
The line cut.
The phone slipped from Charlotte's hand onto the bed.
Her breathing stopped.
Her mother…
remembered a Charlotte.
Just not her.
She slowly backed away from the bed.
The realization was suffocating.
Grey Hollow wasn't only erasing Eliza.
It was replacing Charlotte.
Outside this town…
someone else was living her life.
Her chest tightened painfully.
"I'm being… overwritten."
The house creaked softly.
Not from wind.
From settling.
Like it had accepted her presence.
And for the first time, Charlotte understood why the town felt patient.
It didn't need to trap her.
Eventually…
there would be nowhere left for her to return to.
On the bed, her phone screen lit up by itself.
A notification appeared:
Location saved: Grey Hollow — Home
Charlotte stared at it.
Because she never saved that.
And beneath it, another notification slowly appeared:
Previous visits: 7