Cold.
Not physical cold.
Not the kind that touched skin.
This cold existed deeper than that.
Inside memory.
Inside thought.
Nancy opened her eyes slowly.
The forest was gone.
The others were gone.
Even the ground beneath her feet felt unreal—like standing on glass submerged beneath dark water.
Above her stretched an endless sky filled with floating fragments of light.
Memories.
Thousands of them.
Drifting.
Breaking apart.
The Veil hummed around her.
Alive.
Watching.
Inside—
Nyra's presence flickered weakly.
Stay focused.
Nancy swallowed hard.
"Easy for you to say."
No response.
Which honestly felt ominous.
She started walking.
Or maybe the Veil moved around her instead.
Hard to tell.
Distance behaved strangely here.
Time worse.
Then—
she heard laughter.
Small.
Young.
Nancy froze instantly.
Because she recognized it.
Her own.
Ahead of her—
a memory unfolded.
Not like watching a screen.
Like stepping directly into the past.
She was six years old again.
Sitting on the kitchen counter swinging her legs while her mother cooked dinner nearby.
Warm light.
Music playing softly.
Safe.
The kind of safe that hurts to remember later.
Nancy stared silently.
Her mother laughed at something tiny Nancy said—
and the sound nearly destroyed her.
Because she had forgotten parts of it.
The exact softness.
The warmth.
The way love used to sound before grief touched it.
Inside—
Nyra whispered carefully.
The Veil begins with what you miss most.
Nancy's throat tightened painfully.
"I hate this place already."
Reasonable.
Okay.
That was not helping.
Young Nancy looked toward her suddenly.
Directly at her.
Impossible.
And smiled.
"Why are you sad?"
Nancy's breath caught.
Because the child version of herself didn't know yet.
Didn't know what was coming.
Didn't know safety could disappear overnight.
"I'm not sad," Nancy lied softly.
Little Nancy frowned immediately.
"You always lie when you're hurting."
Well.
That was emotionally aggressive.
The memory shifted violently.
The kitchen darkened.
The warmth vanished.
And suddenly—
Nancy stood in another moment entirely.
Hospital lights.
White walls.
Her mother pale in bed.
Weak.
Dying.
Nancy stumbled backward immediately.
"No."
The Veil hummed louder.
Hungry.
"You promised."
The memory-version of Nancy sounded small.
Terrified.
"You promised you wouldn't leave me."
Her mother cried quietly.
Because some promises cannot survive reality.
Nancy's chest constricted so hard she could barely breathe.
Inside—
Nyra's voice sharpened.
Do not lose yourself in it.
But Nancy couldn't move.
Couldn't think.
Because she remembered this.
Remembered the exact feeling of her world splitting apart.
The moment she learned love could leave without wanting to.
Then—
the Veil whispered.
Not Nyra.
Not memory.
Something else.
Cruel.
Ancient.
And it spoke directly into her mind.
Everyone leaves eventually.
Nancy froze.
The voice continued softly:
Your mother.
Your father.
Anyone who tries to love you.
Pain twisted violently through her chest.
Because the worst part?
Part of her believed it.
The Veil sensed that immediately.
The world around her cracked open wider.
More memories spilling free.
Every abandonment.
Every betrayal.
Every moment she felt unwanted.
Nancy dropped to her knees.
Too much.
It was too much.
Inside—
Nyra surged forward suddenly.
Enough.
Power exploded through the darkness.
Silver light ripping across the Veil like lightning.
The whispers recoiled instantly.
Nancy gasped sharply.
"Nyra—"
You are not alone in this memory anymore.
The words wrapped around her like armor.
Steady.
Protective.
And for the first time—
Nancy realized something important.
The Veil wasn't just testing her.
It was trying to convince her she deserved to disappear.
The black water beneath the glass surface began rising slowly around her feet.
Hungry.
Patient.
Then—
a new voice echoed through the Veil.
Familiar.
Desperate.
"Nancy!"
Kai.
Her head snapped upward.
Somewhere impossibly far away—
she could hear him.
Faint.
Broken through layers of reality.
But there.
The Veil darkened instantly.
Threatened.
Because it didn't like that sound.
Didn't like hope entering this place.
And suddenly—
the water surged upward violently.
Grabbing for her ankles.
Trying to drag her under.