— Ghostly Reunion —
Even after reading her great-grandfather's esoteric texts, Luna still felt a cold dread seeping into her bones at the sight of an actual ghost. Her breath tightened.
I kept my tone gentle. "The painting contains a malevolent artifact that amplifies spiritual energy. Bella has been attached to it, which is why she can manifest."
"Bella...?" Jasper's voice was choked. He stepped forward as if to embrace her, but stopped just short, trembling. "Yesterday... what I said... I'm sorry."
Bella watched his clumsy, earnest apology and smiled softly. "It's all right. If I suddenly saw you as a ghost, I'd probably run too. It's instinct. I don't blame you."
She was still the gentle girl she'd been in life—perhaps even more clear-eyed now.
Jasper could hold back no longer. He pulled her into a fierce hug, his voice tight with conviction. "I don't care if you're human or ghost. I love you, and I'll protect you. If anyone tries to hurt you, I'll fight them with everything I have."
Bella gently disentangled herself and tapped his forehead. "Silly. I'm a ghost now. The only ones who could 'hurt' me are other ghosts. What are you going to do—kill a ghost?"
"Then... then I'll learn how! I'll study with Rhan! Once I know how, let's see who dares touch you!" His deadly serious foolishness made Bella laugh again.
But when her laughter faded, her gaze shifted to Luna.
The moment their eyes met, Luna staggered back as if struck, her face bone-white. "Don't... don't blame me... Please..."
"Bella, let me deal with her!" Jasper's whole body tensed with rage, like a cornered animal.
Bella gently held him back. "This is between us."
She moved toward Luna, who trembled, legs giving way. "Don't come closer... please..."
What happened next stunned everyone.
Bella bowed deeply to her.
The air in the room froze.
"Bella! Have you lost your mind? Bowing to her?!" Jasper nearly shouted.
Bella straightened, her eyes clear. "Thank you... for bringing that painting to me. Because of it, this past month... I was truly free for the first time. No more 'perfect daughter,' no more expectations. I finally... got to be myself."
Each word fell like a hammer on Luna's heart.
"You never needed to envy me," Bella said softly. "My life was never my own. You thought I shone, but I... I envied your freedom. The freedom to be messy, to be selfish. You thought you were chasing me, but it was me who wanted to be you."
Luna stood frozen, her eyes welling up.
Bella continued, voice gentle. "You know what I missed most? The little girl from before kindergarten—the one who followed me everywhere, calling me 'Luna's big sister.'"
Her smile was tender, edged with a deep, quiet sorrow.
"Even when I came to resent you later... that resentment was the only kind that ever felt warm. So... thank you. You gave me the happiest memories I have."
"I..." Luna's voice broke completely.
Bella sighed softly. "I'm sorry. I never knew my birth cost you your luck, your place in the family... If I'd known, I would have given it back. But now... I can't."
She looked up, her apology like faint light after rain—gentle, yet piercing.
"Luna, I don't ask for your forgiveness. I just hope you won't let hatred guide you anymore. It's... too heavy a burden to carry."
With that, she turned, fragile as mist about to scatter.
"Bella!" Luna cried out, tears flooding down. "I'm sorry! I regretted it the moment I took the painting to the graveyard! I didn't want to hurt you, I just... I was so jealous, so unfair! I knew you weren't happy, I knew you were tired, I just... I just..."
She wept until her chest ached, repeating, "It was me... all my fault..."
Bella turned back and walked to her. She reached out and gently wiped Luna's tears away.
"It wasn't your fault. Truly," she whispered.
"If not for you, I would have left this world with only regret."
Luna broke, collapsing into Bella's arms.
Bella stiffened—then slowly returned the embrace.
One living.
One dead.
Years of guilt met unspoken resentment—
and, in that quiet moment, both began to loosen.
They had been each other's wound.
And, perhaps, each other's release.
---
— The Century-Old Seal —
Seeing the tension between them finally ease, I steered the conversation back to the matter at hand.
"All right, Luna," I began, choosing my words carefully. "We came to find Kai—or rather, to find you—to learn more about the painting's origins."
Luna took a steadying breath, wiping her eyes. "Sir... I don't know much. I found the case in my great-grandfather's study when I sneaked in. When I opened it, some yellow talismans and a red cord came loose. My father used to say our ancestors were practitioners of the mystical arts."
A lineage of occultists. That explained a great deal.
"A century ago, my great-grandfather was a renowned exorcist," she continued. "During a major suppression ritual, he was gravely injured. Though he succeeded in sealing away something... dark, he withdrew from the practice afterward. He forbade any descendant from learning the arts. Our family... we just became ordinary people after that."
I nodded, a thread of respect weaving through my thoughts. "To keep the artifact contained, he severed your family's legacy, allowing generations to live as ordinary guardians of the seal... That is a profound sacrifice."
"You mean... what he sealed was the Portrait of Aya the Healer ?" Luna's voice trembled.
"Precisely," I confirmed. "That painting has been suppressed by your family for a hundred years. Now, the seal is weakening."
Luna paled. "What can we do? Sir... can you contain it again? This is my fault... If I hadn't disturbed the case..."
All eyes turned to me.
I drew a slow breath. The truth was, I had no certain method. Her great-grandfather had bound it using a century-spanning familial pact. For me to reseal it now... the cost would not be small.
"May I see the texts your great-grandfather left behind?" I asked. "There might be a way to reinforce the seal."
After a moment's hesitation, Luna nodded. "Yes."
---
— When the Painting Claims Again —
No sooner had Luna agreed than Jasper's phone rang—sharp, insistent.
He answered.
The color drained from his face.
"What? ...Dead? Liam? In my office? Kneeling in front of the painting?"
A pause.
Then, tight and hollow: "I'm coming."
"Wait." I took the phone and checked the time—10:00 p.m.
If it could claim a soul this late, its recovery was accelerating far beyond expectation.
My voice cut in, firm and urgent.
"Lock down the room. No one goes near the painting. Evacuate everyone—now."
The call ended.
A chill climbed my spine.
Liam was only the beginning.
"Move," I said, already on my feet. "Tonight isn't over."
---
In the car, Jasper shook his head, trying to make sense of it.
"Liam hated art. He could barely read. Why him?"
"It doesn't choose," I said. "One glance is enough.
If Bella hadn't intervened, that would've been you."
Silence pressed in.
From the back seat, Kai muttered, unusually subdued,
"So... liking the painting doesn't make me a creep, right?"
Jasper didn't look at him.
"No. Just an idiot."
Kai sank into his seat.
I ran through sealing methods in my mind, discarding most of them.
Against something like this, there were no shortcuts—only resolve.
Then Selene spoke, softly.
"Ryan... if Liam was taken, does that make three hundred and sixty-four?"
I nodded.
"One left. Every soul feeds it. A century of suppression turned resentment into hunger."
I met their eyes.
"If the seal has weakened this far... it may awaken completely tonight."
No one spoke after that.