Chapter 4: The Promise He Couldn't Remember
“Marcus, you promised you'd bring them back.””
The voice came from the master bedroom.
It sounded exactly like Denise.
The real Denise stood beside Marcus, gripping his hand so tightly that her fingernails pressed into his skin.
“Don't answer it,” she whispered.
Marcus couldn't move.
He was staring at the staircase, trying to understand why the voice upstairs sounded so familiar.
Not just familiar.
It sounded like a memory.
A memory he had spent six years trying not to think about.
Jordan stepped closer to his father.
“Dad, we need to get out of here.””
Marcus nodded slowly.
“Everybody stay together.””
But Maya wasn't moving.
She stood near the kitchen entrance, staring at the dark hallway.
“Mom?””
Denise turned immediately.
“I'm right here, baby.””
Maya pointed toward the stairs.
“Why is somebody wearing your slippers?””
Denise looked down.
Her feet were bare.
A faint shuffling sound came from upstairs.
Then a pair of footsteps appeared on the staircase.
Slow.
Measured.
One step at a time.
Marcus moved in front of his family.
“Who's there?””
The footsteps stopped.
A woman's silhouette appeared at the top of the stairs.
She wore a pale blue robe.
Denise's robe.
Her hair was tied in the same loose bun.
Even the small gold bracelet around her wrist looked identical.
Jordan backed into the kitchen counter.
“Mom?””
The woman tilted her head.
“Jordan, sweetheart?””
Denise's face went white.
“That's not me.””
The woman smiled.
“Why are you all standing downstairs?””
Her voice was warm.
Almost annoyed.
Like a mother calling her children to breakfast.
“Come on. It's late.””
Marcus raised his phone.
“Stay where you are.””
The woman looked directly at him.
“Marcus?””
“Who are you?””
She blinked.
Then her smile disappeared.
“You know who I am.””
Denise stepped forward.
“Get away from my children.””
The woman slowly descended one step.
“Your children?””
She looked toward Maya.
Then Jordan.
“Those aren't the children I remember.””
Maya began sobbing.
Jordan reached for her hand.
“Don't listen to her.””
The woman sighed.
“Jordan, why are you wearing that jacket?””
Jordan looked down at his green varsity jacket.
“What?””
“You always wore the blue one.””
Jordan's expression changed.
He had owned a blue jacket when he was eleven.
Before the fire.
Before the family moved into this house.
He hadn't thought about it in years.
The woman continued.
“And Maya...””
Maya hid behind her brother.
“What?””
“You were supposed to be asleep.””
Denise shouted.
“Stop talking to them!””
The woman finally looked at Denise.
For the first time, her expression became cold.
“You shouldn't have brought them here.””
Marcus stepped forward.
“Enough. Tell me what you want.””
The woman looked at him for several seconds.
Then she smiled again.
“I want you to remember.””
The hallway light flickered.
A low electrical hum spread through the house.
Marcus felt something tighten behind his eyes.
Suddenly, he smelled smoke.
Not the faint smell of burning dust from an old heater.
Real smoke.
Thick, bitter, choking smoke.
He blinked.
The staircase disappeared.
For a moment, he was standing somewhere else.
A narrow hallway.
Orange light.
A little boy crying.
A little girl coughing.
And Denise screaming his name.
“Marcus!””
He stumbled backward.
The living room returned.
Jordan caught his arm.
“Dad! What's wrong?””
Marcus gasped.
“I saw something.””
Denise held his face.
“What did you see?””
“Fire.””
Her expression changed.
“What?””
“The night we moved here. I remembered the fire.””
Denise slowly shook her head.
“No. Don't.””
Marcus looked at her.
“Why?””
“Because you don't remember it correctly.””
The woman on the stairs began laughing softly.
Denise turned toward her.
“Shut up!””
The laughter stopped.
Marcus looked between them.
“Denise, what aren't you telling me?””
His wife lowered her eyes.
For six years, she had avoided talking about that night.
Whenever Marcus mentioned the apartment fire, she changed the subject.
Whenever the children asked why they had moved, she explained that the old neighborhood wasn't safe.
But now, standing in front of that impossible woman, she seemed unable to hide behind those explanations anymore.
Denise took a shaky breath.
“Marcus, the fire wasn't in the neighboring apartment.””
He stared at her.
“What?””
“It started in our building.””
Jordan looked up.
“What are you talking about?””
Denise's eyes filled with tears.
“We were home. All four of us.””
Marcus shook his head.
“No. I remember carrying Jordan outside.””
“You carried him downstairs.””
“And you carried Maya.””
Denise nodded.
“Yes.””
“Then we went to the hotel.””
“No.””
Marcus stepped backward.
“What do you mean, no?””
Denise looked at the staircase.
“We never made it to the hotel.””
The woman upstairs stopped smiling.
For the first time, she looked frightened.
Denise continued.
“The smoke reached the second floor. You went back inside because you thought Maya was still upstairs.””
Marcus stared at her.
“I found her.””
Denise shook her head.
“You found something.””
Jordan looked horrified.
“Mom, stop.””
Denise turned to her son.
“I don't know how to explain it.””
“Then don't!””
Marcus gripped his head.
Images flashed through his mind.
A burning staircase.
A door that wouldn't open.
Small hands pounding against wood.
A little girl calling for her father.
Then another memory.
A woman's voice.
Not Denise's.
A voice whispering:
You can have them back.
Marcus gasped.
He looked at the woman upstairs.
“Who are you?””
She slowly lowered her head.
“I kept my promise.””
“What promise?””
Her face changed.
The skin around her mouth stretched into a smile that didn't belong to Denise.
“You asked me to bring your family home.””
Marcus felt his legs weaken.
Denise grabbed his arm.
“Marcus, don't listen!””
The woman lifted one hand.
Behind her, the bedroom door opened wider.
A small figure appeared in the darkness.
A little boy.
Maybe six years old.
He wore a blue jacket.
Jordan stared at him.
“That's...””
His voice broke.
“That's me.””
The little boy looked down the stairs.
“Dad?””
Jordan began crying.
Marcus stared at the child.
The little boy raised his hand.
“Why did you leave me?””
Then the upstairs light exploded.
Glass scattered across the hallway.
The woman disappeared.
The little boy was gone.
And in the darkness, Marcus heard a whisper directly beside his ear.
“Tomorrow, you must bring the children upstairs.””
He spun around.
Nobody stood behind him.
But the kitchen clock had stopped.
Its hands were pointing to 9:43.
The exact time the fire had started six years earlier.
Then Marcus's phone rang.
An unknown number.
He answered without thinking.
A man's voice came through.
“Mr. Reed?””
Marcus swallowed.
“Who is this?””
“This is Officer Daniels. We received a call from your address.””
Marcus looked at the front door.
“That's impossible.””
The officer paused.
“Sir, we've been trying to reach you for six years.””
Marcus's blood ran cold.
“What?””
The officer continued.
“Your house was reported as abandoned after the fire. We need you to explain why four people are currently showing up on our security cameras.””
Marcus looked toward his family.
Then he looked at the phone.
The officer spoke again.
“Mr. Reed, listen carefully. Whatever you do, don't let anyone upstairs.””
A pause.
Then:
“Especially the little girl.””
Marcus turned toward Maya.
And saw that she was no longer standing beside Jordan.
She was at the bottom of the staircase.
May you like
Looking up.
As if someone had just called her.
