The Echoes of the rain.

Chapter:7 The fragments of forgotten.

The bookstore had never felt this quiet.

"Why did you wait for me?"

The voice wasn't loud—but it echoed, vibrating through Ruelle's fingertips, curling around her heart like a memory she didn't own.

She blinked, her breath caught. But before she could respond—if one could even speak to a whisper from a book—Enna's voice sliced through the moment.

"Ruelle! Eivan's here!"

The book fell shut in her hands. She placed it back on the shelf mechanically, her fingers trembling for just a second too long.

Eivan stepped inside with his usual warmth, a light smile on his face. "Hey, Ruelle."

She tried to return the smile, but her mind was far away, still standing in that heavy silence with a book that spoke. Enna and Eivan chatted, teased each other, even nudged her into the conversation—but she was floating somewhere else.

She didn't understand why…

But something was pulling at her chest. A strange ache. Like she'd been waiting her whole life for something she couldn't name.

"I… I think I'll go home early," she said suddenly, cutting into the moment. Enna blinked. Eivan raised a brow.

"You okay?" Enna asked, concern lacing her voice.

"Yeah. Just… tired." She grabbed her bag, not waiting for more questions.

---

That night...

Ruelle sat in her dimly lit room, staring at the ceiling, but her mind was back with that book.

She didn't remember her past life, not clearly. But there were hints—feelings she couldn't explain, dreams she had forgotten by morning, and now… the book.

She had to know the truth.

Later that night...

Rain tapped softly on her window. She finally drifted into sleep.

The dream came slowly, like fog rolling over her thoughts.

She stood in the center of the bookstore, but it was older… quieter… filled with shadows. The shelves rose like towers. And in the middle stood a silhouette — tall, still, holding the book against his chest.

She couldn't see his face. But his presence felt both familiar and haunting.

Then he whispered again:

"Why did you wait for me?"

The pages of the book opened, and paper flew out like feathers, spiraling around her.

They twisted into the shape of a clock—its hands frozen at 3:17 AM.

Blood dripped from somewhere above, falling onto a single floating page.

It landed softly in her palm. A word inked in deep, red strokes burned into the parchment:

"Ash."

Her eyes flew open.

The room was silent, the only sound the rain.

But her heart raced like she had just run miles—and that name echoed in her mind.

Ash.

She didn't know why she cried Ash in her dream,

But something inside her did.

Ruelle murmuring,

I think I had to bring out the book

To be continued...