Elena did not sleep.

She sat in her grandmother’s living room with every light turned on, while the storm beat against the windows.

Jonah sat across from her.

Neither of them had spoken for almost ten minutes.

The only sound was the ticking of an old clock.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Finally Elena broke the silence.

“You knew.”

Jonah looked at her.

“Knew what?”

“You knew something was in the lake.”

He looked toward the window.

“Yes.”

“And you knew about my sister.”

“I knew Clara disappeared.”

“You knew more than that.”

Jonah sighed.

“Yes.”

Elena leaned forward.

“Then tell me everything.”

Jonah remained silent.

“Please.”

He looked at her for a long moment.

Then he said:

“Seven years ago, I saw Clara walk into the lake.”

Elena’s heart stopped.

“What?”

“I was sixteen.”

“You were there?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I did.”

“No one ever mentioned you.”

“Because I didn’t tell them what I really saw.”

Elena stared at him.

“What did you see?”

Jonah’s hands tightened around his mug.

“Clara wasn’t alone.”

“Who was with her?”

“The woman.”

Elena remembered the photograph.

The pale woman standing behind them.

“Who is she?”

Jonah shook his head.

“Nobody knows.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I have.”

Elena stood.

“I need to see the lake.”

Jonah immediately stood too.

“No.”

“My sister could still be alive.”

“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t go.”

“Why?”

“Because if Clara is still alive…”

He stopped.

“What?”

Jonah looked frightened.

“She isn’t the same person who disappeared.”

---

At sunrise, the rain stopped.

Blackwater Lake was perfectly calm again.

Elena stood at the shore with Jonah.

In daylight, the place looked almost beautiful.

Mist floated above the water.

Birds moved through the trees.

The mountains reflected on the surface.

Nothing seemed dangerous.

But Elena knew better.

“Where did Clara disappear?”

Jonah pointed.

“Over there.”

A small wooden pier stretched into the lake.

Elena walked toward it.

Halfway down the pier, she noticed something carved into the wood.

A name.

CLARA MOORE

She touched the letters.

“They carved her name here?”

“No.”

Jonah shook his head.

“It wasn’t there yesterday.”

Elena turned.

“What?”

Jonah stared at the carving.

His face had gone pale.

“It wasn’t there yesterday.”

Elena looked back.

The letters seemed darker now.

Wet.

Almost fresh.

Then another name appeared beneath Clara’s.

The wood cracked.

Slowly.

A new letter formed.

E

Elena stepped backward.

“Jonah…”

He grabbed her hand.

“Get off the pier.”

The carving continued.

EL

The wood groaned.

ELE

Jonah pulled her away.

They ran toward the shore.

Behind them, the pier creaked violently.

Then everything stopped.

Elena turned.

The names were gone.

Only one remained.

CLARA.

---

That afternoon, Elena went to the village church.

An old priest was waiting inside.

Father Elias.

He was nearly eighty years old.

His face was thin.

His eyes were tired.

When Elena entered, he immediately said:

“You should not have come back.”

She stopped.

“Everyone keeps saying that.”

“Because everyone knows what happens to people who return.”

Elena sat down.

“Do you know my sister?”

Father Elias looked at her.

“I knew Clara.”

“What happened to her?”

He walked toward an old cabinet.

From inside, he removed a thick black book.

“This contains the names of everyone who disappeared from Blackwater.”

He placed it on the table.

Elena opened it.

Names filled hundreds of pages.

Dates.

Ages.

Sometimes a short description.

Some were from decades ago.

Others were more than a century old.

She turned the pages.

Then stopped.

CLARA MOORE — AGE 19 — 2019

Beneath her name was something strange.

There was no date of death.

Only one word.

RETURNED.

Elena looked up.

“What does this mean?”

Father Elias didn’t answer.

“What does returned mean?”

He finally said:

“Some people don’t die in the lake.”

“Then where do they go?”

“They come back.”

“Like Clara?”

“Yes.”

Elena’s heart raced.

“Where is she?”

Father Elias looked toward the window.

“The question is not where she is.”

“Then what is the question?”

“Whether she is still human.”

Elena stood.

“My sister is human.”

“I hope you’re right.”

She slammed the book shut.

“You’re hiding something.”

Father Elias looked at her.

“Yes.”

“What?”

He opened the book to a page near the back.

There was an old drawing.

A woman standing in the middle of a lake.

Her hair covered her face.

Her arms stretched toward the sky.

Around her were dozens of people.

All standing beneath the water.

Father Elias whispered:

“They call her the Drowned Mother.”

Elena stared.

“What is she?”

“Nobody knows.”

“Then why do you call her mother?”

“Because she collects children.”

Elena’s stomach tightened.

“Children?”

“Not only children.”

He turned another page.

“The lake takes people. Sometimes it keeps them. Sometimes it sends them back.”

“What happens when they return?”

“They bring something with them.”

“What?”

Father Elias looked directly into Elena’s eyes.

“The lake.”

---

That night, Elena stayed awake again.

Jonah had warned her not to go outside after dark.

She tried to listen.

At 11:30 p.m., she was sitting on the sofa when she heard something.

Tap.

She looked at the window.

Nothing.

Another sound.

Tap.

She walked closer.

A wet handprint appeared on the glass.

Elena stepped backward.

Another handprint appeared.

Then another.

Someone was standing outside.

Elena’s heart pounded.

She slowly moved toward the door.

A shadow stood on the porch.

Long hair.

Thin body.

White clothes.

Elena whispered:

“Clara?”

The figure raised its head.

Elena opened the door.

The porch was empty.

Only wet footprints remained.

They led toward the backyard.

Elena followed them.

They stopped beside an old well.

She looked down.

Darkness.

Then she heard a voice.

“Elena.”

She froze.

“Clara?”

The voice came from inside the well.

“Please.”

Elena stepped closer.

“Clara?”

“I’m cold.”

Tears filled Elena’s eyes.

“I’m coming.”

She reached for the rope.

Then another voice whispered behind her.

“Don’t.”

Elena turned.

Jonah stood at the garden gate.

His face was terrified.

“Move away from the well.”

“But Clara is inside.”

“No.”

“She is!”

Jonah shook his head.

“Listen carefully.”

The voice from the well called again.

“Elena…”

Jonah covered her mouth.

“Don’t answer.”

The voice changed.

It became deeper.

Older.

Angrier.

“ELENA.”

The ground beneath the well cracked.

A horrible smell rose from the darkness.

Rotten flowers.

Mud.

Something dead.

Jonah pulled Elena away.

They ran into the house.

He locked the door.

Then the windows.

Then every curtain.

Elena was crying.

“That was Clara.”

Jonah shook his head.

“No.”

“How can you know?”

“Because Clara never called me.”

“What?”

Jonah stared at her.

“She knew my name.”

Elena went silent.

“What do you mean?”

“She called me Jonah.”

“And?”

“The thing in the well called you Elena.”

He swallowed.

“But it didn’t know my name.”

Elena looked toward the dark window.

“What does that mean?”

Jonah whispered:

“It doesn’t know who we are.”

“Then how did it know my name?”

He looked at her.

“Someone told it.”

---

At exactly midnight, every clock in the house stopped.

The silence was unbearable.

Then the old telephone rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Elena stared at it.

The phone had been disconnected for years.

Jonah whispered:

“Don’t answer.”

It rang again.

Elena picked it up.

“Hello?”

Static.

Then breathing.

A woman’s voice.

Very faint.

“E-Elena?”

She froze.

“Clara?”

The voice whispered:

“I’m sorry.”

Elena’s heart broke.

“Where are you?”

“Under…”

Static swallowed the word.

“Under what?”

“Under the water.”

“Clara, I’ll find you.”

“No.”

“Why?”

The voice began crying.

“Because she will find you first.”

“Who?”

Silence.

Then Clara whispered:

“The woman who wears my face.”

The line went dead.

Elena slowly lowered the phone.

Jonah stared at her.

“What did she say?”

Before Elena could answer, something knocked on the front door.

Three slow knocks.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Then a girl’s voice came from outside.

“Please let me in.”

Elena’s blood turned cold.

It was Clara’s voice.

Jonah shook his head.

“No.”

The voice came again.

“I’m cold.”

Elena covered her mouth.

“It’s her.”

Jonah whispered:

“Don’t open the door.”

The knocking stopped.

Silence.

Then a wet handprint appeared on the inside of the front door.

Not outside.

Inside.

Elena stared at it.

Jonah slowly stepped backward.

Another handprint appeared.

Then another.

They were moving down the door.

As if someone invisible was climbing toward them.

A whisper came from the hallway.

“She’s already inside.”

Elena turned.

At the end of the hallway stood a girl.

Long dark hair.

White clothes.

Water dripping from her hands.

Elena couldn’t breathe.

“Clara?”

The girl lifted her head.

Her face was hidden beneath her hair.

Then she smiled.

A voice came from behind Elena.

“Don’t look at her face.”

Jonah’s voice trembled.

“Why?”

“Because if you see her face…”

The girl slowly moved her hair aside.

Elena saw the face.

It was Clara.

But her eyes were completely black.

And she whispered:

“Then you’ll never leave the lake.”

The lights went out.

A scream echoed through the house.

And somewhere beneath the floor…

Something began knocking from underneath.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Three times.

Then a fourth.

Knock.

Jonah whispered:

“There are two of them.”

Elena stared into the darkness.

“What?”

Jonah’s voice broke.

“One is standing in front of us.”

He looked toward the floor.

“And the other is underneath us.”

END OF CHAPTER 2