The footsteps stopped.

Nora couldn’t see anything.

She could only hear the breathing of the people around her.

Her father.

The little girl.

And someone else.

Something moved through the darkness.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Nora reached for her father’s hand.

He grabbed hers immediately.

“Don’t move,” he whispered.

A television flickered on.

Then another.

Then another.

Within seconds, every screen in the basement was glowing.

But none showed the same image.

One screen showed Nora as a child.

Another showed Daniel.

Another showed her mother.

Another showed a room Nora had never seen.

Then the largest screen displayed a countdown.

03:17

Nora stared.

“What does that mean?”

Her father didn’t answer.

The little girl smiled.

“It means morning.”

Nora looked at her.

“Morning?”

The girl nodded.

“This house doesn’t have one.”

The countdown changed.

03:16

Her father pulled Nora toward the stairs.

“We have to leave.”

Nora stopped.

“Daniel is still inside.”

“He’s not.”

“You heard him.”

“No.”

Nora stared at him.

“What do you mean?”

Her father looked toward Room 17.

“That wasn’t Daniel.”

A cold feeling spread through her chest.

“Then who was it?”

Her father whispered:

“The house.”

The little girl laughed.

“Dad always says that.”

Nora turned toward her.

“Why does she call you Dad?”

The girl looked confused.

“Because he is.”

Nora stared at her father.

He looked exhausted.

“She isn’t supposed to be here.”

The girl tilted her head.

“You left me here.”

Nora’s father closed his eyes.

“Don’t listen to her.”

Nora stepped toward the child.

“What happened to you?”

The girl smiled.

“You don’t remember?”

“No.”

“You promised.”

“What did I promise?”

The girl pointed toward the ceiling.

“You promised you’d never tell anyone.”

Nora felt a sharp pain behind her eyes.

A memory flashed.

A dark hallway.

Her mother crying.

Her father shouting.

Daniel hiding beneath a table.

And Nora standing beside the little girl.

The memory disappeared.

Nora grabbed her head.

Her father rushed toward her.

“What did you see?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t know!”

The little girl laughed.

“You remember now.”

Nora turned toward her.

“Who are you?”

The child walked closer.

“I told you.”

“You’re me.”

The girl nodded.

“But not the Nora you remember.”

The lights flickered.

The countdown continued.

02:41

Her father looked at the screens.

“We’re running out of time.”

Nora stared at him.

“Tell me the truth.”

“I am.”

“No.”

She stepped closer.

“You’ve been lying since I came down here.”

Her father’s face changed.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

He looked toward Room 17.

“Your mother discovered the Memory Room when you were six.”

Nora listened.

“She believed it could preserve people after death.”

“Was she right?”

“Yes.”

“Then why was she afraid?”

“Because it didn’t preserve only the dead.”

Nora’s heart tightened.

“What else?”

“Memories.”

“Whose?”

“Everyone who entered the house.”

Nora looked around.

“So the house remembers us.”

“Yes.”

“Then why did I forget?”

Her father looked at the little girl.

“Because I made you forget.”

Nora stared at him.

“You?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you saw something you shouldn’t have.”

“What?”

He hesitated.

“You saw your mother die.”

Nora’s world seemed to stop.

“My mother died when I was eight.”

“No.”

He shook his head.

“She died when you were six.”

Nora stepped backward.

“That isn’t true.”

“I watched it happen.”

“No.”

“Daniel watched it too.”

“No!”

“Your mother discovered that the Memory Room wasn’t preserving people.”

Her father lowered his voice.

“It was copying them.”

Nora stared.

“What is the difference?”

“The original person dies.”

He looked at the little girl.

“The copy stays.”

Nora’s eyes moved toward the child.

The girl smiled.

“You’re the copy.”

Nora’s breathing became uneven.

“What?”

Her father looked at her.

“The Nora who entered this house at six died.”

Nora shook her head.

“No.”

“I created a memory copy.”

“No.”

“You’ve been living outside this house for fourteen years.”

“No!”

“You aren’t the original Nora.”

Nora screamed.

The televisions all switched off.

Silence.

Then the little girl walked toward her.

“You finally remember.”

Nora stared at her.

“If I’m not the original…”

The girl reached for her hand.

“…then who am I?”

The girl smiled.

“You’re the second Nora.”

Nora pulled away.

Her father grabbed her shoulders.

“Listen to me.”

She pushed him away.

“You made me?”

“I saved you.”

“You lied to me!”

“I had to.”

“You let me live believing my mother was dead!”

“She was.”

“You let me believe Daniel was my brother!”

“He is.”

“Then why can’t I remember him?”

Her father became silent.

Nora realized something.

“Where is Daniel?”

He looked away.

“Dad.”

No answer.

“Where is my brother?”

The little girl answered.

“He’s inside.”

“Inside where?”

“Room 17.”

Nora turned toward the metal door.

“Is he alive?”

Her father whispered:

“Not anymore.”

Nora’s heart broke.

The little girl smiled.

“But his memory is.”

Nora walked toward Room 17.

Her father grabbed her arm.

“Don’t.”

“I have to.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain.”

He looked terrified.

“If you open that door, you’ll see everything.”

“Good.”

“You’ll see why your mother died.”

“Good.”

“You’ll see why Daniel came back.”

“Good.”

“And you’ll see what you did.”

Nora stopped.

“What I did?”

Her father nodded.

“You were the one who opened the Memory Room the first time.”

The little girl smiled.

“She always was.”

Nora stared at the door.

The countdown reached:

01:17

She placed her hand on the metal.

It was warm.

Almost alive.

A whisper came from the other side.

“Nora.”

This time she knew the voice.

Daniel.

Her real brother.

“Please.”

She closed her eyes.

“I knew you’d come.”

The lock clicked.

Her father shouted:

“NORA, DON’T!”

She opened the door.

A blinding white light filled the basement.

Then she saw it.

Thousands of memories floating in the darkness.

Her mother.

Her father.

Daniel.

Herself.

But there was one memory in the center.

A memory she had never seen.

Nora walked toward it.

Inside was a room.

A little girl sat on the floor.

Six-year-old Nora.

Beside her was Daniel.

And behind them stood their mother.

Her mother was holding a knife.

Blood covered her dress.

But she wasn’t attacking them.

She was protecting them.

From someone standing behind the children.

A man.

A man Nora recognized.

Her father.

Except he was younger.

And he was holding a machine.

Her mother screamed:

“Don’t turn it on!”

He pressed a button.

White light exploded.

The memory ended.

Nora stumbled backward.

Her father stood behind her.

His face was empty.

“You finally saw it.”

Nora turned slowly.

“You killed her.”

He didn’t deny it.

“I saved the experiment.”

“You killed Mom.”

“I saved you.”

“You killed Daniel.”

“I preserved him.”

“You destroyed our family.”

“I created something better.”

Nora stared at him.

“What?”

He pointed toward the little girl.

The child was smiling.

“Her.”

Nora looked at the child.

Then the child spoke.

“I know what happened next.”

The countdown reached:

00:03

Nora looked at the screen.

“What’s going to happen?”

Her father whispered:

“Morning.”

00:02

The house began shaking.

00:01

Every door in the basement opened simultaneously.

Hundreds of voices screamed.

Then—

00:00

Silence.

A pale light entered through the basement ceiling.

Nora looked upward.

For the first time in fourteen years…

sunlight touched the house.

But instead of warming the room, it made every memory around them scream.

The little girl grabbed Nora’s hand.

Her smile disappeared.

“Run.”

Nora looked at her.

“Why?”

The girl pointed behind Nora.

Her father was gone.

In his place stood something wearing his face.

Something tall.

Something impossibly thin.

Its eyes were completely black.

And it smiled.

The creature whispered:

“Thank you for opening the door.”

Nora froze.

The little girl pulled her backward.

“That’s not Dad.”

The creature stepped forward.

“He never was.”

The house began changing around them.

Walls stretched.

Doors multiplied.

The floor became endless.

And somewhere above them, a clock began ticking.

3:17.

Nora looked at the little girl.

“Who is that?”

The child whispered:

“The first memory.”

The creature smiled.

“And now…”

Its voice became her mother’s voice.

“…I remember you.”

The lights exploded.

And Nora disappeared.