On the day my brother married Laurel, I was five years old, running wild in the front yard with the other neighborhood kids. By the time I wandered upstairs, a suffocating chill had settled over the second floor. The guests standing in the hallway wore strained, evasive expressions. Inside the bridal suite, Laurel sat wedged into the farthest corner, swallowed whole by a thick comforter, her face completely drained of color. There was no ceremony that afternoon. After we took her home, Laurel locked herself in her room day after day, running the bath over and over until the pipes groaned and her skin turned raw. Ethan stayed by her side through every waking hour, whispering that he didn’t care, that none of it changed how much he loved her. A year later, she told Ethan she was craving warm chestnut pastries from the bakery downtown. The moment he drove away, she climbed into the tub and drowned herself. Ethan couldn’t survive the silence she left behind. He jumped from our apartment balcony. My father’s hair turned stark white in the span of a single night; his health deteriorated shortly after. My mother wept until her eyes were permanently rimmed with red, clutching me to her chest and repeating the same broken refrain: if only she hadn’t left Laurel alone in that room. Then, I blinked. I was five years old again. Up on the second-story balcony, Laurel was leaning out over the sill, the white silk of her robe catching the morning sun, waving down at me with a radiant smile. “Ellie! The guys are almost here for the bridal reveal – do you want to come up and play?” My entire body locked up. A bolt of pure, primal adrenaline tore through my small limbs. I bolted up the porch steps, threw myself up the stairs two at a time, and grabbed the brass handle of the bridal suite with both hands, throwing my weight against the heavy wood. “No! You can’t shut the door! Nobody shuts the door!” … Laurel blinked down at me, startled. Gathering the voluminous hem of her gown in one hand, she crouched down until we were eye to eye, brushing a soft palm against my cheek. “Ellie, sweetie, what’s wrong? Look at you – you’re sweating up a storm.” She gently wiped my damp forehead with her sleeve, her touch familiar, tender, and alive. Looking at her, a dam broke behind my eyes, and hot tears spilled down my cheeks. She was here. She was whole. Her dress wasn’t shredded at the seams. Her veil wasn’t trampled on the rug. And her eyes – her eyes were still bright with hope. In my past life, after today, those eyes looked as though they had been submerged beneath freezing lake water, never to catch the light again. I grabbed her slender fingers, sobbing so hard my small chest heaved. “Laurel… I had a nightmare last night. A really, really bad nightmare.” She pulled me straight into her arms, wrapping me in the sweet scent of jasmine perfume and fresh lace. “Shh, you’re okay. You’re safe,” she murmured, rocking me against her shoulder. “Tell Laurel all about it. What did you see?” I couldn’t say the word “reincarnation”. I couldn’t explain the horrific things that were supposed to happen behind that heavy wooden door. I could only play the part of a terrified child, clinging to the only truth I could speak. “I dreamed the door locked,” I sobbed into the crook of her neck. “I dreamed you were inside, screaming and crying. And Ethan kept banging on the wood, but he couldn’t get in. Laurel, please… I’m so scared.” The easy smile on Laurel’s face slowly faded. Her grip on my hand tightened, her fingertips suddenly turning cold. Just then, a smug chuckle echoed from the top of the stairs. “Well, well, what’s all the commotion about? Why is everyone crowding the doorway?” A tall figure stepped onto the landing. “Ah… it’s Ethan’s little sister. What’s with the waterworks, kiddo? Sad to see your brother give up his bachelor days?” A violent shudder racked my spine. I would recognize that voice in hell. Brett. One of the groomsmen. Ethan and Laurel’s old college classmate. In my past life, after everything fell apart, Laurel refused to speak a single word about what happened behind that door. It wasn’t until years later, when I was digging through a box of Ethan’s old belongings, that I found a hidden wedding photo. In that picture, Brett wasn’t looking at the camera. His gaze was locked onto Laurel – cold, predatory, and venomous. Back then, the men had treated the whole unspeakable violation as nothing more than a “rowdy wedding prank that went a little too far.” A bachelor tradition blown out of proportion. No charges were ever filed. Brett walked away completely unscathed, later striking it rich in real estate, living the glamorous life of an untouchable golden boy. The last time I saw him in my previous life was at Ethan’s grave. He had walked up, kicked my brother’s headstone right in front of me, and sneered at how weak Ethan had been. And now, here he was. A silk boutonnière pinned to his lapel, an envelope stuffed with cash in his fingers, and two burly, unfamiliar men flanking him like bodyguards. I peered over the railing down into the foyer. My brother, Ethan, was still trapped down in the courtyard. A dozen guests had formed a human barricade at the front entrance, waving signboards and laughing, yelling: “The groom has to pass three more trivia rounds before he gets past the front porch!” The real wedding party – Ethan’s true closest friends – were all down there, laughing and playing along. Brett had slipped away and come up to the second floor entirely on his own. I squeezed Laurel’s hand until my knuckles turned white, my voice trembling violently. “Laurel… Ethan is still downstairs. Why are they up here already?” Laurel looked up at Brett, a flash of wariness crossing her gaze. The groomsmen were supposed to escort the groom up together. Brett had no business being here, especially with two strangers Ethan barely knew. Brett’s smile hitched for a fraction of a second before snapping back into place. “Just wanted to scout ahead, make sure the ladies were ready for the big entrance.” I glared at him with pure hatred. He glanced down at me, his eyes glinting with false, patronizing warmth. He took a step forward, knocking his knuckles casually against the doorframe. “Come on, Laurel. If we’re doing the classic door-block routine, you’d better shut and lock the door now. If Ethan walks up and the door’s wide open, where’s the fun in that?” I threw both arms around Laurel’s waist, burying my face in her gown. “No! Don’t shut it! Not until Ethan comes up!” Brett’s smile began to thin. One of the men behind him stepped in, his tone dripping with fake patience. “All right, little girl, be a good kid. Don’t ruin your brother’s big day. Why don’t I take you downstairs to grab some cake?” Laurel immediately pulled me behind her back, her posture stiffening. “That won’t be necessary. Ellie is upset, and I’m keeping her with me. We can skip the door games. Just leave it open.” Brett stared at her, his eyes hardening. “Laurel, it’s a wedding. Don’t be a buzzkill over a kid throwing a tantrum.” Laurel didn’t budge an inch. “She’s my sister. Can’t you see she’s terrified?” A sharp ache hit my throat. In my past life, she had loved and protected me just like this. And I had been entirely useless. At that moment, a woman in a blush-pink bridesmaid dress stepped out from the dressing room. It was Kayla – another college friend of Ethan and Laurel’s. She leaned down toward me, wearing an overly sweet expression. “Ellie, honey, locking the door is just part of the tradition. We lock it, they slide cash envelopes under the crack, we unlock it, and it’s over in two seconds.” I shook my head vigorously. “No! Don’t lock it!” She reached out to grab my arm. “Come on, sweetie, let big sister take you inside to pick up the envelopes.” I recoiled instantly, hiding deeper behind Laurel’s skirts. Laurel frowned, her voice crisp. “Kayla, stop it. Leave her alone.” Kayla held up her hands. “Okay, okay, just trying to help.” But the very next second, while another bridesmaid was bent over adjusting Laurel’s train, Kayla suddenly hooked her arms around my ribs and yanked me hard into the room. My feet left the hardwood floor. Before I could process the sudden shift, she dragged me inside and slammed the door shut. “SLAM.” The noise felt like a physical blow against my chest. Panic seized my throat. I nearly screamed – until I looked through the glass peephole and realized Brett and his friends were still on the outside. They hadn’t made it in. I bit down hard on the tip of my tongue, the sharp burst of copper forcing my frantic brain into focus. “Think. Don’t lose your head.” The door was closed, but the predators were locked outside. As long as we didn’t open it… as long as we stalled until Ethan made it upstairs… we still had a chance. A rustle sounded beneath the door as crisp envelopes were shoved through the gap. Brett’s voice filtered through the wood, slick and teasing. “Bribes delivered, ladies! Collect your cash and open the gates!” The other bridesmaids, assuming this was just the usual harmless fanfare, giggled and bent down to scoop up the money. I sprinted across the rug and clamped both of my small hands over the heavy brass lever, putting my entire body weight onto it. “Don’t open it!” I cried out. “Wait for Ethan! Don’t open the door!” A startled silence fell over the room. One of the younger bridesmaids murmured nervously, “Why is she so freaked out?” Laurel crossed the floor quickly and pulled me into her chest. Crouching down, she whispered, “Ellie… are you truly this afraid of Brett?” I nodded with everything I had. “Yes! Laurel, please… don’t let him in. Don’t let him in here.” Laurel’s expression shifted, the color leaving her cheeks. She looked toward the closed door, her jaw setting firmly. She didn’t give the order to unlock it. But Kayla was already at the door, her hand resting on the latch. “No!” I shrieked, lunging forward. I was too small. Kayla casually turned her shoulder, bumping me out of the way with ease. She clicked the lock and pulled the door open. Brett stood right on the threshold. He cast a cold, irritated glance down at me before immediately masking it with a broad grin. He pushed his way inside, followed instantly by the two large men at his back. The other bridesmaids held out their hands in protest. “Whoa, hold on! Too many people! You’re crowding the room!” Brett shoved a stack of envelopes directly into their palms. “You guys held us up at the entrance. Now it’s our turn. Why don’t you lovely ladies head downstairs to the open bar and grab the real prizes?” One of the girls looked confused. “Downstairs? Now?” Before she could question it, the man behind Brett began bodily herding them toward the hallway. “Yeah, exactly, it’s part of the schedule! Bride stays here for the private reveal, bridal party waits outside for the grand entrance.” The other man grabbed a bridesmaid by the elbow, pulling her out the door. “Come on, let’s go, huge bonuses waiting downstairs!” I lunged forward and grabbed Laurel’s silk skirts. “Don’t let them leave! Laurel, make them stay!” The bridesmaids were being shoved out onto the landing one by one. Brett and his two accomplices had wedged themselves completely into the suite. Brett reached out, gripping the edge of the door, ready to pull it shut behind them. Laurel’s face went rigid. She stood up straight, her voice cutting through the noise like ice. “Stop.” It wasn’t a shout, but the absolute stillness in her tone made Brett pause. He turned around, his fake smile beginning to curdle at the edges. I pulled Laurel toward the threshold. My tiny frame couldn’t physically block them, but as long as I stood directly in the doorframe, they couldn’t latch it shut without forcibly moving me. Laurel understood immediately. Keeping one hand clamped firmly around mine, she braced her other hand against the doorframe. “I don’t want to play this game.” Brett’s jaw tightened. “Laurel, come on. Everyone’s just trying to have a good time.” She looked straight into his eyes. “I said, we’re done.” Out in the hallway, a relative wandering past heard the tension and peeked over. “Everything okay in here?” Brett turned around instantly, flashing a flawless, charming grin. “All good! Just the bride getting pre-wedding jitters. We’re just teasing her!” I leaned out the doorway and screamed at the top of my lungs: “He’s lying! They’re kicking everyone out!” Kayla’s hand shot out, clamping roughly over my mouth. “Ellie, stop making scenes!” I fought back wildly, digging my fingernails into her fingers. Laurel ripped me out of Kayla’s grasp with violent force. “Get your hands off her!” Her voice shook with fury. Kayla recoiled, offering a weak, nervous laugh. “I was just… trying to keep her from disturbing the guests.” Laurel didn’t even look at her. Her gaze snapped back to Brett, her mind working at lightning speed. “The wedding cake is supposed to be arriving right now. Brett, since you’re already up here, do you mind running down to the front gate to help the delivery driver?” Brett narrowed his eyes. “What cake?” “The custom tier with Ethan’s and my initials,” Laurel said without missing a beat. “It’s fragile, and the driveway is packed with cars. I don’t want them dropping it.” Brett didn’t move. He stood there, studying her like a hawk assessing prey. Laurel didn’t flinch. “The sun is beating down outside. If it sits in the heat, the buttercream will melt. It’s heavy – it’ll take all three of you to carry the crate.” Brett glanced toward the stairwell. Down in the courtyard, the raucous cheering was still going strong. Ethan’s voice was buried beneath a wall of laughter. Finally, Brett slapped the remaining envelopes onto the vanity table. “Fine,” he muttered. “We’ll go check.” He motioned for the other two men, and the three of them headed down the stairs. The heavy door remained open. I immediately plant my sneakers right in the center of the threshold, gripping the trim like a vice. The shaken bridesmaids clustered back around the doorway, muttering in outrage. “What the hell is wrong with them?” “He literally shoved me out the door!” “That wasn’t a game. They were trying to clear the room.” Laurel didn’t answer. Her hands were shaking violently as she pulled out her phone. She dialed Ethan’s number. It went straight to voicemail. She opened their text thread, her thumbs flying frantically across the screen: “Ethan, stop the games. Come upstairs right now.” “Something is wrong with Brett.” “They tried to push everyone out and lock me in the room alone.” “I’m terrified. Please, Ethan, come up NOW.” I kept my eyes glued to the courtyard below. Down in the sun, Ethan was surrounded by a crowd of roaring cousins. I saw him reach into his pocket, pull out his phone, and look at the screen. His entire face shifted into pure horror. His head snapped up, searching the second-floor windows. He turned, shoving violently past the crowd toward the stairs. “Whoa, hold on, groom!” an uncle shouted, laughing and grabbing his shoulder. “You haven’t finished the final challenge!” Ethan yelled something, thrashing against the hands holding him back, but the crowd thought he was just playing along with the rowdy bachelor tradition. They tightened their circle, laughing louder. Tears streamed down my face. “Ethan! Ethan, hurry! Come up here!” My small voice was completely swallowed by the party below. And then, heavy, hurried footsteps thudded against the hardwood stairs behind me. It wasn’t Ethan. Brett and his two companions were marching back up, carrying an empty cardboard catering box between them. They moved fast. In seconds, they were back at the threshold. “Laurel,” Brett said, his voice entirely devoid of warmth now. “We got the box.” Laurel pulled me behind her back, positioning herself flush against the doorjamb. “Leave it on the hallway table.” Brett didn’t step back. He stepped directly into her personal space. “Aren’t you going to inspect it, Laurel? After all, you said it was custom.” Laurel glared at him. “I told you to set it down.” Downstairs, another roar of drunken laughter erupted. I looked down. Ethan was completely swarmed by four guys wrapping a decorative red sash around his chest, holding him in place. My stomach plummeted into an icy abyss. Brett heard the noise downstairs, too. The corner of his mouth curved into a sickening sneer. Without warning, he lunged forward, slamming the heavy cardboard box straight into the small circular entry table. The box flipped, and thick white cream exploded across the hardwood floor. The bridesmaids shrieked, jumping back. In the very same second, the man behind Brett twisted the base of a party popper. “BANG!” A deafening pop echoed through the corridor as metallic ribbons and confetti exploded into the air, blanketing the veil, the carpet, and the doorway in blinding chaos. The entire suite devolved into screaming pandemonium. Brett used the confusion to shove his way inside. He grabbed the nearest bridesmaid by the shoulder and threw her roughly into the wall. “Out of the way!” The second man blocked the threshold, violently shoving the remaining women out onto the landing. “Get out! Downstairs, all of you!” A bridesmaid tripped over her heels, hitting the floor hard, her phone skittering across the boards. When she reached for it, the man kicked it away down the hall. “Stop pushing them!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Brett looked down at me, his face twisted in pure disgust. “You are such an annoying little brat.” He reached out, his thick fingers clawing toward Laurel’s arm. Laurel spun around, trying to break for the hallway. I clutched her lace train, trying desperately to run with her. But the floor was slick with crushed cake. Her heel slipped on the greasy cream. She lost her footing, stumbling sideways. Brett seized the opening, his fingers clamping like an iron shackle around her wrist, dragging her backward into the depths of the bridal suite. “Let go of me!” Laurel screamed, her voice cracking with terror. Out in the hall, a bridesmaid recovered her senses and lunged forward to grab Laurel’s other arm. “What the hell are you doing?! Don’t touch the bride!” The burly man slammed his forearm across her chest, shoving her backward with brutal force. Two more women were bodily thrown out onto the landing. The doorway was cleared. I wrapped my arms around Laurel’s waist with every ounce of strength in my five-year-old body. “Laurel, don’t go in! Don’t let them take you!” Brett gritted his teeth. “Get this kid off her!” The second man reached down, his heavy hand clamping onto my small shoulder. Laurel immediately curled her body over mine, shielding me with her own frame. “Don’t you dare touch her!” With a savage, desperate motion, she brought her free hand around and slapped Brett across the face with everything she had. “CRACK.” The room went dead silent. Brett’s head snapped to the side. He stood frozen for a second, then slowly turned his head back. The mask was completely gone now. His eyes were murderous, pitch-black, and feral. With a vicious jerk, he dragged Laurel deep into the suite. The momentum ripped me off my feet; my knees slammed hard onto the floorboards, white-hot pain exploding behind my eyes. But I refused to let go of her hand. Out on the landing, Kayla was the only one left standing near the door. She was trembling from head to toe. Brett shot her a single, piercing glare over his shoulder. Kayla swallowed hard, reached out, and grabbed the brass handle. I scrambled to my knees, clawing toward the threshold. “Don’t shut it! Kayla, don’t shut the door!” “Kayla, stop!” Laurel screamed. Tears poured down Kayla’s face, but her hands didn’t hesitate. She yanked the heavy wood shut. The sounds of the outside world were instantly cut in half. I threw myself toward the wood, but before my fingertips could graze the brass, a heavy hand grabbed my collar from behind, lifting me off the floor. “Click.” The deadbolt turned. The room fell into a terrifying, suffocating silence.
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