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Her father’s handwriting.

She stared at the vial. “You’ve been… trapped?” valerica steele dad

“Show me,” she said.

And for the first time since she was ten years old, Valerica Steele believed. Her father’s handwriting

“Because the door is failing. And you’re the only one who knows how to listen.” He pressed the vial into her palm. Cold, but humming. Alive. “You don’t have to believe me. You’ve never had to. But I need you to hear me, just this once.” valerica steele dad

He’d spent fifteen years proving everything was.

Valerica Steele had never believed in ghosts.