They turned another corner, and Ariel blinked, struggling to adjust to the growing dimness. The oil lamps had been extinguished, and the diminishing number of windows left them in increasing shadows. Each new hallway seemed to swallow more light. Ariel brushed a section of her bangs from her forehead; the humidity was oppressive and seemed to cling to her skin.

"It's kinda stuffy in here," Leroy remarked, rubbing the back of his neck as if to soothe the growing discomfort.

Ariel nodded, her gaze fixed on the walls as she anticipated the moment she would spot the cluster of pictures. We must be close...

Perhaps it was the stagnant air, the eerie silence surrounding them, or the lack of sleep Ariel had endured the night before, but suddenly, as if by magic, moonlight spilled across the hall floor. The fleeting sliver of light was soon replaced by the familiar blankness of the wooden floor. A warm hand touched her shoulder.

"Ariel?"

She shook her head, forcing a light smile for the monk who watched her with a hint of concern. "Sorry—it’s nothing..."

They continued forward, and with each step, her waking dream seemed to follow, guiding her deeper into the shadows. They passed an open door, revealing a room transformed into a nightscape where objects were swallowed by shadows. As soon as Ariel paused, the scene reverted to its normal state.

Ariel quickened her pace, her previous experiences of the night resurfacing as if urging her onward. "We must be nearly there. I don’t remember it taking us this long last time," Leroy said, swiping his brow as the oppressive heat continued to build.

Feeling equally uncomfortable in the suffocating warmth, Ariel gathered her hair into a makeshift ponytail, holding it away from her neck. "We must be," she agreed, her eyes scanning the wall ahead with renewed focus.

Out of the gloom, a frame emerged, followed by another. Photographs, each framed in ornate designs, stretched down the wall. The mix of black-and-white and color images held countless eyes, each pair seemingly following Ariel with an inquisitive gaze. One frame, however, stood out—it was conspicuously devoid of eyes. Ariel found herself drawn to that blank spot.

Among the framed collection, Miss Marlowe’s tarnished frame completed the familial triangle. Leroy stood behind Ariel, his eyes scanning the black letters on the plate that read "Rebecca."

"Not Becca," Ariel thought, her fingers brushing the cool metal.

After a moment, she turned to Leroy, pushing aside the troubling image of Mr. Marlowe. "Yes, it just dropped to the floor..."

"And there was another name behind it?" Leroy prodded, squinting at the name plate as if trying to decipher its secrets.

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Ariel nodded, letting her hand fall to her side. "Becca..."

Leroy straightened up, his curiosity piqued. "Well, let’s see what this frame is hiding."

Purposefully, Leroy moved around Ariel, grasping the name plate firmly. Ariel stepped back, her heartbeat suddenly thunderous in her ears. Her eyes were glued to the golden plate, now poised to reveal its secrets. The tense moment stretched interminably, each second dragging into the next. Ariel blinked.

"Leroy, do you need some help?"

The monk released the name plate and stepped back, frustration evident. "I don’t know what it is; no matter how hard I pull, it won’t budge."

Ariel bit her lip and approached, gripping the sharp corners of the plate. She tugged sharply but met the same resistance. Leroy watched her, his head tilted thoughtfully. "Maybe... there isn’t another one here after all?"

Ariel paused, brushing her damp bangs out of her eyes before pulling again. "The dream felt so real, Leroy..."

The monk nodded. "Okay, maybe it was a message? Maybe we should start investigating this name Becca? Maybe..."

Ariel’s eyes fixed on the name printed in black across the gold plate. "Maybe Miss Marlowe knows something?"

Turning to face Leroy, Ariel’s eyes sparkled with realization. Leroy’s expression mirrored her excitement, the thrill of uncovering a long-sought answer evident on his face. "That’s it, Ariel. You were led to Miss Marlowe’s frame because she’s the one you need to ask."

Ariel released the name plate, the puzzle piece falling into place. The dream had been a message from Mr. Marlowe—his daughter must have the answers. Yet, a lingering uncertainty gnawed at her.

A hand patted her shoulder reassuringly. "Good work. Now we’re getting somewhere."

Ariel looked up at the monk, his grin infectious, and managed a smile in return. "Right, it’s a start."

"Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m absolutely miserable back here. Let’s return to base," Leroy suggested, tugging at his shirt to prevent it from sticking to his sweaty skin.

Ariel exhaled, her bangs barely shifting from their damp position on her forehead. "Let’s go," she agreed, casting one last glance at the name plate that had stubbornly withheld its secrets.

A strange sting filled Ariel’s eyes as she turned away. Quickly, before Leroy could see, she wiped away the tears that had unexpectedly welled up. Blinking at her wet hands, she felt a surge of confusion and alarm. What was happening? A fleeting memory of the original dream, the man, and the tears resurfaced in her mind.

Ariel covered her face with her hands, hoping to compose herself before the monk, who was walking a few steps ahead, noticed her distress.

This can’t be happening again!

Flustered, Ariel rubbed her stinging, tear-filled eyes, struggling to make out the hall floor. Suddenly, her throat was gripped by a searing burn. Leroy let out a cough.

"Ariel? What’s—" His question was interrupted by another violent coughing fit.

Ariel succumbed to the burning sensation in her lungs and joined him. The distorted shape of the monk turned toward her, concern evident.

"Do you smell that?"

Ariel nodded vigorously, leaning against the wall for support as her vision dimmed to mere shadows and merging colors. "Smoke."

The acrid smell choked her, growing stronger with each passing moment.

"The theater must be on fire—we need to get out of here," Leroy said, glancing up the hall where the smoke had crept past them, filling their only exit with a suffocating gray haze.

Wiping sweat and tears from his eyes, the monk reached for Ariel’s hand but felt another's firm grip yank him sharply away.

Ariel pressed her back against the wall, clutching her collar to aid her breathing. The smoke, now enveloping the hall, made her throat burn and her eyes tear like never before. Her vision was reduced to a murky snow globe of dim, gray shapes and shifting shadows.