Chapter
Chapters
Prologue — “That Night in the Fire”
Chapter One – “A Beautiful Scene”
Chapter Two – “Inheritance of Silence”
Chapter Three – “The Girl in the Photograph”
Chapter Four – “An Unquiet Frame”
Chapter Five – “Absence in Frame”
Chapter Six – “The Man in the Gallery”
Chapter Seven – “We Don’t Name the Dead”
Chapter Eight – “Curated Memories”
Uncatalogued Exhibit: Emeline
Chapter Nine – “The Girl in Glass”
Interlude – “What the Evidence Doesn’t Say”
Chapter Ten – “Negative Space”
Memory Fragment – “A Curator’s Confession”
Chapter Eleven – “Playback”
Interlude – “Blueprints of the Unseen”
Archive Fragment – “The Line Between Us”
Chapter Twelve – “File Not Found”
Interlude – “Officially Missing”
Chapter Thirteen – “West Wing, West Memory”
Chapter Fourteen – “He Who Signed in Silence”
Chapter Fifteen – “The Sketchbook of Her”
The Emeline Dossier
Chapter Sixteen – “The Living Gallery”
Westchester Psychiatric Center
Chapter Seventeen – “The Girl Behind the Glass”
Chapter Eighteen – “Alcestis”
Chapter Nineteen – “The Door Edward Never Meant to Open”
Chapter Twenty – “The Suicide That Wasn’t”
Chapter Twenty-One – “The Wall That Doesn’t Exist”
Chapter Twenty-Two – “I Signed the Walls”
Interlude – “The Missing Line”
Emotional Insert – “The Room of Forgotten Things”
Chapter Twenty-Three – “The Girl in the Drawing”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Emeline
Edward’s Voice Recording
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Interlude — Detective Marlowe
Chapter Twenty-Nine
FLASHBACK: The Winter Blackout
Chapter 30 – The Girl in Red
Chapter 31 – The Echo in the Floorboards
Interlude – Entry Without a Name
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Interlude IV — The Forgotten Room
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Interlude — Before the Gallery
Interlude — What I Buried
Interlude — The Things I Remembered Too Late
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter forty-one
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three- memory loop
Chapter Forty-Four
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Chapter Forty-Two
Detective Marlowe
The Langford house always struck me as the kind of place where secrets were tucked into the woodgrain. Every creak of the floorboards, every antique mirror, every speckless window that seemed too clean to be honest—it all whispered things that no one dared to say aloud.
I sto...
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