Chapter 257: Visitor

I barely slept that night.

The message from the notebook kept returning to my thoughts.

Someone heard it.

I had no idea who that someone was, but considering the number of people who had appeared in our lives recently, I wasn’t particularly eager to find out.

Still, there was something else bothering me.

The bell.

Sol had carried it for years, and apparently, its sound had reached someone who had been waiting much longer than him.

Who?

And why had they been waiting?

I eventually gave up trying to figure it out and went to sleep.

---

The following morning, I found Sol sitting at the dining table with the silver bell beside his cup.

He looked perfectly relaxed.

"Good morning."

He glanced up.

"Morning."

I took the chair opposite him.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Quite well."

"Good."

I looked at the bell.

"Did you hear anything last night?"

His expression changed slightly.

"What do you mean?"

I considered showing him the notebook, but decided against it.

"Nothing. Just wondering."

Sol studied me for a moment.

Then he looked toward the window.

"I heard something."

My attention sharpened.

"What?"

"A bell."

I stared at him.

"The same one?"

He nodded.

"Not the one in my hand."

He touched the silver bell beside his cup.

"It sounded farther away."

I leaned forward.

"Did you recognize it?"

Sol shook his head.

"No."

He paused.

"But I recognized the feeling."

"What feeling?"

"The feeling of someone answering."

Before I could ask anything else, Mother entered the dining room.

She looked between us.

"You’re both awake early."

Sol smiled.

"We were talking."

Mother glanced at the bell.

Her expression became thoughtful.

"Did you ring it?"

"Yesterday."

She nodded slowly.

Then, after a moment, she asked,

"Did you hear anything?"

Sol looked at her.

"You heard it too?"

Mother didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, she pulled out a chair and sat beside him.

"Yes."

Her voice was quiet.

"Someone answered."

I looked between them.

"Wait. Both of you heard it?"

Mother nodded.

Sol picked up the bell.

"Perhaps we should find out who."

I sighed.

Of course.

The one time I wanted a peaceful breakfast, the universe decided to introduce another mystery.

---

Father arrived shortly afterward.

I explained what had happened, including the message from the notebook.

He listened without interrupting.

When I finished, he looked toward the silver bell.

"May I?"

Sol handed it to him.

Father examined the little object carefully.

He turned it over, checked the ribbon, and gently moved the clapper.

Then he placed it on the table.

"This isn’t an ordinary bell."

"That’s obvious," I replied.

Father ignored me.

"It’s connected to something."

"Something that existed before the room?"

He nodded.

"Possibly."

Sol leaned forward.

"Do you know what it calls?"

Father shook his head.

"No."

He looked at Mother.

"But I know what it doesn’t do."

"What?"

"It doesn’t summon."

He tapped the bell lightly.

"It answers."

I frowned.

"What’s the difference?"

"Summoning demands someone’s presence."

Father looked at Sol.

"Answering only acknowledges that someone is there."

Sol considered that.

"So it doesn’t bring anyone here."

"No."

Father returned the bell.

"It tells whoever hears it that they haven’t been forgotten."

The room fell quiet.

I remembered the words in the notebook.

It was meant to tell someone that home still existed.

Perhaps Father had reached the same conclusion.

Then Mother spoke.

"There’s something else."

Everyone looked toward her.

"When Sol first gave me the bell, I remember hearing it ring in an empty room."

Sol frowned.

"You gave it to her?"

I looked at him.

He nodded.

"Before I left."

Mother smiled faintly.

"I thought it was broken. There was nobody around, but it kept ringing whenever I entered the room."

"Did you ever find out why?"

She shook her head.

"No."

Then she looked at Sol.

"Perhaps someone was answering me."

---

We spent most of the morning discussing the bell.

Not that we got particularly far.

Noah suggested checking whether it reacted to different locations.

Lena pointed out that we didn’t even know what we were testing.

Echo suggested ringing it again.

Mother immediately refused.

Apparently, she didn’t want to keep calling someone whose identity we didn’t know.

For once, I agreed with her.

We had no idea who might answer.

And considering our recent experiences, that was reason enough to be cautious.

Eventually, everyone went about their usual activities.

Noah and Echo returned to the kitchen.

Lena went upstairs to finish some work.

Father disappeared into his study.

Mother remained in the garden.

Sol sat beside the window, reading.

For a while, the house was peaceful.

Then the doorbell rang.

I looked up from my phone.

Nobody moved.

A second ring followed.

"I’ll get it."

I stood and walked toward the entrance.

When I opened the door, I found an elderly woman standing outside.

She wore a simple grey dress and carried a small handbag.

Her hair was completely white, and she held a walking stick in one hand.

She looked ordinary.

Almost familiar.

"Good morning," she said.

"Good morning."

She smiled.

"Is Sol here?"

I froze.

"Who are you?"

The woman looked past me toward the hallway.

"I heard the bell."

My expression changed.

She noticed.

"Ah."

"So it worked."

I didn’t move aside.

"Could you tell me your name first?"

She looked at me again.

For several seconds, she seemed to be searching for something in my face.

Then she smiled.

"Margaret."

The name immediately caught my attention.

Margaret.

The woman connected to the old shop.

The woman whose name appeared in the Archive’s records.

I stepped aside.

"Please come in."

---

Sol appeared in the hallway a few moments later.

The moment he saw her, he stopped.

Margaret smiled.

"Hello, Sol."

He stared at her.

Then a small smile appeared on his face.

"Margaret."

She nodded.

"You remember me."

"Of course."

He walked over.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Margaret gently touched his arm.

"You’ve grown."

Sol laughed.

"Not particularly."

"Well, you certainly look older."

"I suppose that’s what happens when you leave for a few centuries."

Margaret chuckled.

"Still making jokes."

I watched them carefully.

They knew each other.

That much was obvious.

But I had no idea how.

"Would you like some tea?" Sol asked.

Margaret nodded.

"That would be lovely."

He guided her into the living room.

I followed them.

By the time we sat down, Mother had already arrived.

She stopped when she saw Margaret.

Her expression changed.

"Margaret?"

The elderly woman looked up.

"Hello."

Mother approached her.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other.

Then Mother smiled.

"It’s been a long time."

"Too long."

They embraced.

I looked between them.

Apparently, this woman knew everyone.

Which was becoming a rather concerning pattern.

---

Once everyone had settled down, Margaret placed her handbag beside the chair.

"I wasn’t sure whether you’d still be here."

Sol smiled.

"I could say the same about you."

She laughed.

"Fair enough."

Mother poured her tea.

"How did you find us?"

Margaret looked toward the silver bell resting on the table.

"I’ve been listening for it."

Sol frowned.

"For how long?"

"Longer than I’d like to admit."

She took a small sip of tea.

"I heard it yesterday."

"Where?"

"In a place that shouldn’t have existed."

I leaned forward.

"What place?"

Margaret looked at me.

"The old shop."

My attention sharpened.

"The stationery shop?"

She nodded.

"I was there when the bell rang."

"Was anyone else with you?"

"No."

She smiled faintly.

"At least, I thought I was alone."

Sol looked at her.

"Did you see someone?"

Margaret nodded.

"A boy."

"What did he look like?"

She thought for a moment.

"Dark hair."

"Quiet."

"About your height."

Sol’s expression changed.

I noticed immediately.

"Do you know him?"

He didn’t answer.

Margaret continued.

"He was standing beside the counter. He looked at me and asked whether I had heard the bell."

"What did you say?"

"I told him I had."

She placed her cup down.

"Then he asked me to deliver something."

"What?"

Margaret reached into her handbag.

She removed a small envelope and placed it on the table.

The paper was old.

The handwriting was familiar.

I recognized it from the letter Sol had given Echo.

Sol stared at it.

His expression became serious.

"Where did he get this?"

Margaret shook her head.

"I don’t know."

She turned the envelope toward him.

"Apparently, it was meant for you."

Sol picked it up.

There was no name written across the front.

Only a single sentence.

For the one who heard the answer.

Sol slowly opened it.

Inside was a small piece of paper.

He unfolded it.

His eyes moved across the words.

Then stopped.

I watched his expression carefully.

"What does it say?"

Sol remained quiet.

Mother leaned forward.

"Sol?"

He finally looked up.

His smile had disappeared.

"It’s from him."

"From whom?"

Sol lowered his eyes toward the letter.

"The person who came looking for me before I left."

The room became silent.

Margaret folded her hands.

"That’s what I thought."

I looked at the paper.

"What’s written?"

Sol hesitated.

Then he read it aloud.

"You’re not the only one who left."

He paused.

"Some of us were never given the chance to return."

Nobody spoke.

Sol continued reading.

"Tell Aeris that the first room wasn’t empty when he left."

My heartbeat quickened.

I looked at him.

"What does that mean?"

Sol turned the paper over.

There was another line.

Written in smaller letters.

Ask him who was waiting outside the door.

The room went completely quiet.

I stared at the sentence.

A strange memory stirred somewhere in the back of my mind.

A room.

A window.

Sunlight.

A boy sitting beside me.

And someone standing outside.

I couldn’t remember the face.

I couldn’t remember the voice.

But I remembered the feeling.

Someone had been waiting.

Not for Sol.

For me.

Margaret looked at my expression.

"Do you remember?"

I shook my head slowly.

"Not yet."

Sol carefully folded the letter.

Then he looked toward the hallway.

"Perhaps it’s time we visited that room again."

I nodded.

But before anyone could answer, the Historian’s Notebook opened on the table.

A single sentence appeared.

The first visitor has returned.

Another line followed.

The second never left.

I stared at the words.

Then slowly looked toward the empty doorway.

For some reason...

I had the uncomfortable feeling that someone was standing just outside it.

Listening.