"Hello, Master… it's an honor to meet you."
Rachel greeted Lucien politely the moment he approached the table.
While she was subtly observing him, Lucien was doing the exact same thing.
Rachel wasn't the kind of woman who stunned people with beauty at first glance. Her looks were above average at best, but what truly stood out was the sharp, professional aura around her. The fitted women's suit, high heels, and carefully done makeup gave her the air of someone highly capable and used to handling pressure.
Still, Lucien noticed something far more important.
Even beneath the layer of foundation, the dark circles under her eyes were impossible to hide.
Her eyes were bloodshot.
Her face carried an exhaustion that had seeped into the bone.
Clearly, she hadn't been sleeping properly for days.
That was often one of the most obvious signs of something supernatural.
The three of them sat down.
Rachel forced a polite smile.
"Time was a little tight, so I could only arrange to meet here at the coffee shop."
Lucien gave a slight nod.
"I'm less interested in formalities."
His gaze sharpened.
"I want to know exactly what happened."
As soon as he finished speaking, the waiter arrived with their drinks.
"Your espresso, mocha, and cappuccino. Please enjoy."
"Thank you."
Rachel immediately reached for the espresso.
Then, instead of sipping it—
She drank it in one go.
Jamie blinked.
Even Lucien paused for a moment.
Espresso was normally something people savored slowly because of its bitterness and concentrated flavor.
But Rachel drank it like water.
No hesitation.
No reaction.
Just desperation.
After wiping the corner of her lips, she took a slow breath and began.
"Actually… the person who hired you isn't me."
Her voice lowered.
"It's the actress I work for."
She hesitated for a second before continuing.
"Anne Hathaway."
Even though Lucien had already guessed that the client was likely someone from the entertainment industry, hearing that specific name still surprised him slightly.
Anne Hathaway was already a rising star in Hollywood.
She had entered the industry young, built a strong reputation through both looks and talent, and was quickly becoming one of the most recognized young actresses in the business.
Which meant—
Something powerful had attached itself to someone constantly under public attention.
That was dangerous.
Rachel continued, glancing toward the set outside the café window.
"She's filming nearby right now, but…"
Before she could finish, angry shouting from outside drifted into the café.
The filming was clearly not going smoothly.
Rachel let out a bitter smile.
Lucien leaned back slightly.
"Tell me everything."
Rachel nodded.
"Alright."
As she spoke, the entire situation gradually began to take shape.
After Anne's career began rising rapidly, everything had initially gone smoothly. Scripts kept coming in, directors liked her, and the momentum of her career was excellent.
Then everything changed.
It started shortly after she joined the current film project.
Her sleep began deteriorating.
At first, it was just restless nights.
Then frequent awakenings.
Soon, she was sleeping less than six hours.
Then less.
And less.
Eventually, after countless nights of exhaustion, Anne finally broke down and confided in Rachel.
That was when the truth came out.
She had been having the same nightmare.
Every single night.
In the dream, Anne stood barefoot in the middle of an empty town street, still dressed in her pajamas.
The street was silent.
No people.
No cars.
No sound.
Only a damp coldness that seemed to crawl against the skin.
And then—
A shadow.
Something twisted and unnatural slowly approached from behind her.
Each night, it came closer.
Closer.
Closer.
In the dream, Anne couldn't move.
She could only tremble as the shadow stretched across the ground, slowly swallowing her.
At first, Rachel had assumed it was simply stress.
A nightmare caused by pressure and overwork.
She comforted Anne and even arranged for a psychologist.
But things only became worse.
Much worse.
Rachel's hands tightened around the coffee cup.
"One night…"
Her voice trembled.
"I had the same dream."
Jamie's expression changed.
"You too?"
Rachel nodded slowly.
"Yes."
Her face had already gone pale.
"We could even see each other inside the dream."
Lucien's eyes narrowed.
That was no ordinary nightmare.
Shared dream manifestation.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Rachel continued.
"We were standing together on the same dark street."
Her voice shook.
"Hand in hand."
"Like lambs waiting to be slaughtered."
Lucien interrupted softly.
"You said that out loud in the dream, didn't you?"
Rachel looked startled.
Then nodded.
"Yes."
Lucien exhaled slowly.
"No wonder it latched onto you."
The moment he focused his spiritual sight on her again, the darkness around Rachel became even clearer.
A black aura.
Dense.
Sticky.
Like smoke clinging to flesh.
It was similar to what Jamie once carried under Mary Shaw's curse.
But this—
This was far worse.
Jamie noticed Lucien's expression.
"It's really that serious?"
Lucien gave a slow nod.
Rachel gave a bitter laugh.
"At this point, serious doesn't even begin to describe it."
She lowered her head.
"At first, we told ourselves it was just a nightmare."
Her fingers trembled.
"But then…"
Her breathing became uneven.
"The shadow reached us."
Silence fell over the table.
Rachel's voice dropped to almost a whisper.
"It stood behind us."
"I could feel its breath on the back of my neck."
Her entire body visibly shivered.
"And it was laughing."
Jamie felt a chill run down his spine.
Rachel continued.
"For some reason, that night we could suddenly move."
"So we ran."
"We ran as fast as we could."
Her voice cracked.
"But Anne tripped at a corner."
Lucien's expression turned colder.
"And the thing caught up."
Rachel shut her eyes tightly.
"Luckily the crew woke us up."
She swallowed hard.
"But when Anne woke up…"
Rachel's face turned completely pale.
"She had a wound on her knee."
Jamie's breathing slowed.
The horror of those words settled in fully.
The injury had transferred from the dream.
Which meant—
The dream was real.
Or at least real enough to harm the body.
No wonder Rachel was drinking coffee nonstop.
She wasn't staying awake for energy.
She was staying awake out of terror.
Because sleep meant going back.
Going back to that street.
Back to that thing.
Lucien frowned.
"Do you remember what it looked like?"
Rachel slowly shook her head.
"No."
"After that, did you stop sleeping?"
Jamie asked.
Rachel hesitated.
Then gave the most terrifying answer possible.
"No."
Her voice shook violently.
"We did sleep."
She looked up.
"But we forgot."
Jamie stared.
"Forgot?"
Rachel nodded, tears gathering in her eyes.
"The memories of the dreams are fading."
"Every time we wake up, it becomes harder to remember."
Her grip on the cup tightened.
"The only reason I know we slept at all…"
Slowly, she rolled back the sleeve of her suit.
Bandages wrapped around her arm.
Blood had already seeped through the white gauze.
Jamie's face changed instantly.
Rachel's voice broke.
"If it weren't for the new wounds on my body…"
Her eyes trembled.
"I wouldn't even know when I fell asleep."
Silence.
Heavy.
Oppressive.
The fear in the café became almost tangible.
Her memories were disappearing.
But the injuries remained.
Which made it even worse.
Unknown fear was always more terrifying than known danger.
Rachel finally failed to hold back the tears.
Her voice trembled helplessly.
"We…"
She looked at Lucien.
"…have nowhere left to run."