She was nineteen. She made the decision to leave home for good, and university was the perfect excuse. She needed to change her surroundings, to learn how to live differently.

  She was still searching for something, because something was always missing in her life, and she wanted to search elsewhere, to go as far away from everything she knew as possible, to look in places she’d never been. But before the day came when she would leave that idyllic little nest behind, she enjoyed the sunshine and the warm summer in that part of the world where peace always seemed to reign. She wanted to savor the cottage, the closeness of Helena and Walery, conversations with Gregory. She also wanted to sort out her finances. The money in the account set up by the Not-a-Doctor had run out. She knew it wasn’t a huge problem, because her financial safety net was still nearby, but she’d been putting it off for as long as she could. She still felt a prick of fear at the thought of returning to the bunker.

  She chose a sunny, warm day. She wore a hoodie with long sleeves, pulled the hood tight, and tucked her pants into her boots. If possible, she wanted to avoid any unpleasant, crawling inhabitants getting under her clothes. Gregory had prepared a small toolbox, a battery-powered lamp, and a canvas bag for anything she decided to bring back. She didn’t want the spirit to accompany her. She preferred to do it alone. She stepped carefully through the half-open door. As a child, she’d never thought about it, but now she couldn’t believe no one had discovered or looted this place yet. She felt like she was entering some kind of ancient tomb. She moved quietly, touching everything she chose to inspect with reverence. When she turned on the lamp, she saw what the darkness had hidden for decades. The room wasn’t nearly as small as it had seemed before. It was just completely filled with suitcases. They were stacked from floor to ceiling. By the looks of it, they were old, some of them dating back to the nineteenth century. Most were rectangular, made of leather, fastened with rusty metal locks. Each was marked somehow, but she didn’t look too closely. She knew who the suitcases belonged to and under what circumstances they had ended up here. She had no idea how she knew, but she just… knew. She didn’t want to use them. She sensed there would be a price. But this time, she couldn’t afford the luxury of choice. She needed money now.

  She opened the first suitcase and looked inside. There were rotting clothes, some photographs, and, hidden behind the lining, gold: a watch, rings, chains, earrings. She took them out carefully, laid them on her palm, and then stared at them in silence. A wave of deep sorrow swept over her. She lifted her head to look into the eyes of a young woman standing in front of her.

  “That belongs to me,” the woman said, standing still, as if fully aware of her own helplessness.

  “I know,” Alice replied, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. “What did they do to you?”

  “They took me to the camp. I died there with my entire family.”

  “Crematorium?”

  “No. Car exhaust. Pipes instead of showers. Then a mass grave.”

  Alice remained silent. What else could she do in a situation like that? On the other hand, she had known all along that the things she would take from here would carry this kind of history. Trunks and suitcases seized during transports to death camps in World War II. She didn’t have these people’s blood on her hands, but no one had given her the right to profit from their tragic deaths.

  “Put it back!” the woman demanded, her eyes full of hatred. “Haven’t you done us enough harm?”

  “I’m not a butcher. I’m not someone who took part in that. I hold no racial or religious prejudices.”

  “You’re just a thief,” the ghost snapped, stepping toward Alice… and passing right through her.

  “And you’re dead. Completely incapable of stopping me,” Alice whispered, gently placing the items back in the suitcase. “But I don’t want to defile your memory. Tell me what I can do for you. Let this gold be my payment.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The ghost remained silent for a long while. It was clear she didn’t trust the girl, but at the same time, she had no better option. After all, Alice could have taken whatever she wanted with no resistance.

  “Send me to the light,” the ghost finally said. “Find my loved ones. Bring them to me. Then send us off. Can you do that, thief?”

  Alice let out a bitter laugh.

  “Yeah… I don’t think that’ll be a huge problem, as long as you can show me a photo of your loved ones. Do you have any? Because I’m guessing…”

  “I do,” the woman snapped, glaring at her. “Side pocket. Yellowed envelope.”

  Alice sighed softly. She didn’t finish her sentence. She also didn’t say that this might not work, since she’d never done anything like that before. She didn’t have to. The woman wouldn’t believe her anyway. She reached into the pocket, pulled out the envelope, and from it a photo.

  Why shouldn’t she try, after all? She looked at the figures in the old photograph, closed her eyes, and recalled all the strange books she had read in her life.

  “I need your help,” she thought.

  In response, a vision appeared in her mind: a winding staircase leading downward. She descended it. Ten steps. At the bottom stood her subconscious, taking the form of a three-year-old child.

  “Hello,” said the little girl.

  Alice handed her the photo in silence. The girl studied it for a moment.

  “You want me to find them and bring them here?”

  “If you can, then yes,” Alice replied, sitting on the ground and leaning against the bottom step.

  “I can… but I haven’t done it in a long time. I’ll need a lot of energy. And… I might make a mistake.”

  “A mistake?” Alice tensed. “Actually, no. Don’t tell me. Just do it. I’d rather not know what might go wrong.”

  The little girl fell silent, studying the photo once more. Alice felt something shift deep inside her. She knew she would never be able to return to her old life. She looked at her subconscious and understood that the girl felt it too. Both of them wanted to say something, to break the silence, but the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, Alice only nodded, just to show she was ready.

  The little girl began the search.

  “I’m looking for traces of energy. I can sense them, but far away. I’m opening a channel. They won’t cross. What should I say?”

  “I don’t know,” Alice groaned.

  “Say nothing,” said a woman whose appearance could not be remembered. She was a part of Alice, the one she had named the supra-conscious. “They’re just energies, weak after all these years of waiting. Just draw them in. I never promised them tenderness, only passage.”

  The little girl nodded and focused harder, squeezing her eyes shut as tightly as she could. Alice had no idea what was actually happening. She just stood there, waiting, watching her subconscious, wondering what would come next. She felt useless.

  “It worked. They’re here.”

  “You can open your eyes now and say goodbye,” the supra-conscious said.

  Alice opened her eyes and saw a family reunited. The souls of people who had died so long ago were smiling again, though still in disbelief. They began asking each other about details from childhood, as if trying to make sure this wasn’t some illusion. Tears welled up in Alice’s eyes. She didn’t want to cry, but how could she not? Her heart wasn’t made of stone, and this was a beautiful sight. There were so few happy endings in this world.

  Once the reunions were over, the spirits turned to her, giving a silent signal that they were ready to step into the beam of light leading to a better world. Alice nodded and closed her eyes again.

  She was exhausted, but that didn’t matter. As soon as her eyelids fell, she once more saw the little girl waiting for instructions, with the supra-conscious woman beside her.

  “They’re ready,” the girl said to the woman, who turned to her and replied:

  “Call the light. Use the knowledge you carry from a past life. Keep it steady until their energy disappears. Don’t open the beam too wide; let them go one at a time. We don’t want to attract unnecessary attention.”

  “Understood.”

  Alice listened, feeling a mix of sadness and frustration. Why didn’t she understand what they were talking about? They were part of her, after all. Shouldn’t she be the one making the decisions? Before more questions could rise, she felt herself being swallowed by darkness. The world around her, both real and imagined, vanished, wrapped in the thick blanket of unconsciousness.

  She woke up on the cold bunker floor. She hadn’t been lying there long, but she was terribly weak. She knew what had happened. Reuniting the family had drained far too much of her life energy. And yet, she felt joy. Her heart swelled with the knowledge that she had helped someone and completed a task so difficult that even most professionals wouldn’t dare attempt it. That was enough for her. Even if now she was weak, frozen, filthy, and had bugs in her hair… she had succeeded. And that was all that mattered.