The Tower Reversed: Back to 18 (Venus) novel Chapter 5

**One Step Changes Everything**
**By Ruby Parker**
**Chapter 5: Trapped by Spirits**

Venus watched as Drake distanced himself from her, his figure growing smaller against the backdrop of the crumbling cottage. With a calm demeanor, she warned, “That broken door’s about to fall. If you don’t want to bleed, you’d better move back to my side.” Her voice held a steady tone, but inside, she felt a flicker of amusement at his stubbornness.

Drake turned his gaze toward the door that hung precariously on its hinges. It appeared weathered by time, but not so fragile that it would collapse at the slightest breeze—at least, that’s what he thought.

Suddenly, with a deafening bang, the door gave way, crashing down and landing squarely on his back.

Venus couldn’t help but smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she watched him struggle beneath the weight of the door, refusing to lend a hand.

As Drake finally managed to push the door off, a sharp splinter dug into his palm, drawing blood. He stared at the crimson droplets that welled up, then shot her a cold, piercing look, a storm of emotions swirling within him.

Is she cursed or something? The thought nagged at him, unsettling and irrational.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape, Rowan Hill arrived, following the coordinates Drake had sent earlier.

The moment he stepped out of his car, he spotted Drake perched on the steps of the cottage, a plainly dressed girl beside him.

“Well, well, Mr. Frost—didn’t you swear off women? And here you are, sitting shoulder to shoulder with one,” Rowan teased, a playful grin spreading across his face.

Drake shot his best friend a glare that could freeze fire. The moment he stood, darkness swirled in his vision, and he stumbled slightly, fighting to maintain his balance.

From beside him, he heard a soft click of the tongue, faint yet mocking, as if Venus were laughing at his moment of weakness.

“You brat!” he started, anger flaring within him like a flame.

But when he glanced down, he found Venus completely uninterested in him, her focus elsewhere.

“Wow, this tastes amazing,” she murmured, her eyes lighting up with delight. “I’ll get more later.”

Drake’s words caught in his throat, swallowed by the unexpected turn of events.

He climbed into the car, his expression dark as a stormy night.

Rowan leaned toward Venus, his grin widening. “Hey, pretty girl, want a ride?”

Before she could respond, Drake interjected sharply, “Drive.”

“Come on, don’t be so cold,” Rowan replied, feigning a pitiful look. “It’s dangerous leaving a girl alone out here in the woods.”

Drake scoffed inwardly, his thoughts racing.

A girl who eats offerings meant for the dead? The spirits would be the ones terrified of her, not the other way around.

Under Drake’s icy glare, Rowan finally relented. “Sigh. Alright, alright,” he said, starting the engine. “Hey, girl, we’ll get going. It’s getting dark. You should leave the mountain soon.”

Venus smiled sweetly, a hint of something mysterious in her eyes. “You’ll be back.”

Neither of the boys grasped the weight of her words—not until thirty minutes later. What should have been a swift drive down the hill morphed into an hour-long ordeal, the same dark road stretching endlessly before them.

Rowan glanced nervously at the oppressive darkness surrounding them. A chill crept up his spine. “Dude, this is creepy. Don’t tell me we’re stuck in some kind of spirit trap.”

Drake’s sharp features were hidden beneath a veneer of frost, his expression as cold as the night air.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts. The world doesn’t work that way,” he replied curtly, dismissing the notion with a wave of his hand.

Rowan groaned in frustration. “Yeah, I know you don’t believe in that stuff, but seriously, doesn’t this feel like one of those stories where people drive in circles forever? I swear I didn’t take a wrong turn!”

Drake frowned, his mind racing back to what Venus had said earlier.

“Turn around,” he commanded, his voice firm. “Go back.”

They retraced their path, the headlights slicing through the thick fog. Then, out of nowhere, the beam illuminated a figure ahead—Venus. She stood in the darkness, calmly gesturing in the air, seemingly conversing with something invisible.

Rowan felt a wave of panic wash over him. “Why do I feel like she’s the scariest one here? Who is she even talking to?”

Venus had just inquired of the wandering spirits nearby, learning that the cottage had been abandoned for years. No one had set foot there. No one named Skylor had ever come.

After politely thanking the spirits, she gathered the gifts they had left for her and strolled toward the car.

“Mr. Hill, mind giving me a ride?” she asked, her voice smooth and inviting.

Rowan grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “We’re colleagues. No need to thank me. But if you really want to repay me, cover my shift on the 18th.”

What? The 18th!

Neil shot Venus an angry look, frustration brewing within him. He had plans for that day—plans now ruined because of her.

What a troublemaker.

“Get out of the car,” he said coldly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Venus climbed out and began to walk away from the mansion, the weight of her thoughts heavy on her shoulders.

Rowan, concerned for his friend, warned Neil out of kindness. “Your sister seems off.”

“Why do you say that?” Neil asked, his frown deepening.

Rowan pointed at the bag Venus carried. “When I found her out in the wilderness, she was eating food left for the dead.”

He said it as a joke, trying to lighten the mood. “Are your parents starving her? Is that why she has to eat those?”

Neil’s expression darkened immediately, his thoughts racing. He didn’t respond, instead striding after Venus.

“Venus, stop.”

Neil grabbed the plastic bag, pulling too hard, and it tore, the contents spilling across the ground.

The items were unmistakably grave offerings, and Neil’s expression shifted, memories of the past crashing over him like a tidal wave. “Did we treat you so poorly that we drove you to steal food from graves?” he snapped, his voice filled with hurt and anger.

“You’ve shamed me as your brother!” he continued, his voice rising. “A daughter from a rich family is actually stealing food from the dead. If this gets out, everyone in Zrebert will laugh at us.”

“You never change,” he added, scolding her as if she were a child. “Of all things to steal—food for the dead—”

Suddenly, with a swift motion, Venus slapped him hard across the face, her fury igniting in an instant.