The aroma of sizzling Mexican food filled the apartment as Veronica Lodge stirred a pan of seasoned ground beef. Reggie Mantle chopped fresh cilantro beside her, humming faintly as he worked. They were both trying to keep the atmosphere light, but the weight of the previous days' revelations hung over them.
Veronica's phone buzzed on the counter, the screen lighting up with an unknown number. She exchanged a glance with Reggie. "It's probably Oliver," she said, wiping her hands on a towel before answering. "Hello?"
"Miss Lodge? This is Oliver D'Ambrosio," a young man's voice greeted her. It was calm but tinged with sorrow.
"Yes, Oliver," Veronica replied, putting the call on speaker. "Reggie and I are here. We've been waiting to hear from you."
"Thank you for taking my call," Oliver said, his voice slightly cracking. "I wanted to share what I know about my mother, Diana, and the… events tied to that apartment."
"We're listening," Reggie said, leaning closer to the phone.
Oliver took a deep breath before continuing. "My mother, Diana, had a bitter, nasty divorce with my father, Marcello. He was a horrible man—abusive, manipulative. When the divorce was finalized, my mom and I moved into that apartment to start over. She just wanted to escape him."
Veronica could hear the pain in his voice. "That must have been so hard."
"It was," Oliver admitted. "She worked hard to rebuild her life, and for a while, things were peaceful. But a year later, everything fell apart. One night, Marcello showed up at the apartment uninvited. He was angry, drunk, and out of control. He… he scared her. He attacked her."
Reggie clenched his fists. "What happened next?"
"He dragged her across the apartment, yelling about money—always money. He wanted more from her, even though she had already given him everything in the divorce. And then…" Oliver's voice broke, and there was a long pause before he continued. "He shot her. Three times. I was hiding in the closet, terrified, trying to call the police."
Veronica covered her mouth, her eyes wide. "Oh my god, Oliver. That's awful."
"The reason he killed her was simple: greed," Oliver said bitterly. "He couldn't stand that she was finally free of him. He wanted to ruin her even after the divorce. The next day, the police identified Marcello as the suspect, but before they could arrest him, he returned to the apartment and shot himself."
The line was silent for a moment, the weight of Oliver's words sinking in. Veronica's voice was soft when she asked, "Oliver, I'm so sorry for what you went through. But… why is there an urn with your mother's ashes still in the apartment?"
"That's something I can't explain," Oliver admitted. "I didn't leave it there. Maybe it was placed by someone else after I moved out."
"And the silver locket?" Veronica pressed. "There's blood on it. Was it yours?"
"Yes," Oliver replied. "I used it to try to communicate with her. I thought if I left something personal, something tied to me, she might reach out. The blood… it was my attempt at connecting with her spirit."
Veronica and Reggie exchanged a look, their stomachs churning. "Oliver," Reggie said, "thank you for telling us. This changes everything."
After ending the call, they immediately messaged their group chat, sharing Oliver's revelations. The responses came quickly.
Betty: That poor kid. That's horrible.
Jughead: This explains the heavy energy in the apartment. She's stuck there because of what happened.
Cheryl: This is giving Criminal Minds meets The Haunting of Hill House.
Kevin: Seriously. It's so tragic.
Tabitha: What are you guys going to do now?
Veronica sighed as she typed, We need to figure out how to help her move on.
Later that night, after finishing dinner and cleaning up, they prepared for bed. The apartment was unusually quiet, but the air felt heavier than usual. Veronica lay awake, her mind racing. After tossing and turning, she finally got up to take her medication. She padded into the kitchen, the faint glow of the stove light illuminating the counter.
As she opened the cabinet for a glass, she froze. Her office door, which she'd left closed, creaked open slowly. Veronica stared at it, her pulse quickening. "Hello?" she called out softly, but there was no response.
Curiosity overcame her fear, and she approached the office cautiously. The room was empty, but something felt… wrong. Her eyes were drawn to her desk, where the stack of photos she and Reggie had taken during their investigation lay. She flipped through them and gasped.
The photos were faded—completely drained of color and clarity. The orbs, the lights, even the apparition in the bathroom were barely visible now, as if they were being erased.
"This is impossible," Veronica whispered, her voice shaking.
She felt a presence behind her and turned toward the office bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, and through the crack, she saw it—a full-bodied apparition of Diana D'Ambrosio, her face twisted in terror, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Veronica screamed and bolted from the office, slamming the door behind her. She nearly collided with Reggie, who had come rushing out of their bedroom.
"What happened?" Reggie asked, grabbing her shoulders.
"She's in there," Veronica stammered. "Diana. I saw her. She looked terrified."
Reggie's expression darkened, and he led her back to the bedroom. They locked the door behind them and contacted their friends again, recounting the chilling encounter. As the messages poured in, offering advice and support, Veronica couldn't shake the image of Diana's haunted face. She knew they had to help her, no matter what it took.