Saint-Rémy

The plane rumbled softly beneath them, cutting a smooth line through the night sky over the Atlantic. Jessica sat by the window, the glass cool against her temple as she watched the faint glow of distant cities far below. The drone of the engines filled the cabin, a low hum that left room for too many thoughts.

Leanna was asleep across the aisle, arms crossed, chin tucked low, her breathing slow and even. Olivia had her headphones in, pretending to read but barely turning the pages.

Jessica, however, couldn’t shut her mind off. The memories had been stirring ever since she left Mexico. There were flickers of places she had never seen and faces she had never met, but somehow knew. There was a name, one she thought she recognized, but couldn’t quite grasp.

She exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over her eyes. She needed clarity. But clarity meant remembering, and she still wasn’t sure she wanted to.

* * *

Somewhere over the ocean, she drifted into a restless half-sleep. And in the space between dreaming and waking, she saw it. There was a monastery, carved from pale stone, perched against the edge of a cliff. The sea stretched wide and endless beyond it, dark waves crashing violently below. The wind howled through the hollow corridors, carrying whispers in a language she didn’t know, but somehow understood.

She moved through the stone halls, candlelight flickering along the damp walls, illuminating carved reliefs of Templar knights. She wasn’t alone. A man walked beside her, clad in dark robes, his voice steady as he spoke.

“You cannot reveal it until the appointed time.”

Jessica felt her own voice respond, but it was not her. It was someone else. Someone who had lived this before.

“And if the time never comes?” she heard herself ask.

The man’s face was lost in shadow, but his words carried weight.

“Then it dies with you.”

Jessica’s breath hitched. The candle flames flickered, and she woke up with a sharp inhale.

* * *

Paris was a blur.

They had an hour before their connecting flight to Avignon, just enough time for stale coffee and stiff muscles from the long haul.

Jessica sat at the edge of the waiting area, staring at the espresso in front of her, letting the world move around her.

Leanna and Olivia were talking near the boarding gate, Olivia gesturing as she explained something, Leanna’s expression skeptical but engaged.

Jessica should have joined them. But she was still caught in the echoes of the dream. It hadn’t felt like a hallucination. It felt like a memory surfacing from somewhere deep, breaking through the layers she had buried it under.

She pulled out her notebook, flipping it open to a blank page. Then, without thinking, she wrote the words:

Saint-Rémy.

She stared at it. The name had come to her without effort, without conscious thought. She flipped through her notes, scanning old documents, searching for any connection to it.

She found it. A reference in the old Templar records. A monastery. Abandoned. Lost to history. Jessica’s pulse quickened. Not Avignon. Saint-Rémy.

Her fingers tightened around the notebook. Something was waiting for her there, and now, for the first time, she knew exactly where to look.