While I Live

Olwen Trevelyan struggles to finish the ending of her piano tone poem, a pressure that isolates her from the world. That night she sleepwalks to the edge of a cliff near their Cornwall home, with Julia in pursuit. Olwen awakens at the brink, loses her balance, and falls to the rocks below, leaving Julia laden with guilt that will haunt the years.

Julia withdraws from society and becomes consumed by Olwen's memory. She fills the house with Olwen's work and keep Olwen's legacy as her mission. The obsession refines into a reclusive need to control history and protect what remains of Olwen.

On the first anniversary after Olwen's death, her final composition is broadcast on the radio, earning posthumous recognition. Julia listens, hoping for validation and a lasting place for Olwen in the cultural memory. The annual broadcast begins a ritual that deepens Julia's fixation.

On the 25th anniversary of Olwen's death, Julia hears the broadcast when there is a frantic knock at the Trevelyan door. An unknown young woman enters, goes straight to the piano, and begins playing along with the radio performance. She claims amnesia about her identity and arrival, yet she moves with a familiarity that unsettles Julia.

Julia is struck by the young woman's resemblance to Olwen and by behavioral echoes that seem to echo the deceased sister. She becomes convinced that the woman is Olwen reborn and offers her refuge in the house. The possibility of reincarnation deepens the nightmarish tension around Olwen's memory.

A local faith healer, Nehemiah, arrives to see if he can interpret the phenomenon with his second sight. He speaks of echoed histories and spiritual loops that suggest a repeating pattern. His presence adds a ritual layer to the drama unfolding inside the Trevelyan home.

Over days, the visitor displays musical intuition and a sense of Olwen's inner life that is almost uncanny. Julia clings to the belief that she has found Olwen again, while Nehemiah urges caution about reading supernatural intent into appearance. The atmosphere thickens with the sense that history may be trying to repeat itself.

Memories and secrets fill the house around the piano as the stranger takes on Olwen's mannerisms. Julia becomes protective and controlling, shaping routines around the woman as if arranging a final act of reconstitution. The radio broadcasts continue to weave Olwen's music into the present, heightening the sense of déjà vu.

Both landscape and presence feel drawn toward danger as the cliff edge again looms in the story. The visitor steps toward the precipice, echoing Olwen's fated fate, while Julia watches with a mix of fear and longing. Nehemiah whispers warnings about playing with fate and memory beyond what can be understood.

The climax arrives when the woman stands precariously on the cliff, the exact spot where Olwen died. Julia confronts the possibility that she has conjured Olwen back only to court tragedy. The moment ends in breathless uncertainty as the cliff's edge holds its secret.

Identity remains unresolved: is the visitor Olwen reborn or a stranger who resembles her? Olwen's music continues to be broadcast yearly, ensuring her name outlives the tragedy. The ending leaves memory and guilt hovering between doubt and faith.

Olwen's final composition secures enduring recognition, proving that art can outlive a life. The annual radio broadcasts preserve Olwen's legacy long after the sisters' conflict is forgotten. The timeline closes with a reminder that memory can be powerful yet possibly misunderstood.