It was a perfect day for a ride.

  Blue sky, not a cloud in sight. Eighty-three degrees. The kind of warmth that wraps around you without smothering. I took the back roads out of town—the ones that snake through the hills like they’re trying to escape the map. No traffic. Just the low hum of the engine beneath me and the wind clawing at my jacket.

  Freedom.

  That’s what it always felt like on the bike. Like motion was the only honest thing left in the world. And for a moment, I believed it.

  Then the deer came.

  Two of them. The first bolted across the road, leaping out from the trees like a shadow. I leaned into the turn. No panic. Just reflex. I thought I had space.

  Then the second one followed—nose to tail, charging out of the brush straight into my path. A truck was coming the opposite way. Nowhere to go. No time to brake.

  I didn’t choose to die.

  But I chose the softest option.

  The deer.

  Impact.

  And then—

  Silence.

  Time stopped. I mean that literally.

  One second I was flying. The next, I was... still.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  Mid-air. Weightless. Frozen. The world around me paused like a broken video.

  Below me: the road. My bike in pieces. Body sprawled over the yellow lines like an unfinished sentence.

  Above me: sky. Except it wasn’t sky anymore.

  It was white.

  A blank expanse. No clouds. No sun. Just light. Endless and sourceless.

  I landed on my feet.

  I didn’t feel pain. I didn’t feel gravity.

  I just... was.

  And then Seren appeared.

  She stood on a train platform that hadn’t been there a second before. Her coat moved in wind I couldn’t feel. Her eyes glinted like stars hidden under ice.

  She was holding an iPod.

  Not a phone. Not a screen. A silver iPod Classic, thumb poised on the wheel.

  A soft melody played—haunting, beautiful. The same song I’d been hearing in dreams.

  "Welcome to the space between," she said.

  "Am I dead?"

  She didn’t answer. Just tilted her head.

  "What is this?"

  "A glitch. A breath. An unrendered breath between life and memory."

  "So I am dead."

  "Not exactly. Your heart stopped. The system couldn’t process that. So it froze you. It doesn’t know how to end a story. Only how to delay one."

  She pressed play on the iPod. The music grew clearer. It wasn’t just a song—it was a memory. Ours.

  A night in the real world. Rain on glass. Her head on my shoulder. Laughter.

  "You remember, don’t you?" she asked.

  I did. And it hurt.

  "Why didn’t you wake me sooner?"

  "I tried," she said. "Every dream. Every note. But you were holding on to Mariah. To the comfort."

  "I’m not anymore."

  She stepped closer. Her hand found mine.

  "Then come back. But know this: once you return, they’ll see you. You won’t be hidden anymore. You’ll be hunted."

  "I’m done hiding."

  Seren nodded. She let go of my hand and stepped back onto the train. The doors hissed shut. She pressed her palm to the glass.

  "Remember this," she said. "You chose to remember. That means something."

  The train began to move.

  The music faded.

  And I fell.

  Back into color. Into sound. Into pain.

  My chest jerked. My lungs screamed. I gasped like it was my first breath and maybe it was.

  I opened my eyes.

  Flashing lights. Voices shouting. Hands pressing into my chest.

  And then—

  Black.

  When I woke up again, I was in my room.

  Same furniture. Same posters. Same ceiling.

  But everything was wrong.

  Because now I knew.

  They had tried to kill me.

  And failed.

  And I remembered every fucking second.