Chapter 1 – The Girl in the Mirror

The girl staring back at her wasn't her.

She looked close—same sharp cheekbones, same shadow under the left eye, same scar at the base of the throat—but something was off. Not in her face, but in the way she held herself. Stiff. Unsure. Like someone trying to imitate a memory they didn't have.

Elira blinked. The mirror blinked back.

This time, she was in a shared dorm room. Two beds. One neatly made, the other messy with clothes. Posters of a pop idol on one wall. A cracked phone charging on the floor.

Her ID sat on the nightstand:

"ARIA LANE. Age: 22. Student ID: WCU-113452."

She touched her reflection's cheek again, gently.

"Aria," she whispered. The name sounded foreign in her mouth. Not just unfamiliar—wrong.

She had seven days to live this life.

The door creaked open. A redhead peeked in—wide-eyed, freckled, and smiling. "Aria, you're up! You missed econ again. You good?"

Elira froze. Say something. Anything.

"Uh... yeah. Just a weird dream."

"More like a coma. I tried waking you, but you were out cold. Like, seriously dead-weight. I thought I'd have to call 911."

The girl laughed, but her tone held something else. Worry. Suspicion. A hint of fear.

Elira faked a smile. "Guess I needed the sleep."

"Christine's downstairs, by the way. Said she was coming to pick you up?" The girl raised an eyebrow. "You two made up?"

Elira blinked. "We fought?"

The girl tilted her head. "You really okay?"

"I'm just... off today. I'll be down in a sec."

Once the door shut, Elira turned back to the mirror. The reflection stayed still a second too long before copying her movement. Her breath caught.

Focus. You don't have time to fall apart.

She dressed quickly—defaulting to black jeans and a plain hoodie, guessing that "Aria" wasn't the glam type. Her phone had no fingerprint lock, just a swipe pass. No messages. One contact pinned: Kael.

She tapped it.

[Message Unsent]

"If you're reading this, it means you've reset again."

"Meet me where we first met. Before they do."

No location. No timestamp. Just that.

Before she could reread it, a knock.

Christine.

She opened the door to a familiar face—one that made her gut twist.

Soft brown eyes, kind smile, perfectly casual in a gray sweater. Christine looked exactly like someone you'd trust with your whole life.

And that's what made Elira feel sick.

"Hey," Christine said gently, holding out a coffee. "You look... better. Wasn't sure you'd even be able to stand after last night."

Elira took the cup. "What happened last night?"

Christine's eyes flickered. Just a fraction. "You don't remember?"

Elira shook her head.

Christine stepped closer, her smile never slipping. "You drank too much. Got weird. Said things you didn't mean. But hey, it's over now."

Liar.

Elira didn't know how she knew, but she knew.

Christine placed a hand on her shoulder. "Come on. I'll drive you to class."

They walked to a sleek black car parked across the dorm gates. Christine drove smoothly, too smoothly. Like someone performing the role of a friend.

"Jane called this morning," Christine said casually. "Said she was worried about you. Thought maybe you'd finally cracked."

Elira gripped the coffee tighter. "Jane... is she my roommate?"

Christine smiled. "You really are out of it, huh? Jane's been your best friend since sophomore year. I'm just the girl you argue with every other week."

Elira forced a laugh. "Right. Memory's a mess."

"Always has been."

The car stopped.

But not at a university.

They were parked in front of a café—small, brick, and quiet. A name etched in cursive: Thread & Bloom.

Christine unbuckled. "Come on. You're skipping today."

"Why?"

Christine's smile turned sharper. "Because someone's waiting for you."

Elira didn't move. Her body screamed to run.

Christine leaned in, whispering close.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Then she got out of the car, leaving Elira frozen.

Across the street, standing beneath a streetlamp in the daylight, was a figure she somehow recognized.

Dark coat. Wind-tousled hair. Eyes that looked straight through her like they remembered everything she didn't.

Kael.