What if every seven days, you became a stranger to your own life?

Elira wakes up in new lives every week—different names, unfamiliar places, yet the same haunting questions. With memories that don’t belong to her and a face she can’t forget, one man stands at the center of it all: Kael.

He claims to be her anchor—the keeper of her lost past. But as Elira uncovers fragments of truth, she begins to question everything: Kael’s intentions, her friends’ loyalty, and the very nature of her identity.

In a world where memory resets and nothing is what it seems, Elira must choose: reclaim who she was… or risk everything to become who she was meant to be.

"Tethered"

The first thing Elira noticed was the silence.

Not the quiet kind. The thick, heavy kind that presses against your ears like the world's holding its breath.

She sat across from Kael in the corner booth of Thread & Bloom. The window beside them blurred the outside world into muted colors—like a painting someone forgot to finish. No one else was inside. No baristas, no background chatter. Just the low hum of the fridge and Kael's unreadable stare.

"Why do I forget?" she asked finally. "Why me?"

Kael didn't answer immediately. He just turned his mug slowly in his hands, steam curling between his fingers.

"I don't know who you were before," he said. "Only who you are now. Every seven days, you become someone new. But your thread—your soul—it stays the same."

"That sounds like something a cult leader would say."

His mouth twitched. "You've said that before."

Elira narrowed her eyes. "You said you store my memories. How?"

He reached into his coat and pulled out something small—a silver key, no bigger than a house key, glowing faintly under the café lights. He set it on the table.

"This isn't for doors," he said. "It's for... moments."

"You expect me to believe a key holds memories?"

"I don't expect you to believe anything yet."

Elira hesitated. Then, curiosity overpowered caution. Her fingers brushed the cool metal.

For a second, she wasn't in the café. She was in a dark room, dimly lit by a single hanging bulb. Rain tapped on the window. And she was crying—sobbing—as Kael stood across from her.

"You have to let go," he had said, his voice breaking. "They'll find you if you hold on too long."

And she had screamed. Not in pain, but defiance.

"I won't forget again. Not this time!"

The memory snapped back like a stretched rubber band.

She gasped, clutching the table to steady herself. Her coffee had spilled. Kael didn't move to help.

Elira stared at the key. "How many more of those do you have?"

Kael's eyes darkened. "Enough to make you question everything."

She leaned back, trying to breathe. Her hands trembled.

"You work with Christine?" she asked.

Elira rubbed her temples. "God, I don't even know who I am."

"You're Elira," he said, with a calm certainty that made her chest ache. "You've always been Elira. Even if no one else remembers you."

There was pain in his eyes—genuine, raw. Like someone who'd watched her die over and over again. And still chose to stay.

"But... I want to remember. I need to know what's happening to me."

He stood. "Then we don't have much time."

"Because every time you reset... the world resets too. And something's changing. The threads are starting to fray."

He turned, coat swaying behind him as he walked toward the exit.

Elira stared at the key in her palm. Still warm. Still humming.

And for the first time since waking up in someone else's life... she felt a choice was hers to make.

She stood and followed him into the fog.

Chapter 2 – Fragments