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 cab sped through the city's sleeping veins, headlights carving tunnels of light through the fog. Elira sat in the back beside Kael, clutching the red-threaded notebook like it was the only thing anchoring her.

She hadn't spoken since they left Christine. Not because she didn't want to—but because the silence felt louder than any question.

"You remembered something," he said quietly. "What did you see?"

Elira stared ahead. "Needles. Restraints. Christine holding me down."

Kael didn't react, but his jaw tightened. "They've used that method before. To make you forget faster."

She turned to him. "You said I've reset before. Do you know when it started?"

Kael's eyes flickered. He hesitated. "I'm taking you to the place it began. Where you made me promise to help you remember. Even if it meant breaking the rules."

He looked out the window. "You'll understand when you see her name."

They stopped outside a crumbling art deco building on the edge of the city—forgotten by time, graffiti clinging to its bones. Kael led her through the rusted front door and up a narrow staircase that creaked like it was whispering secrets.

"This was your room. The first one."

The air was still. Cold. Like a memory sealed in ice.

The room was bare—except for the walls, covered in drawings. Chaotic, overlapping, frenzied. Faces blurred into symbols. One phrase repeated again and again:

Then, near the corner wall, she saw it. A name scrawled in charcoal, over and over until the wall was blackened around it:

The moment her eyes locked onto the name, her chest clenched.

She stumbled back. Her hands shook.

Kael's voice was a rasp. "The one who built this loop."

Kael looked away. "No. You did this to yourself. To hide from her."

—a voice, whispering her name in the dark

"She's the Threadkeeper," Kael said. "She doesn't forget. She waits."

Elira backed into the wall, breathing hard.

And then she saw it—her own handwriting, hidden beneath layers of scribble, like a final warning she left herself:

If you remember her name… it's already too late.

The lightbulb above flickered once.

And somewhere in the building, a door creaked open.

Chapter 5 – The Name That Shouldn't Be Spoken