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"

Elira sat at a café table across from Jane. The world outside moved like a film reel—flickering too fast, then too slow. The air was thick with the scent of roasted beans and something else she couldn't name.

Jane sipped her latte, watching her. "You've been spacing out again."

"I'm fine," Elira replied automatically, though her throat felt dry. "I just haven't slept much."

Jane frowned. "You did. At the diner. You wore the same shirt."

"I've never been to a diner with you."

A beat of silence. Jane blinked. "Elira... we were just there."

Elira gripped her cup tightly. Her knuckles turned white. The cup felt too hot—like it had just been poured. But it had been there for at least fifteen minutes. Right?

She suddenly remembered Jane holding her hand, comforting her after she cried about Kael.

The next moment, Jane was standing. Angry. "You're not even trying to get better! You keep pushing people away, and I'm—"

"What did I say?" Elira interrupted. "Why are you mad?"

Jane looked stunned. "You're joking."

Elira's heart pounded. Her mouth was dry. She looked down—and realized she was crying.

Had she been crying this whole time?

She didn't remember feeling sad. Just confused.

Back in the motel, Kael was standing at the edge of the bed, arms crossed. A flicker of something sharp passed through his eyes when he saw her.

"You saw Christine again," he said.

Elira ignored him. She moved past him, dropped her bag on the floor, and opened the laptop. The flash drive was still there.

"You're going too fast," Kael said, his voice low. "There's a reason your memories are returning like this. You weren't meant to—"

"To what?" she snapped. "To remember my own life?"

Her fingers trembled as she clicked a new file.

This one was shorter. Just a single sentence from a version of herself she couldn't place:

"If you remember loving him—run."

Not a vague idea of it. A vivid, gut-deep memory. His hands in her hair. The sound of rain hitting a window. His voice whispering her name like it was a prayer.

Kael moved closer. "What did you see?"

She stepped back. "I… I don't know. It felt…"

Kael looked pained. "That wasn't real. Someone implanted that. That wasn't us."

Elira's knees buckled and she sank to the floor, clutching her chest. The air felt too thin. Her brain was rewiring itself faster than she could process.

Kael knelt beside her. "You need to stop pushing."

"What if I can't?" she whispered. "What if I'm not just remembering—what if I'm remembering wrong?"

He didn't answer. But the look on his face told her: He was afraid.

Later that night, a whisper stirred her from sleep.

It was her own voice again—this time, not from a file.

"They'll all lie to you, Elira. But I won't."

"I'm the only version of you who made it to the end."

Chapter 9 – The Realest Lie