I was 21. A student.
Then I was hit by a car.
I woke up in a hospital bed — same name, same face, same scars — but in a world where magic is real and the people calling me "family" are strangers.
I have memories that aren’t mine, and flashbacks that feel too vivid to be fiction. My ‘new’ life is shrouded in secrecy, and the moment I open my eyes, I’m thrust into the middle of a crime where I am both the victim and the suspect, a reputation eerily similar to mine, and a past I may have tried to forget.
I don’t know who I really am — but if I don’t figure it out soon, someone else will.
And I would be naive to let them.