Chapter Forty-Nine

The apartment felt quieter than usual. Even the city beyond the windows seems muted, as if holding its breath. Celeste sat curled up on the couch, staring at her hands.

She could still feel the lingering warmth of Amelia's touch from earlier, the way her fingers had clutched hers, the silent promise in her grip. She wanted to hold on to that feeling—to the safety of it. But in the back of her mind, she couldn't ignore the truth pressing down on her.

Nathaniel's warning still rang in her ears.

"The cracks are spreading, Celeste. You can't ignore them forever."

Her wrist had stopped aching, but when she pulled back her sleeve, the truth was undeniable. The thin fracture had deepened, reaching up her arm like a spiderweb threatening to splinter. It wasn't just a mark. It was proof.

Proof that time was running out.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She clenched her fingers into a fist, willing them to feel solid, to feel real. But doubt was creeping in.

What if she wasn't real?

What if she was nothing more than a painting given life, a momentary dream, never meant to last?

The sound of footsteps pulled her from her thoughts. Amelia walked in from the kitchen, two steaming mugs in her hands. She hesitated when she saw Celeste's expression, then quickly set them down on the coffee table before settling beside her.

"What's wrong?"

Celeste shook her head, but Amelia wasn't fooled. Gently, she reached for Celeste's arm, pushing back the fabric of her sleeve. The sight of the crack made her inhale sharply.

"It's worse," Amelia murmured.

Celeste nodded. "I know."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Amelia's fingers hovered just above Celeste's wrist, as if afraid that touching it would somehow make things worse. Her brows furrowed, frustration and worry mixing in her eyes.

"This isn't fair," Amelia said finally, voice tight. "You shouldn't have to deal with this."

Celeste let out a bitter laugh. "Maybe not. But it's happening anyway."

Amelia shook her head, jaw clenching. "There has to be a way to fix this. We just haven't found it yet."

Celeste wanted to believe her. But the fear in her chest was growing, whispering things she didn't want to hear.

What if there was no way to fix it? What if she was never meant to stay?

What if she was disappearing?

Amelia must have sensed her hesitation because she suddenly turned to her, eyes blazing with determination. "Listen to me." She took Celeste's hands in hers, gripping them tightly. "I'm not going to lose you. Do you understand that? We are going to find a way."

Celeste swallowed hard. "What if we don't?"

"Then we fight harder," Amelia shot back. "I don't care what it takes."

Celeste's breath caught in her throat. The certainty in Amelia's voice was enough to steady her for a moment, but the doubt was still there, lingering beneath the surface.

Amelia exhaled, softening. "I just found you, Celeste. I'm not letting you go."

Celeste closed her eyes. She wanted to believe that Amelia's determination alone would be enough to hold her together. That love could defy whatever force was pulling her away.

But deep down, she wasn't sure if love was enough to fight fate.

And that terrified her.

A sudden knock at the door made both of them jump.

Celeste's heart pounded as Amelia shot her a worried glance before pushing herself up.

"Who the hell—" Amelia muttered under her breath, hesitating before reaching for the door.

Celeste stood as well, a cold unease curling in her stomach.

Amelia pulled the door open, and the sight of the man standing there made Celeste freeze.

Nathaniel.

His presence filled the doorway, tall and composed as ever, but there was something different about him tonight. His usual cool demeanor was tinged with something heavier—urgency.

"We need to talk," Nathaniel said, his gaze flicking between them before settling on Celeste. "Now."

Amelia squared her shoulders, blocking part of the entrance. "You don't get to show up here like this."

Nathaniel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know you're angry, Amelia. And I don't blame you. But you need to listen."

Amelia didn't move. "You locked us out of that warehouse."

"I did." Nathaniel's voice was calm but firm. "Because I wasn't going to let you walk into a death trap."

Celeste felt the tension between them crackle like static electricity. Amelia's hands were balled into fists at her sides, and for a moment, Celeste thought she might slam the door in his face.

But then Nathaniel spoke again, softer this time.

"She doesn't have much time."

The air shifted. Celeste's stomach twisted painfully.

Amelia stiffened. "…What do you mean?"

Nathaniel's gaze didn't waver. "The cracks aren't just spreading. They're accelerating. Whatever force brought Celeste here—it's breaking down." He hesitated, then added, "She's breaking down."

The words felt like a punch to the gut. Celeste sucked in a sharp breath, her hands trembling at her sides.

Amelia shook her head. "No. There has to be a way to stop it."

"There is," Nathaniel said. "But we have to move quickly. I need you both to come with me."

Celeste looked at Amelia, whose expression was caught between rage and desperation.

"…Why should we trust you?" Amelia asked, her voice hoarse.

Nathaniel's eyes softened slightly as he looked at her. "Because, despite what you think, I've been trying to protect you both."

Amelia exhaled sharply, gripping the doorframe.

Celeste finally found her voice. "Where are we going?"

Nathaniel met her gaze. "To find answers. And, if we're lucky, a way to save you."

The words sent a tremor through Celeste. Hope flickered, fragile but there.

Amelia looked at Celeste, conflict written all over her face.

And then, after a long moment, she exhaled. "Fine." She stepped aside. "But if you lie to us, Nathaniel—"

"I won't," he assured her.

Celeste swallowed hard, her pulse thundering in her ears.

One way or another, tonight would change everything.