y waist. A soft breath against my neck. For a moment, I almost convince
s snap
't the white sterile hos
Evan and I had a future. The curtains flutter in the soft morning breeze from the cracked window. The
lams again
, his chest pressed against my back. Hi
this. No, this isn't real. I shift slightly, testing the weight of his arm. His hand twitches but doesn't let go. His scent fi
aceful. Beautiful. The same face I loved for ten y
ke he hadn't just killed me. A tiny
es meet mine. He smiles, the lazy morni
oice still rough with sl
my stiff body. He leans forward to
like you s
me. His brows knit togeth
My hands are trembling. My bre
, sitting up to
o right. The room is exactly the way it was years ago. The ugly lamp we found at the thrift store. T
is th
get here?
you talking about? You'
late, but yo
n't know him. Because I
an before the
refully, "did you
e. That's easier
weakly. "Somet
step back. His hand falls to his lap, and so
liar look I ig
g on with yo
"Nothing. I jus
. I grip the edge of the sink until my knuckles turn
ound. Something. Bu
as years ago. There are no brui
bracelet I lost six years ago g
ack at me isn't the one who died last night. She's younger. Softer.
god," I
all. A cheap cat calendar Evan's mom
17
ars ea
I open them again, the numbers do
ly cam
ough the door makes me jump.
" I say to
ork?" Work. At this time, I was still a junior assistant a
inst my chest. It's
oom. I know his routine by heart. He'll make coffee, complain about the re
already dressed in a gray Tshirt and jeans, his hair messy in that annoyingl
you're oka
." He narrows his eyes, like he's trying to
before I died. But something inside me stirs. A sharp, c
find out about that thing with
ree
didn't move. But I heard his v
other thought. This one lazier, smug. Gotta get her to stop nagging about the trip
ing against my ribs. I can hear hi
ri
say quickly, gra
"We're supposed to have bre
I hear it. She's cute when she's upset. It's like a slap. I can see him clearly now. Not the mask. N
neighborhood looks exactly like it did ten ye
s. Patterson's fence. The world sme
. This is real. I died. I woke up here. And I can hear thoughts.
she left the stove on. A teenage boy on his
gainst my ears, bu
t, the noise dulls. Not gone, but softer. Manageable. Like turning the volume down. I take a deep breath. Okay. I can control this. Maybe
re at the emp
ything goes wrong. Ten years before he
ting the cool air fill my lungs. I should feel broken. T
. I hear footsteps crunching on the path. A m
n he does, his gaze flicks toward me
pecting to hear his thoughts too. But there
im with my eyes. I can hear ever
e hell
k once, and then walks away. The silence aro
know who he is. But something in my
ppeared, my pulse racing. Ten yea
wind blows through the park, and I swear I hear a fai
g, Aria. My bl

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