31. Interlude
Interlude
I t was raining.
Slow. Heavy. Like the sky was grieving.
I stood at the edge of the lake, barefoot in the mud, a white nightgown clinging to my legs like a second skin. The trees looked wrong—taller than I remembered, twisted shadows swaying in the wind.
And the reflection staring back from the black water wasn’t mine.
She looked like me.
But older. Harsher.
Golden hair slicked to her face, eyes hollow.
Her lips parted—no sound, but I understood.
" Find him before they do."
Behind me, something moved. A figure in the woods. Tattooed hands. A lighter sparking. Smoke curling from the corner of his mouth.
But when I reached for Trace—
It wasn’t him.
This man had my eyes.
My mouth.
A stranger I’d never met.
And yet—somehow—I knew him.
My father.
He smiled. And the forest caught fire.
I woke with a scream trapped in my throat.
Palms damp. Skin cold.
And for the first time in my life, I didn’t know if it was just a dream.