Eidolon Nexus: Echoes of Memory Chapter 2 New Beginning?

A woman wakes in an alley with no name, no memories, and a haunting sense that something is terribly wrong. But one word stirs something deep Artemis. With only that name and flashes of strange things, she’s thrust into a world she doesn’t recognize. As she searches for clues to her identity and what happened to her it becomes clear her past isn’t just lost… it may be dangerous.

This story is a follow up story to Eidolon Nexus: The Shattered Realm however it is not necessary to read the previous story if you don’t want to as with the main character having no memory it works if you have or haven’t read it. If you do wish to see the first story you can read it here https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book-page/104648/eidolon-nexu...

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Vote on a returning characters return for free via the link above! ^

Chapter 2

2 -2

A job.

Where do I even start?

I don’t have any experience or at least, none that I remember. No resume, no references, nothing that would tell an employer I can actually do anything.

I exhale, gripping the book in my hands. The shelter might have resources for job searches, but I don’t want to wait around.

I glance up and down the street. The city is busy, stores and cafés lining the sidewalks, people moving in and out of businesses.

Maybe I just… walk in and ask? See if anyone’s hiring?

It feels like a long shot, but what other choice do I have?

I take a deep breath and start walking.

I walk down the sidewalk, scanning the windows of shops and cafés, looking for anything—anything—that might give me a place to start.

Then I see it.

A small “Help Wanted” sign taped to the front window of a café.

I stop, staring at it for a moment. It’s nothing fancy—just a handwritten note, slightly curled at the edges, as if it’s been there for a while.

I hesitate.

I have no idea if I’ve ever worked in a café before. I don’t even know if I can do the job. But right now, I need something. A place to start.

I take a breath, step forward, and push open the door.

A small bell chimes as I step inside. The scent of coffee and freshly baked bread fills the air, warm and inviting.

At the counter, a young man—early twenties, maybe—leans against the register, scrolling through his phone. He glances up when he hears the door, straightening slightly.

“Hey, welcome,” he says, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Need a table, or…?”

I shift awkwardly, glancing at the Help Wanted sign in the window. “Uh, actually… I saw the sign. Are you still hiring?”

His eyebrows lift slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that. “Oh. Yeah, I think so. Hang on.”

He turns, disappearing through a door behind the counter.

I exhale slowly, gripping the notebook in my hands.

Okay. First step.

A minute later, he comes back, wiping his hands on his apron.

“Alright,” he says, leaning against the counter again. “Boss is out right now, but we are still hiring. You got experience?”

I freeze for a second.

I could lie, but if they ask me to make something and I completely screw it up, that won’t get me anywhere.

I shake my head. “Not really. But I’m a fast learner.”

He tilts his head, studying me for a moment. Then he shrugs. “Honestly, we’re kinda desperate, so that might be enough.”

I blink. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. It’s mostly counter work, running orders, keeping things clean—nothing crazy. You think you can handle that?”

I nod quickly. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Cool. Fill out an application, and the boss’ll probably want to meet you tomorrow.” He reaches under the counter, grabs a form, and slides it toward me with a pen.

I stare at the paper. Name, address, phone number.

My grip tightens slightly on the pen.

Some of these… I don’t have answers for.

“Um… I uh…” I swallow, gripping the pen tighter. “I’m an amnesiac, and I don’t have a few of these.”

The guy raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. “Wait, for real?”

I nod, bracing myself for the awkwardness that’s about to follow.

He looks at me for a second, then shrugs. “Huh. That’s a new one.”

I blink. “That’s it? No weird looks or questions?”

He smirks slightly. “I mean, I have questions, but I also know to not pry. If you can take orders and clean tables, that’s all that really matters.”

I exhale, some of the tension leaving my shoulders.

“Just fill in what you can,” he says, tapping the paper. “Boss might ask about it, but if they’re cool with it, you’re good.”

I nod, hesitating only for a moment before starting to write.

For name, I write Artemis.:

For address… I leave it blank.

I pause at previous work experience, my mind blank. I should have something to put here. But I don’t.

Slowly, I write: Willing to learn.

It’s not much.

But right now, it’s all I have.

“Okay, just come back in tomorrow morning. Boss should be here then,” he says, taking the paper back and giving it a quick glance before nodding.

“Thanks,” I say, relieved that this was easier than I expected.

He grabs a small piece of paper, scribbles something down, and hands it to me. “If you need anything, you can call me.”

I blink, taking the paper hesitantly. There’s a phone number written on it.

“Oh, uh… thanks?”

He smirks slightly, leaning back against the counter. “Yeah, you seem kinda lost—literally. Figured it wouldn’t hurt.”

I stare at the number for a second before tucking it into my pocket.

I don’t even have a phone.

But still… it’s weirdly nice.

“Well, thanks for the help—” I glance down at his name tag.

“Ethan.”

He catches me looking and smirks. “Yeah, that’s me.”

I nod. “Right. Well… thanks, Ethan.”

“No problem, Artemis,” he says, like my name isn’t weird or unusual at all. “See you tomorrow.”

I give him a small nod before turning toward the door.

As I step outside, the cool air hits me, and I let out a slow breath.

I might have a job. A small step, but a step forward.

Now I just have to make it through the rest of today.

I take out the notebook and click the pen open, leaning against the side of the building as I write.

Got a job? Maybe.

Some nice guy gave me his number.

I pause, tapping the pen against the page.

Was he just being nice, or was he interested in me?

As soon as I write it, my face heats up.

Oh my god, why am I even thinking about this?

He was kind of cute, though…

I quickly shake my head, shutting the notebook with a snap. More important things to worry about right now, Artemis.

Like surviving. Like figuring out who I am.

I shove the notebook back into my pocket and push off the wall, heading back toward the shelter.

Tomorrow, I’ll find out if I have a job.

The day after, I meet with the caseworker.

I hope they can find more than I did. Going through all those missing persons reports didn’t help, but maybe they have better resources—fingerprints, records, something.

I sigh, shoving my hands into my hoodie pockets as I walk.

It’s frustrating, not knowing if there’s even anything to find. What if I was never reported missing? What if there’s no record of me at all?

I shake my head. No, don’t think like that.

I just have to wait.

And I’m really, really sick of waiting.

No wallet. No phone.

You’d think I’d been robbed.

But if I had, I’d probably have been physically hurt, right? Some kind of struggle, bruises, anything.

Instead, the doctors said there was nothing wrong with me. No signs of trauma, no injuries—just me, showing up in an alley with no memory.

Who loses everything except their body?

I grip the notebook in my pocket a little tighter.

Something doesn’t add up.

When I get back to the shelter, I pull out the notebook and flip to a blank page.

I need to write this down—all of it.

I jot each thing down quickly, my handwriting a little messy but legible.
• The reflection – The castle I saw in the glass, but when I looked directly, it was gone.
• The voice – Someone telling me to run. I don’t know who, but it feels important.
• The dream – A stone doorway, glowing symbols, whispers in the dark.
•The red-haired girl – I saw her in place of the psychiatrist. She knew me. Then she vanished.

I stare at the list.

It’s not much. Random, disconnected things. But they keep happening.

If I keep writing them down, maybe I’ll start to see a pattern. Maybe it’ll start to make sense.

I tap the pen against the page.

Something inside me knows that I’m missing something big.

But what?

My stomach rumbles, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Right. Food.

I close the notebook and shove it back into my hoodie pocket before standing up. The shelter usually has something—nothing fancy, but enough to get by.

I make my way to the common area, where a few people are sitting at tables, eating. There’s a table near the back with some donated food—mostly sandwiches, fruit, and bottled water.

I grab a sandwich and a bottle, finding an empty seat near the wall.

As I take a bite, my mind drifts back to the list in my notebook.

Even if I can’t remember who I am…

Something is trying to make me remember.

That’s good, I think. My brain is trying, at least.

Even if it’s not working too well.

I take another bite of the sandwich, chewing slowly. It’s not great, but it’s food. And right now, that’s enough.

I glance around the room—people keeping to themselves, eating quietly, some staring off like they’re lost in their own worlds.

Maybe some of them feel like I do. Like they don’t belong anywhere.

I sigh, leaning back in my chair.

Tomorrow, I find out if I have a job.

The day after, I meet with the caseworker.

One step at a time.

I lay down on one of the cots, pulling the thin blanket over me. My body feels heavy, my mind still turning over everything from today, but exhaustion is stronger.

I close my eyes, hoping—begging—for a dream that might actually help me remember.

Then—

Suddenly, I’m in an alley.

The alley.

The one I woke up in.

But this isn’t like the other dreams—where I was just watching, seeing flashes of things that slipped away the moment I reached for them.

I can move.

I take a slow, cautious step forward. The pavement is wet beneath my feet, the air thick with the smell of rain and something faintly metallic.

I look around, my pulse quickening.

Is this a dream?

Or am I remembering?

I lift my hand slowly, testing if I can really move—if this is just another dream or something more.

I press my palm against the rough brick wall beside me, grounding myself. This feels real.

I take a slow breath and start examining the alley.

If this is a memory—if my mind is finally giving me something—then maybe there’s something I missed when I first woke up here.

I scan the ground, the walls, the dumpsters, looking for anything that stands out.

A clue. A sign. Something that tells me why I was here.

I freeze.

Whispers.

Soft, indistinct, curling around me like smoke.

I turn sharply.

A shadow stretches across the ground, creeping toward me like it has a mind of its own.

My pulse spikes.

“What the hell—”

I stumble backward, my breath coming faster as the shadow keeps moving, slow but deliberate.

It’s not natural—there’s no person, no light source casting it. Just darkness, slithering across the pavement like it’s reaching for me.

The whispers grow louder.

This isn’t just a dream.

I have to move now.

I bolt out of the alley, my heart hammering in my chest.

The whispers chase me, but I don’t stop—I don’t look back.

I reach the street, stumbling into the glow of a nearby lamp, its light casting a sharp contrast against the dark.

Panting, I turn, eyes wide, scanning the alley behind me.

Nothing.

No shadow. No whispers. Just wet pavement and empty space.

But I know what I saw.

I know what I felt.

Something was there—and it was coming for me.

Why doesn’t this feel like a dream?

This isn’t normal.

Is this just a lucid dream turned nightmare?

But somehow… it doesn’t feel like it is.

Then—

A screech splits the air, sharp and unnatural.

I look up, my stomach twisting.

A large, beaked creature is diving toward me, its wings a twisting mix of black and green, shifting like liquid shadow. Its glowing eyes lock onto me, its talons outstretched.

I throw myself to the ground, heart pounding, just as it reaches me—

I wake up.

My breath catches. My body jerks slightly.

Sunlight spills through the shelter windows. People are moving around, talking quietly, getting ready for the day.

I blink rapidly, trying to steady myself.

It’s already morning.

But my hands are shaking. My body remembers the fear. The running. The thing in the sky.

I press a hand against my chest, trying to calm down.

That wasn’t just a dream.

I know it wasn’t.

What the hell does it mean?

It felt so real—the alley, the whispers, the moving shadow, that thing diving at me—

But there’s no way it could be real.

Shadows don’t move like that. Creatures like that don’t exist.

Right?

I sit up quickly, grabbing my notebook and flipping to a blank page. My hands are still a little unsteady, but I force myself to write everything down before it slips away.
• The alley again. I could move. It felt real.
• A shadow creeping toward me. No source, no person. Just… moving on its own.
• Whispers. Couldn’t make out words.
• A monster? A bird? Black and green wings. A beak. It dived at me.
• I woke up right before it reached me.

I stare at the words, my pen hovering over the page.

I don’t know what any of this means.

But if this isn’t just a dream—if my mind is trying to tell me something—

Then what the hell happened to me before I lost my memory?

Let’s think this through logically.

Maybe I saw a bird at some point, and my brain just warped it into that… thing. A mix of reality and imagination.

And the shadow—maybe it was just a trick of the light? Or maybe I saw someone’s shadow before something happened, and my mind twisted it into something worse.

I sigh, rubbing my temple.

I have no clue.

And right now, I don’t have time to figure it out.

Oh, no—what time is it?

I glance around the shelter, my heart jumping as I spot the clock on the wall.

10:17 AM.

Shit.

I scramble up from the cot. I don’t even have the job yet, and I’m already about to be late.

I run the whole way, my heart pounding—not just from panic, but from the lingering unease of the dream.

By the time I reach the café, I barely make it through the door as the clock hits 10:36.

Ethan is behind the counter, wiping down the espresso machine. He glances up as I stumble in, slightly out of breath.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” I say quickly, bracing myself for an annoyed response.

But Ethan just shrugs. “Eh, you’re not that late. Boss isn’t even here yet.”

I blink, still catching my breath. “Oh. Okay.”

He smirks. “You sprinted here, didn’t you?”

I straighten, trying to act like I totally didn’t just run across half the city. “…No.”

He laughs. “Relax. You’re fine. Just, y’know, maybe aim for ‘on time’ if you actually get hired.”

I exhale, finally letting some of the tension drain from my body. “Yeah. Got it.”

“Here, you should eat something,” Ethan says, grabbing a coffee cup and a bagel from behind the counter.

I hesitate. “I don’t have any money.”

He just rolls his eyes and slides them toward me. “It’s on the house.”

I stare at the food for a moment before slowly reaching for it. “Are you sure? I don’t want to—”

“Just take it, Artemis,” he says with a smirk. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

I don’t argue. My stomach growls the second I take a bite of the bagel, and I realize I probably do look half-dead.

I sip the coffee carefully, the warmth settling in my chest.

I wasn’t expecting kindness today. But I’ll take it.

I glance around the café, noting the complete lack of customers.

“…I thought you said you desperately needed help?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Ethan coughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, uh… today’s just a low day.”

I narrow my eyes. “Right. And how often do these low days happen?”

He shrugs. “Often enough.”

I take another bite of the bagel, eyeing him suspiciously. “So you guys aren’t actually that busy, are you?”

Ethan sighs dramatically. “Look, we do need help, okay? Just… more during lunch and weekends.”

I smirk slightly. “So, what, am I getting hired just to hang out with you on slow days?”

He grins. “Maybe. You did seem kinda lost. Figured you could use something to do.”

I pause at that, suddenly unsure what to say.

Because… he’s not wrong.

“Besides,” Ethan says with a grin, “I’ve been told I’m great company.”

I scoff, smirking. “Uh-huh. By who? Your mom?”

He puts a hand over his chest, gasping dramatically. “Ouch. Wounded. Deeply.”

I take another sip of coffee, unimpressed. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”

“I’ll have you know,” he continues, pointing at me, “I am very well liked by everyone.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Everyone?”

“Everyone.”

“Even your boss?”

Ethan hesitates for half a second before clearing his throat. “…Mostly everyone.”

“How late does he usually show up? It’s almost eleven,” I ask, glancing at the clock.

“Noon, usually,” Ethan says casually, leaning against the counter.

I narrow my eyes. “You told me to come in the morning.”

He grins. “Good thing I did, considering how late you were.”

I roll my eyes. “They don’t exactly have wake-up calls at the homeless shelter.”

That wipes the smirk off his face. Just for a second.

I regret saying it immediately—not because it isn’t true, but because I hate the sudden shift in the air.

I go back to my bagel, acting like I don’t notice. Ethan doesn’t say anything right away, but after a moment, he shrugs.

“Fair enough,” he says lightly, but I catch the way his fingers drum against the counter, like he wants to say more but doesn’t.

I take another sip of coffee. “So,” I say, changing the subject, “since we have an hour to kill, are you actually gonna teach me anything, or are we just standing here?”

His smirk returns instantly. “Oh, you wanna work now?”

I roll my eyes again. “Just show me what buttons not to press before I break something.”

“Already trying to get on the boss’s good side?” Ethan teases. “You’re gonna make me look bad.”

“Are you that bad of an employee?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“…No,” he says, a little too quickly. “I’m just preoccupied with customer service.”

I fold my arms. “Care to elaborate?”

He grins, leaning against the counter. “I may be easily distracted by the ladies.” He chuckles. “They say I have a flirting problem.”

I scoff. “Uh-huh. Then how come you haven’t flirted with me?”

The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them.

Because Ethan smiles—slow, amused, far too confident.

“Do you want me to flirt with you?” he asks smoothly.

I freeze.

Oh no.

I freeze, my brain immediately short-circuiting.

Oh no.

“No, I—uh—um—” My face burns, and suddenly, the café feels way too small. “I gotta use the restroom!”

I turn and bolt, practically tripping over myself as I rush toward the back.

Behind me, I hear Ethan chuckle. “Smooth, Artemis. Real smooth.”

I slam the restroom door shut behind me and press my hands against my face.

What the hell was that?!

Well, that was embarrassing.

I completely froze.

I sigh, turning on the faucet and splashing cold water on my face. The shock helps a little, but it doesn’t erase the fact that I just panicked over a dumb joke.

After a minute, I take a deep breath, straighten my hoodie, and step back out.

I’m trying to forget what happened.

That doesn’t happen.

Ethan is already grinning when I walk back to the counter. “You good?”

“Fine,” I say quickly. Changing the subject. Moving on. We are never speaking of this again.

But of course, he isn’t done.

“Jokes aside,” he says, crossing his arms. “I won’t lie—I was planning on flirting with you.”

I blink. “What?”

He shrugs. “But once I found out about, y’know, your whole situation, I felt kinda rude doing that.”

I stare at him, caught between mild horror and… something else. “You had a plan?”

He smirks. “I always have a plan.”

“So, I’m guessing the number wasn’t out of the kindness of your heart,” I say, crossing my arms.

Ethan grins. “It was. It is.” He tilts his head slightly. “I just wouldn’t mind if it led to something.”

I scoff. “Smooth. Subtle.”

He chuckles. “I try.”

I shake my head, fighting the small smile threatening to form. “Anyway—are you gonna actually teach me anything, or are we just gonna stand here while you flirt with me?”

Ethan smirks. “Why not both?”

I groan. “Ethan.”

“Fine, fine,” he laughs, finally pushing off the counter. “Alright, newbie, let’s see if you can at least make a decent cup of coffee without setting anything on fire.”

“I don’t think that’s even possible,” I say, eyeing the espresso machine like it might explode if I touch it.

“It is,” Ethan says confidently, grabbing a cup and placing it in front of me. “And lucky for you, I’m an excellent teacher.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Debatable.”

He smirks. “You did just admit I was smooth and subtle.”

I groan. “Are you gonna hold that over my head forever?”

“Absolutely.”

I shake my head, but I can’t help the small laugh that slips out.

“Alright, fine. Teach me, oh wise coffee master.”

Ethan grins. “Now that’s the respect I deserve.”

After a bit and a few successes and fails I think I’m finally getting the hang of it.

It’s still confusing how many different types of drinks there are, not to mention all the modifications people can request. But at least I haven’t broken anything. Yet.

Then, the door chimes, and a man walks in.

I straighten, trying to look at least somewhat competent. “What would you like?” I ask.

The man raises an eyebrow, then looks past me at Ethan. “Who’s this? Your girlfriend?”

I immediately blush, my face heating up as I instinctively try to hide it behind my sleeve.

Ethan just laughs, completely unfazed. “Nope. This is your new employee.”

The man crosses his arms, eyeing me up and down with mild amusement.

Oh.

It’s the boss.

“Uh… hi,” I say quickly, trying to recover. “I’m Artemis.”

The boss studies me for a moment, then nods. “Artemis, huh? Ethan, you didn’t mention you were hiring someone new.”

Ethan shrugs. “Figured I’d surprise you.”

The boss sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Of course you did.” Then he looks back at me. “You ever worked in a café before?”

I hesitate. “Uh… no. But I’m learning.”

He raises an eyebrow at Ethan. “And? How’s she doing?”

Ethan grins. “Hasn’t burned the place down yet.”

The boss gives him a flat look before turning back to me. “Well, that’s a start.” He pauses, then nods. “Alright. Trial period. You screw up too much, you’re out. Fair?”

I nod quickly. “Fair.”

He gestures toward the counter. “Then get back to work.”

I exhale, relieved but nervous.

I really need to make this work.

“You mean I’ve been nervous all day when you’re the one in charge of whether I have a job?” I stare at him, half in disbelief.

Ethan grins. “Yeah.”

I open my mouth, then close it.

“…I hate you a little bit right now.”

He chuckles. “Understandable.”

I shake my head, still trying to process. Before I can say anything else, Ethan’s expression shifts—just slightly, losing that usual teasing edge.

“Look,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t want you to just pretend to like me ‘cause I’m your boss.”

I blink. “My boss?” I frown. “You mean you’re not just in charge of hiring?”

He shrugs. “No… I’m kinda in charge of everything.”

I stare at him.

“You own this place?”

“Technically, yeah.”

I groan, leaning against the counter. “Oh my god.”

“Or at least, I will,” Ethan says with a shrug. “I’m just part-owner for now until my dad fully ‘retires.’”

I narrow my eyes. “Fully?”

He smirks. “Yeah, he says he’s stepping back, but honestly? He really only comes here to relax—probably just to get away from my mom for a bit.”

I let out a breath, shaking my head. “So let me get this straight you basically own this place, you’ve been running things, you decided to hire me, and I’ve been stressing all morning for nothing?”

“Pretty much,” he says, completely unapologetic.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Unbelievable.”

“Hey,” he says, grinning, “on the bright side, that means your job’s already secure. Unless you burn the place down. Then we might have to talk.”

I glare at him. “One accident, and you’ll never let it go, huh?”

“Not a chance.”

“So why the whole charade?” I cross my arms, raising an eyebrow. “Just to mess with the girl who’s got no memory and is homeless?”

Ethan’s smirk immediately disappears.

“No—no, I—” He rubs the back of his neck, looking genuinely guilty. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t say anything, waiting.

He sighs. “I meant what I said about wanting to see if you liked me before you knew I was the boss. And then when I found out about, y’know… all of that—” He gestures vaguely. “—I didn’t really have a way of backing out without making things super weird.”

I narrow my eyes. “Oh, so this isn’t weird?”

Ethan groans, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, yes, it’s a little weird, but I didn’t do it to mess with you. I swear.”

I watch him for a second, trying to decide if I believe him.

…Yeah. I think I do.

I sigh, shaking my head. “You’re lucky I really need this job.”

His grin slowly returns. “Oh, I know.”

“How about, to make it up to you, I let you stay with me?” Ethan says casually, like he’s offering me a free drink instead of a place to live.

I turn toward him, astonished at his audacity.

“Are you joking?”

He grins. “Not like that.” Then, with a smirk, he adds, “Unless you want it to be.”

I gape at him, my face instantly heating up.

Before I can yell at him, he holds up his hands in surrender. “Kidding, kidding!”

I hesitate, my mind racing.

It’s too much. Too generous. Too sudden.

But… it’s also a real place to stay. Something better than a shelter.

I cross my arms, eyeing him suspiciously. “And what’s in it for you?”

Ethan shrugs. “A little less guilt, a little good karma. And maybe my dad stops yelling at me for not using my apartment properly.”

I stare at him.

This is insane.

But I can’t deny that I’m tempted.

But I have a feeling he’s definitely trying to get in my pants…

This is definitely just part of his moves.

I narrow my eyes. “How often do you invite girls to work here and live with you?”

Ethan chuckles, leaning against the counter. “Believe it or not, you’re the first.”

I scoff. “Oh, sure. That’s believable.”

He clears his throat. “Anyway, I’m serious. No weird conditions, no strings attached. Just figured… you need a place, and I have one. Simple as that.”

I squint, studying his face.

Is he actually being genuine, or is this just another smooth-talking Ethan move™?

I almost don’t feel like I have a choice.

It’s this or staying at the homeless shelter—and that’s assuming I’m even able to get in every night.

Shelters fill up. They turn people away. And even when I do get in, it’s not exactly safe or comfortable.

Ethan’s offer… it’s a lot. And I still don’t fully trust his intentions. But a real place to stay? A bed? A little bit of stability?

I exhale, running a hand through my hair. “You’re really not expecting anything?”

Ethan shakes his head. “Nope. Just trying to help.” Then he grins. “Besides, if I was trying to win you over, I wouldn’t be bribing you with a couch—I’d be going way bigger.”

I roll my eyes. “Right. Because that’s what’s stopping me.”

He smirks. “So… is that a yes?”

I hesitate.

But in the end, I already know my answer.

“Yeah,” I say finally. “I’ll take the couch.”

His face lights up a bit, and I already regret it.

“Awesome!” Ethan says, way too pleased with himself.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “How exactly does this place make money? There hasn’t been a single customer since I got here.”

Ethan leans on the counter, completely unfazed. “We do get customers. Just… not in the morning. Or mid-morning. Or early afternoon.”

I stare at him. “So basically, never?”

He smirks. “We’re a late-day café. People come in for lunch, and we kill it in the evening. Trust me, it picks up.”

I cross my arms, skeptical. “So I just happened to show up during the deadest part of the day?”

“Exactly,” he says, grinning.

I shake my head. “You’re so lucky I need this job.”

After another hour of absolutely nothing just me learning how to clean tables, restock supplies, and use the register people actually start showing up.

At first, it’s just a couple of stragglers. Then, like someone flipped a switch, the café fills up fast.

I barely have time to process it before Ethan claps his hands. “Alright, rookie, time to see if you actually learned anything.”

I exhale, adjusting my apron. “No pressure, huh?”

“None at all,” he says, grinning. “Just don’t screw up too badly.”

I roll my eyes and jump into work.

I’m definitely not skilled at this.

I almost drop a cup twice, and I still hesitate every time I punch something into the register, but I’m managing.

And, weirdly… it feels somewhat familiar.

Not the café itself, but the motions. Taking orders, keeping track of things, moving quickly from one task to the next.

I don’t remember ever working in a place like this, but something about it isn’t completely foreign.

I hand another order out, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face.

Ethan watches from behind the counter, smirking. “See? Not bad for a rookie.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t jinx it.”

He chuckles. “No promises.”

The day passes by pretty quickly once the rush starts, and before long, we’re locking up for the night.

I wipe down the last table, stretching my sore arms. “That was… a lot.”

Ethan chuckles, flipping the sign to CLOSED. “Told you it picks up.”

I sigh, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, yeah. You win.”

He smirks. “I always win.”

I roll my eyes, too tired to argue. “So,” I say, crossing my arms. “Am I officially hired, or was this all just free labor?”

Ethan grins. “Congrats, rookie. You’re in.”

“Yay,” I say unenthusiastically, stretching out my sore arms.

Ethan chuckles. “Try to contain your excitement.”

“Yeah, yeah. So… what exactly am I being paid?” I ask, realizing I never actually thought to ask before agreeing to this.

He smirks. “Oh, you wanted to be paid?”

I stare at him, deadpan. “Haha.”

He laughs, tossing me a rag to finish wiping down the counter. “Don’t worry, you’ll get a normal paycheck. I’m not a monster.”

“Debatable,” I mutter.

“I can hear you,” Ethan says, smirking.

I gasp dramatically. “Oh no, whatever will I do?”

He leans against the counter, crossing his arms. “You should be scared. I have the power to make your life very annoying.”

I roll my eyes. “Pretty sure you’re already doing that.”

He grins. “Then I must be doing something right.”

“Alright, seriously,” I say, crossing my arms. “What’s the pay?”

Ethan smirks but finally gives a real answer. “$16 an hour, plus tips.”

I blink. “Wait, seriously?”

He shrugs. “Hey, I’m not completely terrible. We actually pay decently here.”

I nod slowly, processing that. It’s not amazing, but it’s way better than I expected.

“Plus,” he adds, “if you stick around long enough, we might even bump you up to $17. But, y’know, only if you survive the trial period.”

I sigh. “Right. No pressure or anything.”

Ethan grins. “None at all.”

“Alright, so we’re done for the day. Now what?” I ask, already hoping the answer is go home and sleep.

Ethan stretches, cracking his neck. “Now we clean for tomorrow.”

I stare at him. “Oh.”

He smirks. “What, you thought closing just meant flipping the sign and walking out?”

“…I was hoping,” I admit.

He laughs. “Nope. Welcome to the glamorous world of food service.”

I sigh, grabbing a rag. “Fine. But if I pass out from exhaustion, I’m blaming you.”

Just as we finish wiping down the last table and putting everything away, I glance at the clock.

12:47 AM.

“Jeez,” I mutter, rubbing my eyes. “Didn’t realize it was this late.”

Ethan yawns, stretching his arms behind his head. “Yeah, closing shifts kinda suck. You get used to it, though.”

I groan. “Great. Something to look forward to.”

He chuckles. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. You’re probably about to drop.”

Bus time, I think, already dreading the wait.

But as we step outside and Ethan locks up the café, he walks right past the sidewalk—

And steps up to a car.

I stop, blinking. “Wait… you have a car?”

He smirks over his shoulder. “What, you thought I walked everywhere?”

I cross my arms. “Honestly? Yeah.”

He chuckles, unlocking the doors. “Well, you’re in luck, because I’m not making you take the bus at almost 1 AM. Get in.”

I hesitate for a second, but… he’s got a point. The bus this late would be a nightmare.

I sigh, pulling the passenger door open. “Fine. But if you play anything obnoxious on the radio, I’m jumping out.”

Ethan grins. “Noted.”

I slide into the passenger seat, pulling the door shut as Ethan starts the car. The engine hums to life, and the soft glow of the dashboard lights up his face.

“So,” he says, shifting into drive, “how’s it feel? First real day on the job, first ride in your boss’s car. Big milestones.”

I groan, leaning my head against the window. “If you keep calling yourself my boss, I’m jumping out at the next red light.”

He chuckles, pulling onto the road.

The city at night feels different—quieter, stretched out. I watch the streetlights blur past, my exhaustion catching up with me. The warmth of the car, the quiet hum of the road…

For the first time in a while, I don’t feel like I’m constantly running.

I exhale, letting my body relax slightly.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

Ethan glances at me, raising an eyebrow. “For what?”

I shift in my seat, staring at the passing streets. “The job. The ride. The… I dunno. Not making things worse.”

He’s quiet for a second, then smirks. “Wow. High praise. I’ll take it.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no real bite to it.

For now, I just let the city pass by.

The drive goes by faster than I expect, the quiet hum of the car and the blur of streetlights almost lulling me into a half-asleep daze.

Before I know it, Ethan pulls into a parking lot and shuts off the engine.

“Alright, we’re here,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt.

I blink, glancing up at the building. It’s a decent-sized apartment complex, not super fancy, but way better than anywhere I’ve been sleeping lately.

Ethan steps out, stretching. I follow, feeling a little out of place as I glance around.

“This is you?” I ask, still processing the fact that I’m actually staying here now.

“Yup.” He locks the car, then smirks. “Try not to look so shocked.”

I shake my head. “It’s just… a lot.”

He nods toward the entrance. “C’mon. You can panic about life inside, where there’s heat.”

I sigh and follow him in.

Ethan leads the way inside, the apartment building quiet this late at night.

The lobby is simple neutral colors, clean, nothing fancy. No weird smells, no sketchy people hanging around. Just a normal place.

We take the stairs up a couple of floors before stopping at a door.

Ethan unlocks it and pushes it open.

“Welcome to Casa de Ethan,” he says with a grin, stepping aside so I can walk in first.

I hesitate for a second before finally stepping inside.

And… it’s surprisingly normal.

A decent sized living room, a small kitchen to the right, a hallway leading to what I assume is a bedroom and bathroom. It’s lived in but not messy, a few dishes in the sink, a jacket thrown over the back of the couch, a couple of game controllers on the coffee table.

It’s… comfortable.

“You expecting a bachelor pad disaster?” Ethan teases, kicking off his shoes.

I shrug. “Honestly? A little. You’ve certainly built yourself up as somewhat of a playboy.”

He chuckles, walking toward the hallway. “Alright, so here’s the deal you take my room, I’ll crash on the couch.” He nods toward the door at the end of the hall. “Bed’s already made, bathroom’s next to it. Should be extra towels in there too.”

I stare at him. “You’re serious? After you made a whole point on the offer being ‘just a couch’?”

Ethan leans against the wall, arms crossed. “Yep. And I’m gonna order a pizza since neither of us have eaten.”

I hesitate again. “I don’t exactly have money.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry I’ll take it out of your paycheck.”

I squint at him. “That’s literally stealing.”

He grins. “No, that’s employee benefits.”

“Am I getting charged for shelter too?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Ethan smirks. “Maybe.”

I narrow my eyes. “How much is rent?”

He chuckles. “We’ll discuss rates after you’ve worked a full week.”

I groan, dropping onto the couch. “Scammer.”

He grins, already pulling out his phone. “I’m gonna call them what do you want?”

I sigh, accepting my fate. “Just get whatever. As long as it’s food, I don’t care.”

Ethan nods. “Got it one overpriced pizza coming right up.”

I pull out the journal, flipping to a blank page to mark down my first day.
• Got a job (somehow).
• Ethan is technically my boss but didn’t tell me right away because he’s a menace.
• Made it through the lunch rush without breaking anything.
• Now apparently living here.
• Pizza is part of my paycheck, apparently.
I sigh, tapping the pen against the page.

“What’s that?” Ethan asks, flopping onto the couch after finishing the order.

I glance up. “Journal. Doctor gave it to me to write stuff down in case I remember anything.”

He tilts his head. “And? Any big revelations?”

I scoff. “Other than the fact that I’m way too trusting? No.”

Ethan grins. “Hey, could be worse. You could’ve ended up working for someone way less cool.”

I roll my eyes. “Debatable.”

Ethan leans over slightly, trying to peek at what I’m writing.

I tilt the journal away. “Eyes to yourself.”

He smirks. “What, afraid I’ll see all the nice things you secretly think about me?”

I give him a flat look. “Yes, that’s exactly it. I was just writing a heartfelt sonnet about how amazing you are.”

He chuckles. “Figured.”

Shaking my head, I go back to my notes. There’s nothing new, no sudden flashes of memory, no voices. Just… today.

A normal, regular day.

And honestly? That’s strange in itself.

Ever since I woke up in that alley, it’s been constant confusion—the shelter, the weird dreams, the shadows. But today?

Today just felt like a normal life.

Ethan stretches, leaning back on the couch. “Pizza should be here in like twenty minutes.”

I nod, closing the journal. “Cool.”

For a moment, we just sit there, the quiet hum of the city outside filling the space.

“How about a movie?” he says, grabbing the remote.

“What exactly do you have in mind?” I ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

Ethan smirks, flipping through a streaming menu. “Well, that depends. Are you in the mood for mind-blowing action, a deep emotional journey, or something so bad it’s good?”

I cross my arms. “I feel like if I leave this decision to you, I’m gonna regret it.”

He chuckles. “Probably. But that’s half the fun.”

I sigh. “Alright, let’s hear your top picks.”

He leans forward, scrolling dramatically. “Option one Over the top explosions, terrible one liners, and zero logic.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Sounds great.”

“Option two Something critically acclaimed that’ll make you question your entire existence.”

I squint. “Why would I want that?”

Ethan shrugs. “You’re already having an identity crisis. Might as well commit.”

I glare at him.

He grins. “And option three the absolute worst movie I can find, purely for entertainment value.”

I hesitate, then sigh. “That one.”

His grin widens. “Knew you had good taste.”

“Next time, I’m picking.”

Ethan smirks, not even looking away from the screen. “So there’s a next time?”

I pause, realizing what I just said.

I cross my arms. “This isn’t a date.”

He chuckles. “I didn’t say it was.”

I narrow my eyes. “You implied it.”

He grins. “Did I? Or are you just overthinking it?”

I groan, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at him. “Just start the stupid movie.”

Ethan laughs, dodging the pillow effortlessly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Seriously? Dirty Dancing?” I stare at the screen in disbelief. “You said the absolute worst movie you could find!”

Ethan grins. “Exactly.”

I groan, sinking back into the couch. “This is just an excuse for you to watch something you secretly like, isn’t it?”

He smirks. “I’ll never admit to that.”

I roll my eyes. “Unbelievable.”

“Hey, you picked option three. You just made an assumption.”

I glare at him. “I hate you.”

He chuckles, pressing play. “Nobody puts Artemis in a corner.”

I squint at him. “I’m right. You definitely secretly love this movie otherwise, you wouldn’t be quoting it.”

Ethan raises an eyebrow. “How do you even remember that it’s a quote?”

I freeze for a second.

My mind goes completely blank.

How do I remember that?

“Honestly? I don’t know.” I frown, shifting slightly. “But amnesia is weird. People still remember, like, what the United States is and stuff. It’s not like they forget everything just… personal stuff.”

Ethan nods slowly, studying me. “So, pop culture and random quotes? Still in there. But your own life? Gone.”

I exhale. “I guess.”

He leans back, thoughtful. “That’s gotta be frustrating.”

I scoff. “Understatement of the year.”

Ethan smirks. “Well, at least you remembered something important.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

He gestures toward the screen as the movie starts.

“That Dirty Dancing is an absolute classic.”

I groan. “Oh my god, just watch the movie.”

Ethan just laughs, clearly pleased with himself, before finally settling in.

I sigh, pulling the blanket up around me as the movie starts.

For a while, we actually watch in silence—which is shocking, considering how much he likes to talk.

“You know,” Ethan says, glancing at me, “if you really wanted, I could teach you how to dance like that.”

I turn my head slowly. “Absolutely not.”

He smirks. “What, scared I’ll drop you?”

I scoff. “More like scared I’ll punch you if you try to lift me.”

Ethan chuckles. “Fine, fine. Offer’s on the table, though.”

I roll my eyes and focus back on the movie, but I can still feel his grin lingering.

This guy is insufferable.

Of course, he picked this.

Whether the flirting is just to mess with me or actually real, it’s no less frustrating.

I cross my arms, trying to focus on the movie instead of whatever game he’s playing.

Ethan, of course, just looks way too pleased with himself, completely relaxed like he’s having the best night ever.

I exhale slowly. Just get through the movie, Artemis. Ignore him. You can do this.

The doorbell rings, cutting through the moment.

Ethan immediately perks up. “Saved by the pizza.”

I narrow my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean? Were you planning something?”

He chuckles, standing up. “Maybe.” He heads to the door, grabbing his wallet.

As he opens it, I call after him, “If you tip less than five bucks, I’m judging you.”

He glances back, smirking. “I always tip good on dates.” Then, after a beat, “And for things that aren’t dates.”

I grab a pillow and throw it at him.

He dodges, laughing. “Gotta be faster than that, rookie.”

I groan, crossing my arms as Ethan opens the door.

He exchanges a few words with the delivery guy, hands over the cash (including a tip, I make sure to check), and grabs the pizza before kicking the door shut with his foot.

Turning back to me, he holds up the box with a grin. “Hope you’re hungry.”

I roll my eyes but sit up, reaching for it. “Starving.”

He moves it out of reach.

I glare. “Ethan.”

He smirks. “Magic word?”

I narrow my eyes. “If you make me say ‘please’ just to get a slice of pizza, I swear—”

He laughs, finally dropping the box onto the coffee table. “Relax, I’m not that evil.”

I open it immediately, the smell hitting me all at once. “Oh my god.”

Ethan grabs a slice and flops back onto the couch. “Better than shelter food?”

I give him a flat look but take a bite.

It’s really good.

I sigh, leaning back. “Fine. I’ll admit it. This is the best thing that’s happened to me all day.”

Ethan grins. “See? I do make life better.”

I shake my head, grabbing another slice. “Don’t push it.”

“You like me, don’t lie,” Ethan says, grinning. “My rugged good looks, my suave charm I’m irresistible.”

I take a slow bite of pizza, staring at him blankly. “Uh-huh.”

His grin widens. “See? You didn’t even deny it.”

I sigh dramatically. “You’re exhausting.”

He smirks, leaning back, “you’re still here.”

I roll my eyes. “Because I have nowhere else to go.”

Ethan gasps, placing a hand over his chest. “Wow. Way to make it sound tragic.”

I smirk. “If the shoe fits.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be so much fun to mess with.”

I groan. “Great. Can’t wait.”

“I’ll get some drinks,” Ethan says, standing up and stretching.

I nod, still focused on my pizza. “Nothing weird.”

He pauses, smirking. “Define ‘weird.’”

I glare. “Ethan.”

He chuckles, walking toward the kitchen. “What’s wrong with alcohol?”

I blink. “I don’t even know if I’m old enough to actually drink.”

Ethan grins, leaning against the fridge. “That’s the perfect excuse.”

I sigh, rubbing my temples. “Absolutely not.”

He laughs, grabbing a couple of sodas instead. “Fine, fine. But I will be celebrating when we figure out your birthday.”

I shake my head, taking the can when he tosses it to me. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

“What, you don’t think you’ll still be my friend by then?” Ethan asks, plopping back onto the couch.

I crack open the soda, smirking. “I’m not sure if you’ll live that long.”

He grins. “Threats?”

I take a sip. “Observations.”

Ethan chuckles, shaking his head. “Damn. You’re meaner than you look.”

I shrug. “You bring it out of me.”

He raises his can. “To a long and hopefully painless friendship.”

I roll my eyes but clink my can against his. “No promises.”

We watch the movie mostly in silence, the occasional comment here and there but nothing too distracting.

Then, Cry to Me starts playing.

I immediately realize what scene this is.

I glance over at Ethan, feeling my face heat up a bit as the movie gets… well, intense.

Without missing a beat, he casually drapes his arm over my shoulder—the cheesiest move ever.

I stare at him. “Seriously?”

He grins. “Just getting into the spirit of the movie.”

I narrow my eyes. “This is literally the worst timing.”

“Or the best timing,” he counters, smirking.

I sigh, debating whether to shove his arm off or pretend it’s not happening.

Ethan doesn’t move his arm, and as the scene continues, he leans in slightly.

“You know,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing, “if this was a date, this would be the perfect moment.”

I scoff, trying to ignore the way my face gets even warmer. “Good thing it’s not, then.”

He chuckles. “You keep saying that, but you’re not exactly pushing me away.”

I glance at him, fully prepared to argue, but… I don’t.

Because, if I’m being completely honest…

I kind of like it.

The way he teases, the way he’s just a little too smooth for his own good. It’s annoying, but at the same time…

It’s nice. Comfortable, in a weird way.

I roll my eyes, leaning back slightly. “You’re insufferable.”

Ethan smirks. “Yet you’re still watching this movie with me.”

“Unfortunately...” I say.

At this point, our faces are close, our breaths mixing in the small space between us.

My heart pounds.

Ethan’s smirk fades just slightly, his teasing edge softening into something else as he leans in.

I freeze, my mind going completely blank.

Is this really happening?

Do I… want it to happen?

Ethan leans in closer, his breath warm against my skin.

I don’t move. I can’t.

My heart pounds so loudly I’m sure he can hear it.

His eyes flicker to mine, almost like he’s waiting, giving me a chance to pull away.

But I don’t.

I should.

I don’t.

The space between us disappears—

Then—

A loud knock at the door.

I jump back, face burning as Ethan lets out a groan, dropping his head against the couch. “Are you kidding me?”

I exhale, pressing a hand to my very warm face. “You should probably get that.”

Ethan grumbles, standing up and heading to the door.

I take the moment to breathe, trying to figure out what the hell just almost happened.

On the bright side, I got to see his reaction to the interruption.

Ethan looked genuinely annoyed, which honestly? Kind of satisfying.

But as I sit there, still trying to cool down, another thought creeps in.

Who the hell is knocking at this hour?

I glance at the clock.

1:42 AM.

Ethan reaches the door, hesitating for a second before unlocking it.

The moment it swings open his entire posture changes.

Before I can even process what’s happening, a shadowy figure grabs him and throws him across the room like he weighs nothing.

I barely manage to get up before the figure turns toward me.

“Ethan!”

He groans, struggling to push himself up from where he crashed against the floor.

My heart pounds as the figure steps toward me.

Without thinking, I grab the nearest thing, a lamp off the side table raising it like a weapon.

“Stay back!” I shout, my grip tightening around the base.

The figure doesn’t stop.

It moves slowly, deliberately, the dim light casting unnatural shadows across its body.

I take a step back, my breath coming fast.

What the hell is happening?

I swing as hard as I can, the lamp cutting through the air.

But…

It goes straight through the figure like it’s not even there.

Before I can react, a cold, crushing force slams into me.

Everything blurs.

And suddenly.

I’m back on the couch.

Ethan is right there, our faces close, his breath mixing with mine.

Like nothing happened.

Like I never moved.

My heart is still racing, my body tense, but wasn’t I just…?

I jerk back.

“What the hell?!”

Ethan blinks, looking confused. “Uh… you okay?”

I stare at him, my breathing uneven, my mind trying to catch up.

What the hell just happened?

I push off the couch, heart pounding, and move straight to the front door.

Ethan calls after me. “Artemis? What—?”

I ignore him, my hands shaking as I press my eye to the peephole.

The hallway outside is empty.

No shadowy figure.

No signs of what just happened.

Just… nothing.

But I know what I saw.

I know what I felt.

Ethan steps up behind me. “What are you doing?”

I swallow hard, still staring out the peephole like something might just appear.

“Did you hear a knock?” I ask, my voice quieter than I expect.

Ethan pauses. “No?”

I slowly step back from the door.

Did I just… imagine it?

“I’m sorry I pushed you, I—” Ethan starts, rubbing the back of his neck.

I shake my head. “No, it’s not that. I just…”

His brows furrow, his usual cocky demeanor gone. “Did you remember something?”

I hesitate, still feeling the lingering cold from whatever just happened.

“Not really.” I exhale slowly. “I saw something, but it wasn’t a memory.”

Ethan studies me for a second. “What do you mean?”

I glance back at the door, half expecting it to fly open.

“I mean… I was just over there, fighting something.” I swallow hard. “And then suddenly, I was back here. Like it never happened.”

Ethan doesn’t joke.

For once, he looks serious.

“Artemis,” he says carefully. “What exactly did you see?”

"There was a knock on the door," I say, still trying to process it myself. "A shadow guy attacked us he grabbed you, threw you across the room, and then came at me."

Ethan’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t interrupt.

I take a shaky breath. "I tried to hit him, but my swing just went straight through him… And when he hit me—" I shake my head. "Suddenly, I was back on the couch. Like nothing happened. Like no time passed at all."

Ethan stares at me, silent for a long moment.

"What the hell?”

“My thoughts exactly…” I mutter, rubbing my arms as a chill lingers over me.

But as much as I want to believe what I saw, there’s only one logical conclusion.

“I’m going crazy,” I say under my breath. “Hallucinating or something. That’s the only explanation.”

Ethan frowns, crossing his arms. “You don’t seem crazy to me.”

I let out a dry laugh. “That’s exactly what a crazy person would want you to think.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, but this wasn’t just some weird dream? You seemed like you almost were about to fall asleep before the pizza showed up.”

I hesitate, because was it? A dream? A stress induced vision?

…Or was it real?

I sigh, rubbing my temples. “I guess it must’ve been.”

Even as I say it, the words feel off.

The timing wasn’t great I definitely wasn’t asleep, but I guess… daydreaming is possible. Stress, exhaustion, whatever.

I exhale slowly. “Sorry for ruining the moment.”

Ethan smiles a little, shaking his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His voice is softer than usual, none of his usual teasing edge.

“I mean,” he continues, “it’s not like you chose for that to happen to you.”

I look at him for a second, feeling an odd warmth in my chest.

Ethan might be infuriating, but… he’s not wrong.

“I should probably get some rest,” I say, rubbing my arms.

Ethan nods. “Yeah, you’ve had a long day. You deserve the rest.”

I glance at him. “Thanks.” I pause, shifting slightly. “Really. For everything.”

He gives me a small smile, softer than usual. “Anytime.”

I stop in front of him for a second, my heart pounding—

Then, before I can overthink it, I lean in and kiss him quickly.

It’s brief, barely a second.

I pull back, my face warm, and walk away before he can say anything, slipping into the bedroom and shutting the door behind me.

I lean against it, heart racing.

What the hell did I just do?

I exhale, pressing my back against the door as I try to steady myself.

Shaking off the thoughts threatening to spiral, I move toward the bed.

I should write down everything that happened tonight.

The weird shadow guy. The sudden reset.

And…

I stare at the page for a second before slowly writing…

I kissed Ethan.

My face heats up all over again.

I shake my head and keep going, focusing on what actually matters.

If what I saw wasn’t just a hallucination, then…

What the hell is happening to me?

I mean, there’s no way it wasn’t a hallucination… right?

And yet…

It felt so real…

The cold when it hit me. The weight of the lamp in my hands. The sheer force when Ethan was thrown across the room.

Do hallucinations feel like that?

I tap the pen against the paper, staring at what I’ve written.

If it was just in my head, why did it feel like I was actually there? Like I was living it?

I shake my head. I’m overthinking.

It has to be stress. Exhaustion. A brain trying to fill in the blanks where memories should be.

…Right?

But then if it wasn’t real why does saying that feel so wrong…

Tomorrow, I meet the caseworker.

Six days until my next psych visit assuming I’m not completely insane by then.

I sigh, shutting the journal and setting it aside.

It’s late. I’m exhausted. And thinking about this more isn’t going to magically make it make sense.

I crawl into bed, pulling the blanket over me.

For now, I just need to sleep.

Maybe when I wake up, everything will feel normal again.

I close my eyes, willing myself to sleep.

But it doesn’t come easily.

My mind keeps replaying everything the knock, the shadow, the way it felt real and then suddenly… wasn’t.

And the kiss.

I groan, burying my face in the pillow. Why did I do that?

Ethan’s probably smirking to himself right now, acting like he won some kind of game.

I exhale slowly, forcing myself to let it go.

Tomorrow, I meet the caseworker.

That’s what matters.

That’s what I need to focus on.

Eventually, exhaustion wins, and I drift into sleep.

And then I start dreaming.

It’s dark, but not like night, more like a void, stretching endlessly in every direction.

Footsteps echo somewhere ahead.

I turn, but there’s nothing just that endless emptiness.

“Artemis… run.”

My blood runs cold.

I know that voice.

I don’t know how, but I do.

I try to move, but my body won’t respond.

The darkness around me starts to shift something forming, something wrong.

End of chapter 2.