By Tuesday, I was on my way back to the university, driving my own car. After a full Monday spent relearning how to not destroy anything while behind the wheel, James had finally declared me roadworthy. I wasn't sure if he was just tired of being my chauffeur or genuinely thought I was ready. Either way, here I was, cruising down the highway like I'd been driving my whole life—except for the occasional panic when I had to switch lanes.
Adam hadn't called. Or texted. Not even a smoke signal.
Yet I was refreshing my phone like an idiot every five minutes. This was embarrassing. I barely knew the guy and he had me acting like some lovesick teenager waiting for her first crush to message her. Pull it together, Crystal. You don't even like him.
Right? RIGHT?
The tiny voice in my head laughed. Sure, keep telling yourself that.
I was starting to piece things together—little fragments of who I used to be. Some things felt familiar, like driving, while others felt completely alien. I'd been searching for the necklace, the one from my faint memory of Adam, but it was nowhere to be found. Add it to the growing list of things missing from my life: my phone, my memories, and apparently, my grip on reality.
And then there were the nightmares. They kept coming back, relentless, each time shifting to a different location. The hospital. My old high school. A dark, endless street. The creature always returned, slithering out of the shadows, its sharp teeth glinting as the walls closed in around me.
It had gotten so bad that I resorted to making Penny—tiny, adorable Penny—sleep beside me. Did I feel ridiculous asking a child to be my emotional support human? Yes. But did I sleep like a baby when she was there? Also, yes. And you know what? No dreams were better than waking up screaming, so judge me all you want.
By the time I reached my apartment, I was mentally exhausted. I parked and sat in the car for a moment, staring at my phone.
It took me a full minute to finally drag myself out of the car and head into the house. And let me just tell you—I wish I hadn't.
The moment I stepped inside, I froze in my tracks, my jaw practically hitting the floor. Right there, smack dab in the middle of the living room, was my brother. And a girl I'd never seen before.
And they were going at it.
Tongues clashing, hands roaming—honestly, I didn't even know where to look. My brain went into immediate abort mission mode, but my feet refused to move.
"Are you serious right now?!" I finally blurted out, my voice breaking through their little... moment.
Isaac jerked back, his face going from annoyed to mortified in less than a second. The girl? She just stared at me with wide eyes, probably debating whether to run or melt into the couch.
"Crystal!" Isaac snapped, his ears turning red. "Ever heard of knocking?!"
"Ever heard of not turning the living room into a free show?!" I shot back, throwing my hands up in disbelief.
The girl mumbled something about leaving and bolted for the door faster than I could blink. Isaac groaned, rubbing his temples like he was the one who had to recover from this.
"Well, this is a memory I'll never unsee," I muttered, walking past him toward the kitchen. "Next time, use a room. Preferably one with a door you can lock."
He let out a loud, hearty laugh and trailed behind me into the kitchen. "So, how'd it go?"
"Like you don't already know," I said, crouching to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. I flicked off the cap and took a sip, the cool liquid soothing my dry throat.
"But I'd like to hear it from you," he pressed, leaning casually against the counter like he had all the time in the world.
I wiped stray droplets from my chin with the back of my hand. "Fine, I guess. Nothing much to tell—no memories, no breakthroughs, just... same old, same old." I moved toward the kitchen doorway, brushing past him. "Oh, and still not taking drugs, if that's what you're fishing for."
Isaac smirked but didn't budge. "Um, David said you were... talking to a stranger?"
That made me pause. I turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow as I secured my hair into a loose ponytail. "Yeah, so? He was just a seat buddy on the bus. Why would David even mention that? It was literally nothing."
Isaac tilted his head, his expression somewhere between casual and cautious. "David said the guy had... tattoos all over."
And there it was—that weird, overprotective big-brother tone creeping in. "Yeah, and? What, tattoos mean he's automatically trouble?"
I rolled my eyes and walked off toward my room. The door handle was cool under my palm when Isaac's voice stopped me again.
"Crystal, please... stay away from bad people. For Mum."
I turned back, half-irritated, half-bemused, and found him standing there, hands pressed together in a mock prayer pose like he was begging me for a Favour.
"For the love of—ugh, fine," I snapped, throwing my hands up. "But, for the record, he was a hot stranger. Just saying."
And with that, I slammed the door.