Amelia's heart slammed against her ribs. Dead? That couldn't be true. It was impossible. She was standing here, breathing, thinking—alive.
Footsteps echoed behind them, slow and deliberate.
Samuel grabbed her wrist. "We need to go."
But Amelia yanked her hand free, panic and confusion swirling in her chest. "No. I need to know the truth! If I'm dead, then what am I?"
Samuel's expression darkened. "I don't know. But if they find you first, you'll never find out."
A cold gust of wind swept through the alley. The footsteps grew louder.
Amelia turned just as a figure emerged from the shadows.
Lucas.
His dark eyes gleamed under the flickering streetlamp. "She knows now, doesn't she?" His voice was almost amused.
Samuel stepped in front of Amelia. "We're leaving."
Lucas tilted his head, as if considering. "That's not your decision to make."
Then he raised his hand.
A sharp, searing pain shot through Amelia's skull. She gasped, stumbling backward. Images flooded her mind—
A cold body. Water. Her own reflection, pale and lifeless. Hands pulling her under.
She clutched her head, her knees giving out.
Lucas took a step closer. "Let it in, Amelia. Remember."
Samuel pulled her to her feet. "Don't listen to him!" He turned to Lucas, his voice sharp. "She's not yours to take."
Lucas smiled. "You still don't get it, do you, Samuel?" His gaze flicked to Amelia. "She's not supposed to be here. But she came back anyway."
Samuel's grip tightened on Amelia's arm. "Run."
For a second, she hesitated.
Then—she ran.
Her breath came in ragged gasps as she tore through the alley, her mind spinning. She had died. She had drowned. But she was here.
How? Why?
She didn't have the answers.
But something told her that if Lucas caught her—she never would.
To be continued…