Mara left the gas station in a daze. The cold night air felt unreal against her skin, as if she had stepped into a world slightly misaligned with the one she had always known.
The security footage had been clear. She had walked in, bought water, and left. But she had no memory of it. No recollection of stepping foot inside until just minutes ago.
It didn't make sense.
Her mind raced through explanations—sleepwalking, head trauma, stress—but none of them felt right. This wasn't just forgetfulness. Something had changed.
She reached into her coat pocket, needing something to ground herself. Her fingers brushed against something cool and smooth.
She pulled it out.
A bottle of water.
The same brand, the same slightly crinkled label as the one she had supposedly bought earlier.
Mara's breath hitched. How?
She hadn't picked up anything at the gas station. She had just been watching the footage—watching herself do it.
And yet, here it was, solid and real in her hand.
Her pulse pounded as she shoved it back into her pocket and forced herself to keep moving. The town wasn't far now. She just needed to get home, to think, to make sense of what was happening.
But before she could take another step, a movement at the edge of her vision made her freeze.
Across the street, near the darkened windows of a closed café, someone was standing there. Watching her.
A man, dressed in black, half-hidden in the shadows.
Mara's chest tightened. He wasn't moving, wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was staring directly at her.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep walking, her steps quicker now. But as she passed a lamppost and turned to glance back—
He was gone.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Not a single trace of movement. No sound. No footsteps. Just the empty street, silent and still.
A cold dread curled in her stomach.
She wasn't alone in this.
Someone was watching her.
And whoever they were, they knew something she didn't.