In many ways, it’s ironic—puzzles are meant to be assembled, not dismantled. Yet, Meera set out to do both. Maybe that’s what Gabriel meant when he said Meera had an uncanny ability to draw a picture within a picture—to craft somethingbeautiful on one side and something quietly unsettling on the other.
But that’s art, right? Something Meera was undeniably brilliant at.
Still… to weave art into real life? To blur the lines, only to tear them apart again? To design an entire puzzle around a birthmark—just to manipulate the one person who vowed to keep her daughter safe? Who vowed to love her.
That’s not just brilliant.
That’s seriously fucked up.
Which makes me wonder about her mental state. Maybe Gabriel’s suggestion—that she had two personalities—wasn’t as far-fetched as I first thought.
What if her sketches weren’t just pictures within pictures… but thoughts layered over thoughts?
Clarity hidden in chaos.
I glance down at my wrist.
It’s the only puzzle piece that’s different from the rest. A stand-alone. Like a bridge to another fragment of her mind.
I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but… what if Meera started one puzzle—and Mimi began another?
What if there’s a whole other side I haven’t seen?
Another layer. Another secret.
Waiting to be revealed.
Is that even fucking possible?
And if so… then what?
What else could she possibly be trying to tell me?
Fuck, I can’t go there.
Because if I do… if I evenentertainthis idea of a split personality, then it means there’s still one more piece to this puzzle. One more connection I haven’t made.
And goddamn it, I’m afraid to even look.
I trace my fingertips over the strange shading in the tattoo.
“Could be rain,”Gabriel had suggested.
And Noah… “Do you see the rain?”
Oh god no.
No. No. Noooo…
My eyes burn.
I squeeze them so tight that stars burst behind my lids.
I take a breath, then another.
In. Out.
Trying to ground myself. Tryingnotto see.
