What if they’resleepingwith her?
The image hits like a fist to the gut, and I double over.
No. No, they wouldn’t—
But how would they know?
She has my face. My voice. Maybe even my memories if the mirror showed her everything.
They’d have no reason to suspect.
And I’m trapped here, with no way to tell them, no way to get back, no way to stop her from—
The floor tilts under me, and I sit down hard, pressing my palms to the stone.
Breathe. Just breathe.
But I can’t stop spiraling.
Because if time doesn’t work, then I have no anchor. No way to know if I’ve been here for minutes while she’s had weeks with them. No way to know if they’re still looking or if they’ve already forgotten I’m gone.
No way to know if she’s already in my bed. In their arms. Taking everything that was supposed to bemine.
The thought makes me want to scream.
But I shove it down. Force it back.
Because falling apart won’t help.
Won’t get me out of here.
Won’t stop whatever Riley’s doing.
I just have to survive.
Get back.
And pray I’m not too late.
“Stop it,” I whisper. “Stop.”
But the fear doesn’t stop.
It builds and builds until I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but sit there and shake.
Then—
A blanket appears on the couch.
I freeze.
It wasn’t there before. I know it wasn’t.
But now it is. Dark velvet, folded neatly, like someone just placed it there.
I didn’t hear footsteps. Didn’t feel anyone enter.
But someone did.
