CHAPTER 1
ASTRID
People talk about Paris like it’s a dream.
For me, it feels more like a dare.
The boarding pass gets checked again.
First class. An entire month of ramen sacrificed for this seat, and not a single regret.
Breathe, Astrid. You’ve waited all your life for this day.
Heat bites through the cardboard sleeve of a double-shot espresso from the café across from the gate, grounding me as my fingers curl tighter around the cup.
For a moment, everything slows.
What if I get to Paris and open a door that was locked for a reason?
The thought tightens in my chest.
My grip shifts as my breath comes too fast.
I never see it coming.
A sudden impact slams into my side.
The world lurches. Burning liquid surges over the rim of the cup and straight down my wrist, heat sharp and immediate.
“Shit,” I hiss, yanking my hand back on instinct.
“Oh my God,” a woman cries. “I am so sorry. He just ran off.”
A small boy clings to her leg, staring at me like he’d do it again if I test him.
So this is how I die. Taken out by a tiny human. Velcro shoes and zero remorse.
“It’s fine,” I lie.
My wrist throbs like a pulse under my skin, the flesh already screaming, heat blooming beneath the surface.
The woman hustles her child away, apologies trailing behind her. I cradle my wrist against my chest.
“Fuck. Shit. Fuck!,” I whisper to myself.
The ache doesn’t fade.
I press my lips together, blinking hard as tears prick the backs of my eyes.
“Here.”
A man crouches in front of me, holding a small cup of melting ice. He’s tall even folded down to my level.
He moves with quiet purpose, like he already decided what to do.
Zero hesitation.
I didn’t see or hear him approach.
