1. THE WEIGHT OF MORNING

The forest blurred past her.

Trees. Branches. Shadows. All of it bleeding together in a rush of green and brown and darkness.

She didn’t know how long she’d been running. She didn’t know where she was going. She only knew that she couldn’t stop.

Her heart was pounding. Her chest tight, throat dry… Her bare feet slammed against the cold earth, sending jolts of pain up her legs.

She could hear everything. The rustle of leaves. The snap of twigs. The distant howl of a wild animal deep in the forest. 

She could smell everything. The damp earth. The pine needles. The copper tang of blood in the air.

Blood?

She looked down. Her hands were covered in it. Red and wet and everywhere.

Whose blood?

She didn’t remember. She couldn’t remember.

Something crashed through the trees behind her.

Selene didn’t look back. She couldn’t afford to. She just ran.

Her body was moving faster than it should have. Her legs carried her farther with every stride, faster than should have been scientifically possible.

And her necklace—the one she always wore—was gone.

She reached up, felt the bare skin of her throat, and panic exploded in her chest.

No, no, no—

She remembered pulling it off. Remembered the heat. Remembered the screaming.

And then—nothing.

The forest grew darker. The trees grew thicker. Selene stumbled, caught herself, kept running. The thing behind her was still coming.

She could feel it.

And then—

The ground disappeared beneath her feet. She was falling.

Darkness.

*****

OVER A YEAR AGO

*****

Her eyes fluttered open, heavy and tired. The ceiling was familiar—the same crack in the plaster she’d stared at a thousand times. Soft morning light streamed through the curtains, the sun just beginning to creep across the room. Everything was normal. Exactly as it should be.

And yet—something felt off.

She lay still for a long moment, trying to place it. Her head was foggy, her thoughts sluggish. Her limbs felt heavy, like she’d been running in her sleep. There was a strange weight in her chest, an unease that she couldn’t quite shake.

She blinked, frowning at the ceiling.

Did I have a dream?

She tried to remember, but there was nothing. Just darkness and a strange blank space in her memory.

No. Wait.

There was something. An unfamiliar voice. A blur of movement. The sound of her own heartbeat, exhilaration coursing through her veins.

And running. She was running.

She pushed herself up slowly, rubbing her temples. The unease lingered, but she pushed it down. It was just a dream. A weird dream she couldn’t quite remember.

It happened sometimes. It wasn’t a big deal.

But she didn’t completely believe it.

*****

Selene swung her legs out of bed and staggered into the kitchen.

The floorboards creaked under her weight, a familiar sound she’d heard every morning for as long as she could remember. The house was small, cramped, and older than she was, but it had always been home. Hattie had made sure of that. 

Hattie was already there, wrapped in her favorite shawl, its material thinning with age due to her refusal to throw it away. She was seated at the small kitchen table, a cup of tea steaming in her hands, her sharp eyes fixed on Selene the moment she walked in.

“You look drunk.”

Selene almost choked, “Good morning Grandma.” 

She wasn’t surprised by her grandma’s words. Hattie had never had a mouth filter. She said the first thing that came to her mind. Selene always joked that she was born in the wrong generation.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I guess,” Selene shrugged. 

Hattie’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t push. She never did. She just watched, her eyes always noticing things her mouth would never say.

Selene moved to the counter, grabbing her favorite mug from the drying rack. It was chipped at the rim, the paint faded from years of use. The words “best girl” were already fading from years of constant washing.

She made herself a cup of coffee, the rich aroma filling the small kitchen. Then she reached for the small jar on the shelf—the one with the dried herbs Hattie always insisted she use.

She sprinkled a pinch into her coffee, watching the dried leaves swirl in the dark liquid before dissolving. Hattie had been giving them to her for as long as she could remember. She said it was to “keep her healthy” and “calm her nerves.” 

Though, considering how anxious she always was, Selene doubted its effectiveness.

Taking a long sip from her mug, she gazed absentmindedly into the empty space, her mind on nothing and everything at once.

“Did you take it off?” Hattie asked.

Selene looked up. “Take what off?”

Hattie watched her from across the room. Her gaze lingered on the jar, then moved to Selene’s neck.

“Your necklace, where is it?” 

“Oh—I didn’t,” Selene replied, pulling the necklace out from beneath her pajama top.

“Good.”

Selene rolled her eyes at her grandma’s protectiveness. “You’re such a drama queen.”

“And that’s not changing anytime soon.”

Selene rolled her eyes. “I won’t take it off. Happy?”

Hattie smiled, her playfulness returning. “Happier.”

Selene downed the rest of her coffee quickly, washing her cup and returning it to its place. The week had only just begun.

*****

The rest of the morning played out like it always did. A ritual as familiar as breathing.

“Grandma, you have to take your pills. They’re not optional.” This was the part of their morning ritual that required the most patience. Some days, Selene had to practically give her grandmother a pep talk just to get her to take her medication. Hattie suffered from lung problems, but with how worried Selene always was, you’d think it was the other way around.

“I’m fine, you worry too much,” Grandma Hattie waved a dismissive hand, deliberately flexing her biceps to prove her point, though the slight tremble of her hand almost gave her away.

“Well, the doctor says you’re not supposed to miss them.” She popped the pills into a tiny container, filled a glass with water, and carried them into the living room.

Hattie rolled her eyes, letting out a loud sigh, “You really nag a lot for a twenty-five-year-old.”

I agree, a snarky, uninvited voice added in Selene’s head. You have to learn to chill out.

“Shut up,” Selene muttered aloud in reply.

Normal people would have thought they were going crazy. Not Selene. The voice in her head was normal. At least it had been for as long as she could remember. 

“I can hear you mumbling from out here, how many times do I have to tell you to stop talking to yourself?” Hattie said exasperatedly.

“I didn’t say anything Grandma,” she replied, walking back into the living room and giving her grandma a kiss on her temple, while touching her cheeks as she would fondly do. “I’m leaving for work already,” Selene added, hugging Hattie from behind the sofa.

“You’re always working. You never have any time for yourself,” Hattie muttered, reaching for the remote. “If you keep going this way, I’ll die before I see you go on a date.”

Selene nearly choked. “Grandma!”

“What? I’m old, not blind. I know these things,” Hattie said with a wink.

“Please stop,” Selene groaned, a faint blush staining her cheeks. She quickly walked away to avoid the rest of the conversation. 

Selene returned to her room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She checked herself in the mirror, reapplied her lip gloss, and mentally prepared for the day ahead.

Satisfied with her appearance, she grabbed her wallet from the bed before heading back into the living room.

“And don’t forget to take your meds this afternoon,” Selene reminded, pointing her finger at her grandma to serve as a warning. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Hattie muttered with mock obedience, already reaching for the snacks beside her instead.

You should hurry up if you want to keep your ‘perfect attendance’. Selene heard in her head.

“You know, for something that’s clearly not real, you always have a lot to say,” she replied, closing the door behind her.

“I should name you,” Selene said, a mischievous smile spreading across her face.

No.

“Yes.”

Absolutely not.

“How about Nyx?”

I hate it.

“I know you do,” Selene said, grinning. “Nyx it is.”

Just hurry up, or we’ll be late for our daily jail sentence. Nyx sighed dramatically.

By “jail sentence,” Nyx meant Blackwood Corps.

Blackwood Corps was a towering corporate empire in the heart of modern-day Ravenwood City. It was one of those structures that seemed to dominate everything around it, a monument to wealth and power and everything Selene didn’t have.

She’d worked there for years, starting as an intern, moving up to junior associate, and eventually becoming the Junior Manager of the Marketing Department. It wasn’t a glamorous position or the kind of job that made people sit up and take notice. But it was a job, and it paid the bills.

Barely.

The morning air was thick, cutting through the thin fabric of her coat as she sprinted into the local cafe. She grabbed her coffee from the barista, nearly burning her fingers in the process, before racing toward the bus stop.

She squeezed between two tired-looking women and gripped the metal pole as the bus jerked forward. The driver slammed on the accelerator, and Selene stumbled, catching herself just in time.

Outside the fogged-up window, the city was already awake. Endless honking. Endless movement. Endless people trying to survive, just like her. Workers hurried past one another as though the city would collapse if they slowed down for even a second.

She stared at the blur of buildings and people, her mind wandering. The strange dream from last night was still lingering at the edges of her thoughts, a ghost she couldn’t quite shake.

What was I running from?

She didn’t have an answer.

Her phone buzzed. She glanced down.

HOSPITAL PAYMENT REMINDER.

Her stomach tightened. The reminder of all the responsibilities weighing on her ate away at her slowly. The medical bills were piling up. Hattie’s medication was getting more expensive. And no matter how hard Selene worked, it was never enough.

She turned off her screen, forcing herself to breathe.

One day at a time.

She could handle one day at a time.

At least, that was what she kept telling herself.

She had no idea how much her life was about to change.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

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