Chapter 2

I collapsed into the chair and stared at the copper coin.

Then I took a deep breath, grabbed the note, and tried to examine it more closely for any flaw.

But the moment I lowered my head, the copper coin I had tossed into the corner of the coffee table suddenly flipped over by itself.

The side with the strange symbols faced up.

And among those twisted markings, I clearly saw three dark red words slowly appear.

'Return at midnight.'

“Return at midnight… return where? How?”

I stared at the time on my phone.

There was still over an hour until twelve.

But if I could really see her again, what was one year of my life?

For the past three years, every day had felt like a slow suicide anyway.

I washed my face.

In the mirror, my eyes were sunken, and I looked like an addict.

“It’s fake,” I told my reflection. “All of this is a hallucination.”

But the copper coin was heavy in my pocket, pressing against my thigh.

A moment later, I left the apartment.

For reasons I couldn’t explain, I walked toward the intersection on Central Avenue.

It had been three years.

I had never gone back.

Not because I didn’t want to.

Because I didn’t dare.

The traffic lights had been replaced. The road had been repaved. Even the convenience store on the corner had changed its sign.

But that corner, the spot where Elena had been hit, was something I could still see with my eyes closed.

I sat down on the edge of the planter by the sidewalk.

Eleven o’clock.

I took out the copper coin.

The sweat in my palm had dampened it. The smell of rust mixed with a strange, metallic tang.

Eleven twenty.

I started to wonder if I had lost my mind.

Waiting for a car that might never appear, all because of a worthless old coin.

Eleven forty.

I stood, ready to leave.

Then the copper coin in my pocket suddenly turned hot.

Not warm.

Hot.

Like a coal pulled straight from a fire.

I sucked in a sharp breath and pulled it out.

Midnight.

The coin began to tremble.

Just a faint vibration, enough to numb my palm.

I looked up.

And then I saw it.

The white sedan.

It looked exactly the way I remembered, down to the tiny scratch on the front bumper.

That scratch had been left during our first year of marriage, when Elena backed into the stone post outside our apartment complex.

She had said we should leave it there as a memory.

The car came closer.

I could see the faces behind the windshield.

Elena was in the driver’s seat.

Alive.

Her lips were moving.

She was talking.

There was someone in the passenger seat.

My gaze shifted over.

And my breath stopped.

It was me.

I was smiling, turned slightly toward Elena as I spoke to her, the corners of my mouth lifted.

This was the final stretch of road we had shared.

That day, I had told her we should go to her favorite sushi place for dinner to celebrate our third anniversary.

Then, in the next second, the whole world had shattered.

I wanted to rush out.

But my feet felt nailed to the ground.

All I could do was watch.

The car drove right past me.

Elena turned her head, her gaze sweeping over the sidewalk.

She saw me.

Then she frowned slightly, her lips moving as if she had said something.

I could not hear it.

But the version of me in the passenger seat turned to look too.

His gaze was calm.

As if he were looking at a stranger.

Then the car drove past.

I stood there, trembling all over.

The coin was real.

I had really seen her.

My phone buzzed.

I pulled it out.

A news alert lit up the screen.

'BREAKING: Vehicle in Central Avenue Crash Was Using Fake Plates. Registered Owner Died Three Years Ago'

I looked up.

The white sedan was already dozens of yards away, waiting at the red light.

The window was still down.

Then, from somewhere very close behind me, I heard someone chuckle.

“First time using a death coin, sir?”