Transmigrated seven days before the Apocalypse

Ashley’s POV

I sat in the airport lounge with my legs crossed, a book resting in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. The steady hum of conversations and the occasional announcement over the speakers faded into the background as I lost myself in the story.

I was so engrossed that I barely noticed the people moving around me. Every few minutes, I took a sip of my coffee, turned a page, and continued reading while waiting for my flight to be called.

“That’s a good book!”

The unexpected voice made me lift my head. An older woman stood beside my seat, her silver hair neatly arranged, a warm smile stretching across her face as she glanced at the book in my hands.

I returned her smile politely. “Have you read it before?”

“Of course.” Her eyes twinkled as she looked at the cover. “Have you gotten to the last page yet?”

I glanced down at the book and ran my thumb along the edge of the remaining pages. “Not yet! Just a few more pages till I get there.” I held up the book to show her how close I was to finishing.

“Well, there’s a present waiting for every reader who gets to the last page.”

I paused, then let out a small chuckle. “A present?” I raised an eyebrow. “What could possibly be at the end of a book?”

My curiosity immediately got the better of me. I turned the book around, ready to flip to the last page and see what she was talking about. But before I could do so, the woman reached out and gently caught my hand.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

My fingers stiffened against the pages. I looked from her hand to her face, a crease forming between my eyebrows. “Why?”

“Child…” She released my hand and smiled. “There’s no need to rush to the end. Take your time.” Then she winked, turned and began walking away.

I stared after her for a few seconds. “Okay…” I muttered, slowly lowering the book into my lap. “That was… weird.”

I shook my head and returned my attention to the page where I’d stopped, determined to forget the strange encounter.

Except I couldn’t. My eyes kept drifting toward the back cover. What kind of present could possibly be hidden in a book? Was this some promotional gimmick I’d never heard of? Had the author included a surprise ending or something?

I bit the inside of my cheek. There was only one way to find out. My fingers crept toward the final pages, and I glanced around to make sure nobody was watching me. Just as I was about to open the book, a voice crackled through the airport speakers.

“Passengers boarding flight 2134, please proceed to the boarding gate. Boarding is now in progress.”

With a frustrated sigh, I shoved my coffee cup into the nearest bin, tucked the book into my bag, and grabbed my belongings. Whatever mystery that woman had been talking about would have to wait. I wasn’t about to miss an eight-hour flight because of a book.

******

A few minutes later, I was settled into my seat on the plane. I slid the window shade open and gazed at the airport beyond the glass. Ground staff moved around the aircraft while passengers shuffled into their seats, stowed their luggage, and exchanged the usual complaints about legroom.

Once everyone around me had settled down, I retrieved my book from my bag, adjusted myself against the seat, opened to the page where I’d stopped, and continued reading.

I had barely finished a paragraph when someone stopped beside my row.

“Excuse me.”

I glanced up. And nearly dropped my book. It was her, the same older woman from the airport lounge. I watched as she checked her seat number, then placed her handbag in the overhead compartment before lowering herself into the seat beside me.

You have got to be kidding me. Of all the seats on this plane, she had to be sitting next to me? She turned toward me, and our eyes met. For a moment, neither of us said anything. Then she smiled, and I returned it with a polite nod.

The plane began moving shortly afterward, and I turned my attention to the window as we taxied toward the runway. I tried to concentrate on the scenery outside, but my gaze kept sliding toward the woman beside me. She sat quietly.

I lasted approximately fifteen minutes before curiosity finally won. I cleared my throat and turned toward her. “So, ma’am…”

She looked at me. “Yes, child?”

I hesitated, suddenly feeling ridiculous for bringing it up again. Still, I had to know. “I guess you’ve read the book?”

She nodded.

I leaned a little closer. “And you got a present?”

“No.”

I blinked. “No?. Wait.” I let out a confused laugh. “You just told me there’s a present for every reader who gets to the last page, but you didn’t get one?”

“That’s right.”

I stared at her, waiting for her to burst into laughter or admit that she’d been messing with me. She did neither.

Instead, she smiled as though everything she’d said made perfect sense. “Only the destined reader gets the present.”

My smile slowly faded. “The… destined reader?”

“Yes.”

I blinked hard, then glanced down at the book in my lap before looking back at her. “I’m sorry, but what exactly are you saying?”

She leaned back in her seat, perfectly relaxed. “Child, just keep reading. If you are the destined reader, you mustn’t skip a single page.”

I stared at her. Then I slowly turned my head toward the window. What the hell was this woman talking about? I pressed my lips together to keep me from saying something rude.

The worst part was that I was trapped beside her for the next eight hours. There was no casually excusing myself to get away from the conversation, no switching seats without inconveniencing another passenger, and certainly no escaping through the window.

I was stuck. And judging by the mysterious smile on her face, she wasn’t going to explain anything else. I looked down at my book. And got even more curious. Still, I opened it again, and kept reading.

As the hours passed, the plane settled into the steady rhythm of a long-haul flight. The low rumble of the engines became almost soothing, conversations around us dwindled, and a few passengers had already fallen asleep.

I had finished my coffee long ago, and my eyes were beginning to feel dry, but the story had me in a chokehold. The more I read, the more desperate I became to reach the end.

The heroine’s situation was getting worse by the chapter. Every time I thought she’d finally found a way out, something else happened to drag her deeper into trouble. Her enemies were closing in, the world was on the brink of disaster, and she seemed to be running out of options.

I frowned at the page. “Oh, come on!” I muttered. The woman beside me shifted slightly. I glanced at her, then back at my book. “I’m sorry, but this is ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous?” she asked.

I turned toward her, grateful for the opportunity to complain.“This book! The author keeps making everything worse for the poor girl. Every time she gets one step closer to solving a problem, another disaster happens. I’m beginning to think the writer hates her.”

The older woman chuckled softly. “Perhaps the writer simply has more plans for her.”

“More plans?” I gaped at her. “Ma’am, at this point, the poor girl needs a miracle, not another plan!”

She laughed, but didn’t offer any explanation. I shook my head and returned to the book. For a few more minutes, I endured the heroine’s misery before finally turning toward the woman again.

“Well…” I began, adjusting the book on my lap. “Since you’ve already read it, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

I held the book up between us. “I’m almost at the end, and things just keep getting worse. Is there a book two or something?”

She tilted her head. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I need to know if there’s any hope for this girl!” I exclaimed, lowering my voice when a passenger across the aisle glanced at me. “I mean, does she eventually save the world?.”

I waited, watching the woman’s face for even the smallest hint of an answer. She didn’t give me one.

Instead, she folded her hands in her lap and said, “It depends.”

I frowned. “On what?”

Her eyes shifted to the book in my hands. “On who receives the present.”