The mirror shattered. Camela gasped and stumbled back, her breath hitching in her throat. Shards of glass slid down from the frame, scattering across the floor and reflecting a hundred images of her face—pale, shaking, with a scar that felt like fire. Her chest rose and fell quickly as she clutched her throat and whispered, “No…no, this can’t be real. It’s not…” She gasped for breath as she looked around. The darkness had vanished. Her trembling hand touched the wall. The air felt lighter now, no longer heavy like before. The floor was solid beneath her bare feet. She smelled dust, city smoke, and old wood—everything felt real. For the first time in what felt like forever, she was standing in her own apartment—the faded wallpaper, the broken clock on the wall, and the half-burnt candle still dripping on the table. She pressed her hands to her chest, trembling as her knees buckled. She leaned against the couch, breathing heavily. “I’m…home?” she muttered.The word felt odd as she
Last Updated : 2025-11-21 Read more