Continuing

I looked at the screen and added a final note to the end of the document.I survived the fire that took Mom and Dad. I survived the metal that took Carter. For seven years, I thought surviving was my sin. I thought the only way to be loyal to them was to never move past the age of eighteen—the last year we were all a family. But I’m twenty-six now. And I’m staying here.I am going to live my life to the fullest and not regret it.Love always,myself.I closed the laptop. The click sounded like a period at the end of a very long, painful sentence.I walked out to the kitchen where Clayton was waiting. He was leaning against the counter, watching the coffee drip, his face etched with the kind of cautious hope that usually breaks my heart. But today, I wanted to give him something real."I finished," I said.Clayton straightened up, his eyes searching mine. He was looking for the girl who didn't know him, but for the first time, I think he finally saw the woman who did. "How are you feeli

Last Updated : 2026-02-11

30,000 feet

POV: ZiaThe morning air was crisp, the kind of stillness that usually feels peaceful, but today it felt like the breath you take before diving underwater. Viola was back, sitting in the same spot on the patio, looking as unimpressed by the million-dollar view as she had the first time.I told her about the letters. I told her about the pier. I even told her about the "I am not a thief" mantra.She listened, her sharp eyes tracking the way my hands didn't shake as much as they used to. "Good," she said, her voice like gravel. "You’ve cleared the brush. Now we have to dig up the stumps."I frowned. "What does that mean?""It means you’re getting comfortable here in your island bubble," Viola said, leaning forward. "Kauai is a beautiful bandage, Zia. But the wound happened in Pennsylvania. You’re twenty-six years old, and you’re finally awake. It’s time to go back to the start. You need to stand on the soil where you lost Zachariah and Mia. You need to see the house Carter grew up in."

Last Updated : 2026-02-11

Little Doe

POV: ClaytonI’d never seen Zia look so small. Watching her panic at 30,000 feet made me want to rip the plane apart just to get her back on solid ground. But now that we were in the rental SUV, heading toward West Chester, a different kind of instinct was kicking in.The black sedan had been behind us for five miles.I took a sharp right into a crowded shopping center, my eyes glued to the rearview. "Welcome to Pennsylvania, I guess," I muttered, my voice dropping into that dangerous register. "Looks like your past isn't the only thing waiting for us here."Zia’s phone buzzed in her lap. She looked down, her face turning even paler than it had been on the plane. She dropped the phone as if it had burned her."What is it?" I asked, my hand already reaching for the tire iron I'd tucked under my seat."A text," she whispered. "From an unknown number. It says... it says Carter left something for me at the bridge. And it says 'Don't let the surfer see you take it.'"I felt a surge of cold

Last Updated : 2026-02-11

The Huntress

POV: SylviaI watched the steam rise from my tea, the porcelain cup a delicate eggshell white against my manicured nails. Outside my window, the Pennsylvania sky was the color of a wet sidewalk—perfect.My phone vibrated on the mahogany desk. A text from Leo.Target moved. Checked into The Primrose. Cash stay.I smiled. "The Primrose," I whispered to the empty room. "Always the drama queen, Zia. Just like your mother."It had been eight years. Eight years of watching that little doe skip across the Pacific, hiding behind a surf-bum husband and a convenient case of amnesia. Did she really think a few thousand miles of salt water could wash away what was owed to me? My brother, Zachariah, had always been the golden child, the one who inherited the brains and the business while I was left with the scraps of his "charity."When the plane went down, I thought justice had finally been served. But then the lawyer read the will. Everything to Zia and Carter. The memory of that day still made t

Last Updated : 2026-02-11

Not an 'accident'

POV: ZiaThe motel room felt like a cage. Every time the heater kicked on, the mechanical rattle sounded like a plane engine, and I had to squeeze my eyes shut to keep from screaming. Clayton was across the room, his back to me as he watched the parking lot through a sliver in the curtains. He was a silent, lethal shadow, but I was a mess of sparking wires.Memories were hitting me like buckshot—fast, painful, and disjointed.I saw a face. Not Sylvia’s. A younger face, framed by a sterile white cap. A woman with cold, blue eyes and a voice that was too sweet, like saccharine.Nurse Eleanor.She had been there during my last stay at the clinic. She was the one who changed my IV. She was the one who always seemed to be "checking my vitals" right before my head would go fuzzy and I’d lose another three days to the fog."Clay," I whispered, my voice sounding brittle."I'm here, Z." He didn't turn around, but his shoulders tensed."The nurse at Dr. Clue’s. The one who was always there. Ele

Last Updated : 2026-02-11

All Chapters of The Reset: Chapter 21 - Chapter 25

Continuing

30,000 feet

Little Doe

The Huntress

Not an 'accident'