Amara couldn't shake the feeling that her world was slowly slipping away. Everything around her felt like it was moving, changing, while she stayed still—stuck in a moment that no longer made sense.
The violet petal lay on her pillow, small and soft. It didn't look like something that should be there. She picked it up gently, running her thumb across the edge. It felt real. Too real.
It didn't crumble or fade. It stayed whole. Perfect. Like someone had placed it there on purpose. Her chest tightened. Where had it come from? And why did it feel like something from a dream she couldn't quite remember?
It wasn't just the petal. It was everything that came with it. The strange dreams. The storm. The man with the violet eyes—the one who made her heart react before her mind could catch up. The one who felt like a memory her body remembered even when her mind didn't.
She pulled her blanket around her shoulders, trying to stop the chill running through her. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner and distant sounds from outside. But inside, something was building. Something she didn't understand.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Mr. Talbot lit up the screen.
"You okay? Still want to meet later? It's about the new project… and something else."
She stared at the message. She hadn't seen him since waking up. She wasn't sure she was ready. But something in her told her she needed to move. To do something. To feel normal, even if only for a while.
She replied:
"I'm fine. Let's meet tomorrow. Same place?"
His answer came fast.
"Of course. I'll keep it simple. Just a few things to go over."
She looked at the screen for a long time. The words felt heavy. Nothing had been simple since the storm. Not her body. Not her mind. And definitely not her heart.
She looked back at the petal in her hand. Something about it felt like a message—like proof that her dreams were more than just dreams.
Something had changed. Something was still changing.
And deep down, she knew:
Nothing about her life was ever going to be the same again.
Amara couldn't shake the feeling that something was slipping through her fingers. Like the world around her was changing, little by little, and she was the only one noticing it.
The violet petal lay on her pillow—soft, delicate, almost too perfect. She stared at it for a long time, unsure if it was real. When she picked it up, it didn't fall apart. It felt warm in her hand, like it had been left there on purpose.
Her heart beat faster. How did it get there? And why did it feel so familiar?
What scared her wasn't the petal—it was everything else. The strange dreams. The storm. The man with violet eyes who looked at her like he knew every part of her. A man she didn't remember but somehow couldn't forget.
She pulled her blanket tighter. Her room was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner. Still, something inside her felt like a storm was building.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from Mr. Talbot lit up the screen.
"You okay? Still want to meet later? I need to talk to you about the new project. It's urgent."
She hesitated. She hadn't been back to work. She didn't feel ready. But sitting here doing nothing only made the confusion worse.
She typed back:
"I'm fine. Let's meet tomorrow. Same place?"
His reply came quickly.
"Of course. I'll keep it low-key. Just a few details."
She stared at his message. Low-key—what did that even mean anymore? Since the storm, nothing felt normal.
Sleep was a stranger that night. Amara tossed and turned, her thoughts chasing shadows she couldn't outrun. Just as her eyes began to close, the sharp buzz of her phone shattered the silence.
She reached for it hesitantly, her fingers cold against the screen.
A new message.
Her breath caught as she read it:
"I know what's been happening to you. I'm the one you've been looking for. Don't be afraid."
Her pulse thundered in her ears. She stared at the name above the text: Unknown Contact.
It felt like something out of her dreams—too surreal, too pointed. And yet, it was right there. Real.
Hands shaking, she typed back the only thing that mattered.
Who are you?