Chapter 5

Sera POV

I woke up feeling like someone had stuffed cotton in my skull and replaced my blood with concrete. Sunlight stabbed through the thin curtains of my old apartment, and I groaned, pulling a pillow over my face.

The party. God, the party.

Fragments came back in painful flashes—champagne flutes, Madison's fake smile, speaking words I didn't understand while everyone stared. The humiliation crashed over me fresh, making my stomach twist with something that had nothing to do with alcohol.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Then again. And again.

"Go away," I mumbled into my pillow.

The buzzing stopped, only to be replaced by aggressive knocking on my apartment door. I knew that knock—three sharp raps followed by two quick ones. Bri's signature.

"Sera! I know you're in there. Open up."

I dragged myself out of bed, my head pounding with each step. The cheap linoleum was cold under my bare feet as I shuffled to the door, catching a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. My hair looked like I'd been electrocuted, and yesterday's makeup had migrated to somewhere around my chin.

"You look like death," Bri announced the moment I cracked the door open.

"Thanks. That's exactly what every girl wants to hear."

She pushed past me into the apartment, carrying a paper bag that smelled like heaven. "I brought hangover remedies. Coffee, bagels, and those little orange juice bottles that cost five dollars each but somehow cure everything."

"Bri, you don't have to—"

"Shut up and drink this." She shoved a coffee cup into my hands. "We need to talk."

I took a sip and nearly cried with relief. Real coffee, not the bitter sludge my ancient machine produced. "What happened after I...after I left?"

"You mean after you passed out speaking in tongues?" Bri settled on my lumpy couch like she owned the place. "Everyone was worried. Madison thought you were having a seizure. Tyler wanted to call an ambulance."

"Oh god."

"I told them you'd been stressed about work and hadn't been eating enough. Which, by the way, is probably true." She gave me a pointed look. "When's the last time you had a real meal?"

I tried to remember. Yesterday's granola bar. Some crackers the day before. "I eat."

"Ramen doesn't count as food, Sera. It counts as sodium with a side of regret."

Despite everything, I almost smiled. "You're being dramatic."

"Am I? Look at yourself." She gestured at my general existence. "You're twenty-one now, not twelve. You can't keep surviving on fumes and stubbornness."

I sank into the chair across from her, cradling the coffee like a lifeline. "I'm fine."

"You passed out at your own birthday party after speaking what sounded like ancient Latin or something equally terrifying. That's not fine, that's concerning."

"It wasn't Latin."

The words slipped out before I could stop them. Bri's eyebrows shot up.

"So you remember what you said?"

"No, I just...I don't know. It didn't sound like Latin." I rubbed my temples, trying to massage away the headache. "Look, I was drinking on an empty stomach. People do weird things when they're drunk."

"People don't spontaneously speak in dead languages when they're drunk, Sera."

"Then what do you think happened?"

Bri was quiet for a long moment, studying my face. "I think you're stressed out of your mind about this internship and your brain decided to have a little breakdown."

"Gee, thanks."

"I'm serious. You've been pushing yourself too hard for too long. When's the last time you slept eight hours? Or took a day off from worrying about money?"

I couldn't answer because we both knew it had been months. Maybe longer.

"I want you to see a doctor," she said.

"I can't afford a doctor."

"Then I'll pay for it."

"Bri—"

"Don't 'Bri' me. Something's wrong, and I'm not going to sit here and watch my best friend fall apart because she's too stubborn to accept help."

I stared down at my coffee, watching steam curl up from the surface. Part of me wanted to tell her everything—about the priest, about the dreams, about the way reality felt like it was shifting around me. But how do you explain something you don't understand yourself?

"I'm moving to the condo today," I said instead.

"Good. That's good." She brightened slightly. "Fresh start, new environment. Maybe being closer to work will help with the stress."

"Yeah, maybe."

But even as I said it, I wasn't sure a change of scenery would fix whatever was happening to me. The dreams would follow me anywhere. So would the visions, the strange moments when the world felt too thin, like I might fall through it into somewhere else entirely.

Bri's phone rang, and she glanced at the screen. "It's my mom. Probably wants to know how the party went." She declined the call and looked back at me. "Are you going to be okay? Really?"

"I'm going to be fine," I lied. "Just need some time to adjust to everything."

"Okay, but I'm checking on you. Daily. Whether you like it or not."

After she left, I sat in my tiny apartment surrounded by cardboard boxes and tried to convince myself that moving would help. New place, new start, new me. The girl who spoke in mysterious languages at parties would stay here with the cigarette smell and the broken air conditioner.

But as I taped up the last box, I caught my reflection in the blank TV screen. For just a second, I could have sworn someone else was looking back at me. Someone with eyes that had seen too much and remembered things I'd never lived.

I blinked, and it was just me again. Tired, confused, but me.

"Moving day," I said to my reflection. "Time to get your life together, Sera."

If only it were that simple. Because as I loaded boxes into Bri's car an hour later, I couldn't shake the feeling that whatever was happening to me would follow me anywhere I went. You can't run from something that lives inside you.

The keys to the condo felt heavy in my pocket as we drove through downtown. Tomorrow was Sunday and on Monday, I'd be starting my internship at Hoblox, where I'd pretend to be normal and competent and ready for my bright future.

I just

hoped I could hold it together long enough to figure out whats wrong with me before everything falls apart