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Chapter 4

  Adrian stood… or perhaps floated… above the stillness of his own body.

  The world around him had turned eerily silent, like time had exhaled and held its breath. His eyes—if he even still had them—took in the scene: the blood pooling beneath his body, the pale horror on Noah’s face as he cradled him, trembling, weeping, whispering his name like a prayer too late to be answered.

  Adrian should have panicked. Should have screamed. But all he felt was stillness—and the bitter, sharp taste of betrayal still thick in whatever remained of his mouth.

  He moved, weightless, toward Noah.

  “Noah… don't cry,” he whispered, reaching to wipe the tears from his cheeks, but his hand passed through like mist. Noah didn’t flinch, didn’t even feel it. Adrian’s heart—or soul—ached.

  From the other side of the room came raised voices—Sarah and Matt.

  “What the hell did you do?!” Sarah screamed, wild-eyed, her dress blood-splattered.

  Matt looked shaken, but far from remorseful. “It was self-defense! He came at me!”

  “You shot him, Matt! That was my fiancé—you killed him!”

  “You were done with him! Don’t act like you weren’t planning this!”

  Adrian drifted toward them. These were the people he'd trusted the most. Loved. And now, standing above his own body, he saw them for what they were: cold, calculating, careless. Discussing his death like an inconvenience.

  Adrian turned back to Noah. He was murmuring something, so soft, so broken.

  “I… I should’ve stopped him. I could have saved him…”

  “Noah,” Adrian tried again, louder, reaching out. “Noah—look at me!”

  But it was no use.

  Noah gently placed Adrian's lifeless body back down and stood, fury rising like a tide. He charged at Sarah.

  “You lied to him for years,” Noah yelled, grabbing her by the throat. “He loved you and you cheated, used him—”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Matt pulled him off, shoving him against the wall. “Back off, Noah!”

  “I’m calling the police!” Noah spat, tears streaking his face.

  As Noah turned to lift Adrian again, Sarah—shaking, lips twisted—grabbed the iron fireplace poker. Her hand raised, trembling with the weight of it.

  “Noah—behind you!” Adrian screamed.

  He threw himself forward, hoping—desperate—but passed straight through her.

  The blow connected with a sickening crack.

  Noah collapsed instantly. Blood flowed down the side of his temple. Sarah stood above him, panting.

  Adrian froze.

  Time slowed.

  No… no… not him too.

  And then—

  “Oh, you poor child. What have you become?”

  Adrian turned toward the voice.

  She stood just by the window—the same old woman from the flower stall. The one with the hairpins. The one who had given him the pocket watch.

  “You!” Adrian rushed to her. “Please—you have to save him! He’s bleeding, he’s dying because of me! He shouldn’t even have been there—please!”

  The woman looked at him with eyes ancient and infinite. She extended her hand.

  “Walk with me, child.”

  He hesitated, but then the room vanished.

  They were in a sun-drenched park now. Children laughing. Cyclists riding past. Chess pieces clicked on old stone tables where grey-haired men smiled beneath the trees.

  Adrian looked around, confused. “What is this place? Am I… dead?”

  The woman didn’t answer immediately. She simply smiled, then shimmered—her wrinkles smoothing, her hair darkening—until a young woman stood before him, breathtaking and strange.

  “You don't stop, do you? So many questions,” she teased playfully.

  Adrian blinked. “Who are you?”

  “One of the Five Sisters,” she said, twirling. “Destiny, at your service.”

  “I… I don’t understand. Am I dead?”

  “Not quite,” she replied, glancing toward the chessboard where a pawn reached the other side.

  “This is the Afterlife. A pause. A breath between endings.”

  Adrian swallowed. “And Noah?”

  Her face softened. “Not dead. Not yet.”

  He clutched his head. “Please. Send me back. He’s dying. I don’t care about anything else. I need to go back.”

  “Shh…” she said, brushing an invisible tear from his cheek. “You don’t have much time. So I’ll offer you a choice.”

  She held up two fingers.

  “One. You can move on. To a place where everything is perfect. A dream world. A happy life. You’ll have your family, your wedding, your quiet little home in the countryside. But you will be dead.”

  Adrian stared, breath catching.

  “Or…” she said softly, “Two. I send you back. And you do with the time what you must. Choose wisely.”

  Memories surged—Sarah’s perfume. The hidden shoes. Matt’s smirk. Noah’s tearful eyes. The betrayal. The bullet.

  Adrian clenched his fists.

  “I want to go back.”

  Destiny smiled, a sad, knowing smile. “I thought you might say that. Take out the watch.”

  He reached into his pocket—and pulled out… a coffee mug?

  What—

  He blinked.

  The sound of a vending machine. The hum of fluorescent lights. A whirring coffee machine.

  He was in his office pantry.

  The mug warm in his hand.

  He turned slowly—disoriented. Everything looked… normal. Alive.

  His eyes landed on the desk calendar by the fridge.

  February 13, 2024.

  He gasped.

  One year before his death.

  But why…?

  what would you choose if you were in place of Adrian?

  


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