Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE SKY WAS clear again.

Blue, clean, quiet. The kind of morning that lies to you.
The kind that pretends it never knew clouds existed.

People were out in force—laughing, drinking, dancing across the deck like they’d forgotten they were floating in the middle of nowhere. Like the air hadn’t shifted. Like the world wasn’t about to change.

But Evelyn didn’t forget.

She found me after breakfast. No small talk. No playful banter.

Just—

“Come with me.”

We slipped away into a side corridor. No one around.
The hum of the ship was the only sound. Constant. Distant. Like a heartbeat too slow to trust.

She stopped, turned to me, and took a deep breath.

“I know this sounds mad,” she said. “But I need to say it.”

I nodded.

She stared at me like she was looking for something behind my eyes.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to be here,” she said. “Not just on this ship. I mean… here. With you. It feels right and wrong at the same time. Like I’m remembering a dream I never had.”

I said nothing.

Because what could I say?

“I keep having these flashes,” she continued. “Images. Places. Faces. You. Always you. But not this you. Different versions. Different timelines.”

My heart thudded. She kept going.

“I think I knew you before. I don’t know how. I don’t know where. But when I look at you… it’s like part of me aches.”

I reached for her hand.

And she let me hold it.

“I feel it too,” I said quietly.

Her eyes filled, but she didn’t cry.

“I’m scared,” she said.

“Me too.”

“Why do I feel like we’re running out of time?”

Because we are, I wanted to say.
Because I made a deal with something ancient.
Because every day that passes is a step toward the edge.

But I didn’t say it.

I just pulled her into my arms and let her rest her head on my chest, where the hum of the ship could pretend to be a heartbeat.

We stayed like that for a long time.