Lily’s world tilted.
The man standing before her—the one who had knocked on her door last night, the one whose voice had sent a shiver down her spine—was claiming to be James.
The same James who had been writing her letters.
The same James who had warned her about them.
The same James she had never met.
Or had she?
Her mind raced, trying to make sense of it. “That’s not possible,” she whispered.
James didn’t look away. “I know.”
The weight of his gaze was unbearable, heavy with something she couldn’t name. Something she almost remembered.
No. That was crazy.
She took a step back, gripping the edge of the counter. “This is a joke, right? Some kind of elaborate trick?”
He exhaled sharply. “I wish it were.”
Lily shook her head. “You can’t be James.”
“I am James,” he said firmly. “Just… not in the way you think.”
A chill ran down her spine.
Her hands trembled as she pointed toward the door. “I don’t know who you are, but I need you to leave.”
James hesitated. Then, instead of arguing, he reached into his coat pocket.
And pulled out a letter.
Lily’s breath caught.
The same thick parchment. The same wax seal.
He placed it on the counter between them. “Read it.”
Lily swallowed hard.
Her fingers felt numb as she reached for the envelope, breaking the wax with unsteady hands.
The moment she unfolded the paper, a strange sensation rushed through her—a wave of déjà vu, sharp and disorienting.
The words blurred for a moment before coming into focus.
My Lily,
If you are reading this, it means I have found my way back to you.
But I don’t know how much time we have.
You don’t remember me yet, but you will.
Please, trust me.
You once promised me you would.
And Lily—if they find out I’ve reached you, they will take you away from me.
Again.
James
Lily’s heart pounded.
She read the letter again.
Then again.
And yet, no matter how many times her eyes scanned the words, the truth remained the same—
It was his handwriting.
The same slanted, careful script as the other letters.
But that was impossible.
Because the James from the letters—her James—was a ghost, a dream, a memory from another life.
Not a man standing in front of her, real and breathing.
Her vision blurred, a sudden pressure pressing against her temples.
Too much. It was too much.
She staggered back, gripping the edge of the counter. “I don’t—I don’t understand.”
James’s expression softened. “I know.”
He reached for her, but Lily instinctively recoiled. His hand hovered in the air for a moment before he let it drop to his side.
“I need answers,” she choked out.
James’s jaw tightened. “So do I.”
Lily’s breathing came in short, uneven gasps. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated. Then: “I don’t remember everything either.”
She stilled.
James let out a slow breath, as if forcing himself to admit something he didn’t want to. “I know I’ve spent lifetimes searching for you. I know you were taken from me before. And I know… we’re running out of time.”
Lily’s blood turned to ice.
Lifetimes?
Taken from him?
This was insane. This was impossible.
And yet—
Something deep inside her whispered you know he’s telling the truth.
A sharp ringing filled her ears. The bookstore felt smaller, the air too thick to breathe.
She had to get out of here.
“I need to go,” she whispered, stepping around the counter.
“Lily—”
But she didn’t stop.
She couldn’t.
She pushed past him, ignoring the way his warmth seemed to pull her in, like gravity itself wanted them to stay close.
She needed space.
She needed air.
And more than anything—
She needed to figure out why her heart was breaking for a man she shouldn’t remember.
A Fractured Memory
Lily ran.
She didn’t know where she was going—only that she needed to move.
Cold air bit at her skin as she stepped onto the quiet streets of Fairbrook, her pulse hammering.
Everything felt wrong.
Her hands trembled. Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps. The letter in her pocket felt heavier than it should.
She didn’t realize she had stopped walking until her reflection stared back at her in the glass window of a nearby café.
She barely recognized herself.
Wide, haunted eyes. Pale skin.
And something else.
A flicker of something deep, something old, something buried so far inside her that it had almost been forgotten.
Almost.
Her fingers curled into fists.
James.
The name felt like a fire inside her chest, burning its way through the cracks in her mind.
Flashes of something just out of reach danced at the edges of her memory.
A hand in hers.
A voice whispering her name.
A kiss in the rain.
Her knees nearly buckled.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, this isn’t real.”
But the moment the words left her lips, she knew—
It was.
She might not remember everything.
But her heart did.
A chime echoed through the air.
Lily flinched, her head snapping toward the sound.
The clock tower.
She hadn’t even realized she’d walked to the town square.
The large clock loomed above her, its hands frozen at 11:11.
Something inside her shattered.
She knew this moment.
She had been here before.
Not in this life.
But in another.
Her breath came in short, frantic gasps as she stepped forward, reaching out as if touching the clock would somehow bring back the memories clawing at the edges of her mind.
A whisper curled through the wind.
Soft.
Familiar.
"Lily…"
She spun around.
But there was no one there.
Only the cold wind and the sound of her own pounding heart.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
And then—
She remembered.
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