Sasha didn't remember leaving the grandmother's house.
One moment she had been standing there, the old woman's words still hanging thick in the air,He is the mistake,and the next, she was outside, the cold brushing her skin like something trying to wake her up.
Lex walked ahead of her, silent.
Too silent.
The kind of silence that wasn't empty,but full of things he refused to say.
They reached the car. He unlocked it. Got in.
Still nothing.
Sasha didn't move.
"Get in," he said after a moment, his voice flat.
She crossed her arms. "No."
Lex exhaled slowly, gripping the steering wheel. "Sasha—"
"You knew something," she cut in. "Don't lie to me."
"I didn't know," he said, sharper now. "I felt—something. That's all."
"That's not normal, Lex," she snapped. "People don't just feel rituals, or jars that remember things, or..." her voice broke slightly, "...or past lives."
He finally looked at her.
And there it was.
Fear.
Real, unguarded fear.
"You think I want this?" he asked quietly. "You think I understand any of it?"
Sasha hesitated.
Because part of her believed him.
But another part,the part that had started waking up,didn't.
Before she could respond, something flickered behind her eyes.
A shift.
A memory.
Not imagined.
Not symbolic.
Real.
A hand sliding into hers.
Warm.
Certain.
A voice...
Low. Familiar.
"Stay."
Her breath caught.
Malik.
The name hit her like a pulse.
Not from now.
From before.
Sasha staggered slightly, grabbing the car door for support.
Lex was out in seconds. "Hey,what's wrong?"
She shook her head, trying to steady herself. "I—I saw something."
"What?"
She looked up at him, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Him."
Across the city, Malik stood at the window of his apartment, staring out at the skyline as if it could give him answers.
It didn't.
It never did.
Behind him, his wife leaned against the doorway, arms folded, watching him with a quiet kind of certainty.
"You've been doing that a lot," she said.
Malik didn't turn.
"Doing what?"
"Leaving without moving."
He frowned slightly. "I'm right here."
"No," she said softly.
"You're not."
Silence stretched between them.
Heavy.
Familiar.
Then...
"Who is she?"
The question landed clean.
No anger. No accusation.
Just truth.
Malik closed his eyes briefly.
"There's no one."
"Then why do you say her name in your sleep?"
That did it.
He turned.
Slowly.
"What?"
His wife stepped forward, her gaze steady. "You think I wouldn't notice?" she asked. "Every night, the same thing. You reach for someone who isn't there."
A pause.
Then..
"You say 'Sasha.'"
The air shifted.
Something inside Malik tightened.
Because hearing it out loud made it real.
And worse...
It made it undeniable.
"I don't know what that is," he said finally.
But even to him, it sounded weak.
His wife studied him for a long moment
.
Then nodded slightly.
"Find out," she said.
Sasha didn't think.
Didn't plan.
Didn't question.
By the time she reached Malik's door, her heart was racing,not from fear, but recognition.
Like something in her had already made the decision.
She knocked.
Once.
Twice.
The door opened.
And everything stilled.
Malik stared at her like he'd been expecting her.
Like he'd always known she would come.
"You shouldn't be here," he said.
But he didn't sound convinced.
"I know," Sasha replied.
Neither of them moved.
Then...
He stepped aside.
And she walked in.