Chapter 1: The Sound That Broke Everything

It’s been seven years since Chloe and I woke up trapped in someone else’s story.

Seven years—long enough for roots to dig in, for this strange world to almost pass as home. But every so often, something would snap me back to the truth—the real one, not this endless costume party in a borrowed life.

Chloe came to me with news: if these bodies die, we can go home.

She said it, then stepped off the hospital’s top floor.

I’ll never forget the sound—a dull, sickening thud that seemed to shatter the whole world. Chloe’s blood splattered across the cold tile, staining her husband’s pristine white sleeve. The red was too bright, too final. That’s an image you can’t erase, no matter how hard you squeeze your eyes shut.

The man who’d just accused her of faking it stood there, stunned, eyes wide and rimmed with red, like he’d just been sucker-punched.

He’d been shouting about her being dramatic, about her craving attention. Now he stood frozen, knuckles bone-white, jaw twitching as he tried—and failed—to speak. Around us, some nurses burst into tears. Someone’s hands shook as they dialed 911, but it was already too late.

I walked past him, eyes searching for another man nearby—my husband—who was quietly cradling his first love in his arms.

That man was the governor of this state.

I thought to myself, It’s time for me to go home, too.

It was a bitter thought, cold as the hospital linoleum under my shoes. I didn’t look back. My mind spun: would going back to Milwaukee really erase this pain, or would it just trade one kind of hurt for another? Would I finally be free—or would regret follow me home?