The engine roared as she gripped the steering wheel tighter, her pulse hammering in sync with the flashing headlights in her rearview mirror. She wasn't just chasing someone—she was fleeing from the ghosts of her past. The rain lashed against the windshield, distorting the road ahead, but she couldn't afford to stop. She *wouldn't* stop. Not until she had erased every last trace of the danger lurking behind her.
But fate had its own cruel intentions.
A sharp turn. A moment's hesitation. And then—impact.
The car slammed through the barrier, metal screeching as it plummeted into the churning river below. Freezing water swallowed her whole, wrenching the breath from her lungs, dragging her into the abyss. She clawed at the void, her vision fading, her thoughts scattering. And then—darkness.
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I am Lena Hallowat.
Daughter of James and Margaret Hallowat, the sweetest, most overprotective parents in our tiny island village. Our life is simple—fresh bread in the morning, the scent of the ocean in the air, and the occasional gossip from nosy neighbors who are convinced I'm too pretty to be unmarried. Honestly, I'm inclined to agree.
I love my life here. I have everything I need—a warm home, loving parents, and my trusty notebook where I scribble down stories that no one reads but me. But sometimes, just sometimes, I get this strange feeling… like I'm missing something. Like there's a whole other life just beyond my grasp, slipping through my fingers the harder I try to hold onto it.
It's silly, right? A wild imagination is a dangerous thing, as my mother always says. *"Don't go looking for trouble, Lena. You're our precious girl."*
And yet…
My stories are starting to feel *too real.*
I write about villains, betrayal, and a man with piercing eyes that haunt my dreams. I don't know where these ideas come from, but they won't leave me alone. And then, one day, he appears.
Nathaniel .
He looks exactly like the villain in my story. The one I created. The one who shouldn't exist outside the pages of my notebook.
But he's real.
And he's been waiting for me.
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She may have forgotten the past, but the past never forgets.
And now, her own story is coming to claim her.