The crack didn't disappear.
If anything, it followed me.
By the time I got home from school, I had convinced myself that I was overthinking everything.
Caleb had died.
That was real.
The bear trap was real.
The words on the wall had probably never been there.
And the strange memory of the woods?
That was probably my brain trying to make sense of a month-long coma.
There was nothing wrong with me.
At least, that's what I kept telling myself.
I was sitting at the kitchen island that evening, scrolling mindlessly through my phone while Grandpa prepared tea, when I suddenly remembered someone else.
Vera.
I hadn't seen her since before everything happened.
Actually…
When had I last seen Vera?
I frowned.
The memory wouldn't come.
I remembered her face.
Her voice.
The way she used to tuck her hair behind her ear whenever she was nervous.
But I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually spoken to her.
I looked up.
"Grandpa?"
"Hm?"
"What happened to Vera?"
