The first morning I spent planning the show, the sunlight spilled across my apartment in streaks of gold that felt too bright, too exposed. I had coffee in hand, Jess flipping through old performance footage on her tablet, Daniel pacing back and forth, muttering about logistics. It was surreal to see them so involved in my "other life," my old life that I'd spent years trying to erase.
I unrolled the floor mats and began setting up some of my smaller illusions in the living room. A deck of cards, ropes, a collapsible box for escapes—it wasn't much, but it was a start. My hands trembled slightly as I picked up the cards, memories flooding in. The first time I had held these cards under the stage lights, the audience waiting with bated breath—it all came rushing back, as vivid as if no time had passed at all.
"Clara," Jess said, peering over my shoulder, eyes wide. "You… you're glowing. You look like yourself again."
I forced a small smile. "It's scary, Jess. Exciting, but scary. What if I fail? What if people hate me?"
She shook her head firmly. "They won't hate you. They'll be blown away. You survived two years hiding, outsmarted him, and now… now you're coming back. They'll see how unstoppable you are."
Daniel wandered closer, watching me shuffle the cards with almost mechanical precision. "You remember every move, huh?"
I nodded. "Muscle memory. Years of practice. I may have been Clara for two years, but Ava… she's still in there."
I set the deck down, then moved to a small collapsible water tank I had borrowed from a local theater. My heart hammered as I tested the lock mechanisms, checking the safety releases, remembering the trick I had performed countless times on stage—the one that had terrified audiences and made my name famous.
"You sure you want to start with the water tank?" Daniel asked nervously. "It's… risky."
I glanced at him, the faintest smirk tugging at my lips. "I've held my breath for thirty minutes before. I know the risks. This is how I remind myself I'm still alive."
Jess wrinkled her nose. "You're insane. Absolutely insane. But… wow, I'm in awe."
Hours passed as I rehearsed, each trick more polished than the last. The living room became a mini-stage: the water tank in the corner, tables covered in props, mirrors reflecting my every movement. Each illusion was a small victory, a reclamation of the life I had once been forced to leave behind.
But even as I focused on the tricks, I couldn't escape the feeling that I was being watched. My stomach knotted, and my gaze darted to the window repeatedly. Shadows moved in the alleys outside, indistinct, but enough to make my heart race. Every sound—footsteps, a car door closing, distant chatter—made me jump.
"He's out there," I whispered, more to myself than to anyone else. "I can feel him."
Jess's hand found mine, squeezing tightly. "We're here. We'll make sure he doesn't touch you. You're not alone this time."
Daniel nodded, his jaw tight. "We'll cover every angle. If he tries anything… he won't get close."
Still, I couldn't shake the fear. He knew my real name. He knew my past. And now, with the world about to see me again, I had to prepare for the possibility that he would strike—or at least try to watch, to sabotage, to terrorize me once more.
By evening, exhaustion set in. I slumped onto the couch, heart still racing from the water tank rehearsal. Jess flopped beside me, leaning her head against my shoulder. "You really are something else, Clara. You're… fearless."
I laughed softly, a hollow sound that carried a tinge of fear. "Fearless? Not even close. Scared out of my mind. But I can't let it stop me."
Daniel leaned back in the chair, arms folded. "You've always been more than people thought. And now… you'll prove it to the world. One show, one performance at a time. He may be out there, but he won't stop you."
I nodded, closing my eyes for a moment. The water tank, the cards, the ropes, the smoke and mirrors—they were all part of my story. My comeback. My defiance.
Tomorrow, we'd plan the stage, the lighting, the music, the press. Tomorrow, the world would start to know that Ava—the Houdini girl—had survived. And for the first time in years, I allowed myself a sliver of excitement amidst the fear.