The handle turned.
Slowly.
Too slowly.
Like it wanted them to watch.
Mira's breath caught in her throat.
"Don't…" she whispered.
Not sure if she was talking to him—
Or to the door.
He stepped slightly ahead of her.
Not aggressive.
But ready.
The click echoed.
Loud.
Final.
And then—
The door opened.
Not violently.
Not suddenly.
Gently.
A narrow gap.
Light from the hallway spilling in.
Soft.
Normal.
Too normal.
A figure stood there.
Still.
Calm.
Mira couldn't see the face clearly at first.
Just the outline.
But something about it—
Felt familiar.
Painfully familiar.
The figure took a step forward.
Into the room.
And Mira's world stopped.
Because she recognized her.
"Mom…?"
The word slipped out before she could stop it.
The woman smiled.
Warm.
Real.
The kind of smile that didn't glitch.
Didn't repeat.
Didn't feel wrong.
"Mira," she said softly.
"I've been waiting."
Mira's eyes filled instantly.
"No…"
She shook her head.
Stepping back.
"No, this isn't real…"
Her mother's expression didn't change.
Still calm.
Still gentle.
"You've been through a lot," she said.
Each word steady.
Grounded.
"This isn't another illusion."
Mira laughed weakly.
"Yeah… that's exactly what an illusion would say."
A pause.
Her mother sighed softly.
Then—
She stepped closer.
Not rushing.
Not forcing.
Just… approaching.
"You were in an accident," she said.
Mira froze.
The words hit differently.
Not like a system command.
Not like something artificial.
They carried weight.
Memory.
Emotion.
"You've been unconscious for weeks."
Silence.
The beeping machine beside Mira suddenly felt louder.
Real.
Her heart started racing.
"No…"
She whispered.
Fragments flashed in her mind.
A road.
Rain.
A sudden light—
Her breath hitched.
"That's not…"
She struggled to finish.
"That's not what happened…"
Her mother didn't argue.
Didn't push.
She just said—
"You built something to survive it."
Mira's chest tightened.
"Built…?"
"A world," her mother said.
Her eyes softened.
"A place where you didn't have to face what happened."
Mira's thoughts spiraled.
The rooftop.
The loop.
Him.
Her eyes snapped toward him.
He was still there.
Still real.
Still watching.
Confused.
Hurt.
Mira's voice broke.
"Then what about him…?"
Her mother followed her gaze.
For the first time—
Her expression changed.
Not fear.
Not confusion.
Something else.
Something careful.
"He's part of it," she said gently.
Mira's heart dropped.
"No."
Immediate.
Firm.
"No, he's not."
Her voice shook—
But didn't break.
"He's real."
He looked at her.
Something in his eyes shifted.
Because he didn't know anymore.
And that—
That hurt more than anything.
Her mother stepped closer again.
"Mira…"
"Come back."
Those two words—
Hit harder than anything else.
Because they sounded right.
Too right.
Mira stepped back again.
"I am back."
Her voice steadier now.
"This is real."
Her mother shook her head slowly.
"No…"
Her voice softened.
"This is where you're hiding."
Silence.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Because both of them—
Couldn't be right.
Mira looked between them.
Her past.
Her present.
Two realities.
One choice.
Her heart pounded.
"What if…"
She whispered.
"What if I don't want to go back?"
Her mother didn't answer immediately.
Then—
Very quietly—
"Then you won't wake up."
The words landed.
Cold.
Final.
Mira's breath shook.
Because now—
This wasn't just about reality.
It was about survival.
Behind her—
He spoke.
Soft.
But steady.
"Mira…"
She turned.
His eyes met hers.
No confusion now.
No hesitation.
Just one question.
"Do you believe her?"
Mira didn't answer.
Because she didn't know.
And that—
That was the most dangerous place to be.