The alley swallowed his breath.
Kade stood there, locked in the silver gaze of the girl who shouldn’t exist. His pulse thudded like a drum in his ears, every instinct screaming at him to move, to run, to do something. But he couldn’t—not with her watching him like that.
Asha.
The name came uninvited, curling up from the depths of memory like smoke from a dying fire. It didn’t feel real—because it couldn’t be. He’d seen her die. He’d been there when her lungs stopped pulling air, when her eyes lost that strange light.
And yet… here she was.
Breathing. Watching. Smiling like a ghost that knew its own joke.
“You’re… not real,” Kade muttered, voice low and cracked.
“Neither are you,” she said softly. Her words cut sharper than any blade.
Before Kade could reply, the ground shuddered.
