Chapter 1
Mila's point of view
The forest was too perfect to be real.
Sunlight filtered through towering trees, warming my face while the rest of my body rested in cool shade. A narrow river wound its way through the clearing, whispering softly over smooth stones. Leaves rustled in the breeze, and for a moment—just one fragile moment—I felt completely at peace.
I knew better than to trust it.
The sky darkened without warning. Clouds swallowed the light, and the warmth vanished as rain began to fall in heavy sheets. The colors of the forest dulled, as if the world were being drained of life.
That was when I saw her.
She stood between the trees, thin and hunched, her presence wrong in a way I couldn’t explain. Her eyes were sharp and knowing, far too aware. She looked like something pulled from an old nightmare—a witch from a story meant to scare children into behaving.
I tried to step back.
My body wouldn’t move.
She opened her mouth.
“One.”
Fear slid down my spine like ice.
“Two.”
I tried to scream. No sound came out.
“Three.”
My chest tightened, breath shallow and useless.
“Four.”
The forest seemed to lean in around us.
“Five.”
I broke.
I screamed—and bolted upright in bed, gasping for air.
My heart was pounding so hard it hurt. My room was dark, quiet, familiar. Safe. But the echo of the dream clung to me like a second skin.
I curled onto my side and pulled my knees to my chest, staring into the shadows on my wall. I could still see her when I closed my eyes. Still hear her voice counting.
These dreams had been following me for years.
No one believed me.
I’d tried telling my mom once. She’d laughed it off at first—said I watched too many movies, read too many stories. When I insisted they felt real, she’d stopped laughing.
“Mila, you need to stop making things up,” she’d said. “If someone were really after you, you’d be dead already.”
She’d even threatened to have me evaluated if I didn’t drop it.
So I did.
Or at least, I pretended to.
I wasn’t crazy. I liked my life. I liked being normal. And I definitely didn’t want to end up on medication for something no one else could see.
So I stayed quiet.
And I kept having the dreams.
⸻
By the time my alarm was supposed to go off, my phone was dead.
I discovered that when I reached for it and found nothing but a black screen.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered.
Right on cue, my mom’s voice thundered through the house.
“MILA!”
I winced.
“YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES. GET READY. NOW!”
She paused, then added, louder, “AND YOU ARE NOT MISSING SCHOOL TODAY!”
Five minutes. Fantastic.
I launched myself out of bed and ran into the bathroom connected to my room, splashing water on my face and brushing my teeth like my life depended on it. My uniform came next, and I nearly fell over trying to pull my pants on.
Some people were born graceful.
I was not one of them.
I grabbed my bag and raced downstairs.
My mom was waiting at the door, already dressed for work, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. “Oh, baby, you can’t keep oversleeping. We agreed on the alarm clock.”
The alarm clock.
My stomach sank.
I spun around and ran back upstairs for my phone and charger. I must have been too tired to plug it in last night.
When I came back down, slightly out of breath, my mom raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Dead phone.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “I thought I plugged it in.”
She sighed and pulled a brush out of her purse, immediately starting on my hair. “You have long, beautiful hair, just like your grandmother. You have to take care of it.” She paused. “And you are seventeen, Mila. Not seven.”
I groaned softly. Of all the things to forget.
“I only had five minutes,” I reminded her.
She smirked. “More like fifteen. Go grab your breakfast sandwich. We’re leaving.”
I did as I was told, because experience had taught me that arguing only made us later.
As I headed for the car, sandwich in hand, I tried to shake the feeling clinging to me from the dream.
I failed.
Somehow, I knew this wasn’t just another morning.
And whatever had been counting down to me in my dreams…
Wasn’t finished yet.
