kly as the sound of her alarm. She groaned, reaching out to silence the insistent beeping, her han
was bathed in the soft, gray light of early dawn, the city outside just beginnin
with well-loved novels, a few houseplants that were miraculously still alive, and the faint scent of lavender from a diffuser on her b
set it on the stove, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. As she reached for the tea, she noticed a strange sensation in her hand-a slight tingle, as if st
as she leaned against the counter, lost in thought. There was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind, a sense that something
ce. Samantha smiled and crouched down to scratch him
at the clock-6:20 AM. Still plenty of time before she had to get ready for work. Her routine w
g odd in the mirror. For just a second, it looked like her reflection had moved differently than she had-a fraction of a second too late, like a
rlier had faded. Wrapping herself in a towel, she quickly dried off and got dressed in her usual wo
he warmth, and pulled out her phone to check for any urgent messages. A few work emails, a couple of texts
in front of her. She scrolled through the news, not really reading, just lettin
mail popped up from an unfamiliar address.
bably just spam, but something about it gave her pause. Curiosity gettin
ng you. The time i
ntext. Just those f
ing feeling from earlier returning with a vengeance. She shook her head, trying to clear her t
bed her bag, gave Whiskers a quick pat on the head, and he
h people bustling about, cars honking, and the hum of everyday life all around. It was familiar
ic clatter of trains and the murmur of commuters. Samantha stood on the platform, waiting for her tr
. The city blurred past as the train picked up speed, and Samantha let her thoughts drift, ho
to the tunnels, she couldn't shake the feeling that somethi