Elara snorted. “Unfinished Letter?” She flipped to a random page.
She spent the day in a quiet panic. What do you ask the person who wrote your fate? Why me? What happens next? Is any of it real?
For you, who live in the pause between ticks: At 8:13 PM, you will drop something irreplaceable. Do not catch it. Let it break. The sound will be the first true thing you’ve heard in years.
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