Chapter 2

I retreated.

Slipped back into the quiet space in my mind, the "inner room" as I called it.

From here, I could see through Anna' s eyes, hear through her ears.

But I couldn' t act. Couldn' t speak.

Just watch.

A prisoner in my own head, in my own body.

Anna took control smoothly, a practiced shift.

Her shoulders softened, her expression melted into one of gentle concern.

She was good at this.

"Oh, Michael, Caleb," Anna said, her voice trembling just a little. "Are they very intimidating? The Chimera people?"

She looked up at them, wide-eyed, the perfect picture of vulnerability.

"I' ll do my best, of course. For The Hollow."

She even managed a weak, brave smile.

Michael' s face softened instantly. "You' ll be great, Anna. Just be yourself."

Caleb nodded, a protective look in his eyes. "We' ll be right outside if you need anything."

They lapped it up.

Her feigned modesty, her supposed fragility.

It made me want to scream.

I was the one who' d just faced down a dozen Spore-Walkers for that medicine.

Anna was worried about a conversation.

The community members, the ones I' d protected countless times, echoed their sentiments.

Old Man Hemlock, whose life I' d saved last winter when he wandered into a Spore-Walker nest, patted Anna' s arm.

"Don' t you worry your pretty little head, Anna. You' ve got a way with words."

Maria, whose children I' d pulled from a collapsing building during a tremor, smiled.

"Sarah' s good for the rough stuff, but you, Anna, you bring us hope."

Hope.

They valued Anna' s illusions over my reality.

Their memories were short. Their preference for comfort over competence was absolute.

They gathered around her, a protective circle, offering words of encouragement.

All for Anna.

Michael and Caleb flanked her as she walked towards the council hall where the Chimera representatives waited.

Michael put a supportive hand on her back.

Caleb offered her a reassuring smile, the kind he used to give me.

My heart ached, a familiar, hollow pain.

I watched their faces.

Michael' s brotherly concern, so easily given to Anna, so rarely to me.

Caleb' s tender gaze, now reserved for the persona he preferred.

They chose her. Openly. Every single day.

And I was forced to watch.

A tiny, foolish part of me still hoped.

Hoped that Caleb, somewhere deep down, remembered the Sarah he once knew.

The Sarah who rode with him, fought beside him, laughed with him under the Wyoming stars, before the Blight, before the fire.

Maybe he still saw a flicker of me beneath Anna' s surface.

But then Anna stumbled slightly, a deliberate, tiny misstep.

Caleb' s arm shot out, steadying her.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice full of concern.

He looked at her, and the last sliver of my hope died.

His eyes were full of Anna. Only Anna.

My silent joy, the one I' d hoarded from memories of him, faded.

In my inner room, a strange thing happened.

I often pictured my consciousness, my sense of self, as a small, worn name tag pinned to the wall of this mental space.

"SARAH JENKINS."

Now, as I watched Caleb' s devotion to Anna, the edges of the tag seemed to blur.

The letters flickered.

It was a premonition, I knew.

A sign of what Chimera' s "therapy" would do.

I was disappearing, piece by piece.

And the ones I had loved, the ones I had protected, were helping it happen.