Chapter 1

The music at the GatherGround launch party was loud, too loud.

It was also my birthday.

My app, GatherGround, was a hit in Austin, connecting people for local events, and tonight was supposed to be a celebration.

I smiled, but it felt stiff.

Jess, my best friend since forever, came up to me, her eyes shining a little too bright.

"Happy birthday, Sarah! And congrats on the app!"

She held out a box.

"This is for you, something special."

Inside was an old-looking instant camera, heavy and cool to the touch.

"It's vintage," Jess said, "And I found some rare, imported film for it, supposed to be amazing."

Ethan, my boyfriend, handsome and always knowing what to say, put his arm around me.

"That's thoughtful, Jess. Sarah, you can capture all your big moments."

I thanked her, genuinely touched. Jess knew I loved unique things, and she dreamed of being a photographer, always broke but always looking for that one special find.

Her parents were sick, really sick, Mr. Riley with MS, Mrs. Riley needing dialysis, and I knew money was tight for her. This gift felt like a sacrifice.

That camera, that "special" film, it wasn't a gift, it was a curse.

I know that now, because I lived through what it did.

That night, happy and unsuspecting, I took photos.

My parents, David and Carol Miller, beaming with pride. My dad, with his kind eyes, owned a small bookstore, my mom, a retired counselor, was my rock.

My core app team, the ones who built GatherGround with me.

And one of myself, smiling wide.

The photos looked good, sharp and vibrant.

Then everything fell apart, fast.

Within a month, my mom was dead.

A freak car accident, the police called it unsolved, just a bizarre, awful thing.

My dad had a stroke right after, a massive one. He lived, but he wasn't my dad anymore, just a shell, needing constant care, his words gone, his eyes empty.

GatherGround, my dream, was hit by a cyber-attack. User data wiped, public trust gone, financial ruin complete.

I fell apart too.

My hair turned gray in patches, stress eczema covered my skin, I gained weight, always tired, a deep, bone-weary fatigue I couldn't shake.

Ethan left.

"I can't be dragged down by your bad luck, Sarah," he said, his charming face cold. "I have a career to think about."

He was already looking past me.

Through the haze of my grief and failure, I saw glimpses of Jess on social media.

She was flourishing.

Her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Riley, had made "miraculous recoveries," people said. Jess was posting photos from nice restaurants, wearing new clothes, hinting at a new, comfortable life. She even got a fancy new camera setup for her photography.

It didn't make sense, none of it.

Broken, empty, I wandered into traffic on a busy Austin street.

A delivery truck.

I didn't even feel it.

But in that last second, that space between life and nothing, I saw it.

The camera. Jess's smiling face as she gave it to me. Ethan, standing beside her, a knowing look in his eyes I'd missed.

The photos draining everything from us, giving it to them.

The realization hit me harder than the truck.

Then, I gasped.

The loud music from the party pounded in my ears again.

I was standing there, Ethan's arm around my waist, the lights bright.

Jess was walking towards me, holding that same damned box.

"Happy birthday, Sarah! And congrats on the app!"

She held it out. "This is for you, something special."

I was back.

Back at the party, moments before she gave me the cursed camera.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a wild, trapped bird.

I knew what was coming. I knew what she was. What Ethan was.

I forced a smile, wider this time, more practiced.

"Jess! Thank you, it looks amazing!"

I took the box, my hands steady despite the storm inside me.

This time, things would be different.