Chapter 4

The wedding day arrives under a brilliant, cloudless California sky.

It' s a cruel mockery of the storm brewing inside me. I sit in the back of a vintage convertible, the white silk of the torn dress pooled around me. Dave is driving, humming happily along to the radio.

"Nervous?" he asks, catching my eye in the rearview mirror.

I force a smile. "A little."

The program has already laid out the plan. The extraction will be triggered by the emotional peak of the ceremony-the vows. My soul will be pulled back to my own reality, leaving this body behind. To everyone here, it will look like Gabby, a woman with no known medical conditions, suffered a sudden, tragic cardiac arrest at the happiest moment of her life.

It's clean. It's final.

We' re five minutes from the vineyard chapel. The small procession of cars, with Ethan in the lead car just ahead of us, turns onto the long, private road lined with grapevines.

Suddenly, the lead car screeches to a halt.

A figure in a pale dress stumbles into the middle of the road, right in front of Ethan' s car.

It's Annabel.

She clutches her chest, her body trembling. She looks like a damsel in distress from an old movie, perfectly framed by the idyllic scenery.

Before anyone can react, Ethan' s car door flies open. He leaps out, his tuxedo pristine, his face etched with alarm. He doesn' t look at our car. He doesn' t look at the shocked faces of our guests.

He only has eyes for her.

"Annie!" he yells, running to her.

He scoops her up into his arms, abandoning his own wedding procession without a second thought. He holds her close, murmuring words of comfort that I can' t hear but can easily imagine.

"I've got you. I'm here. I'll get you help."

I watch him carry her away, back towards the main road, away from the chapel, away from me. The guests are frozen, their celebratory smiles replaced with confusion and disbelief.

Dave mutters a curse under his breath. "What the hell is he doing?"

But I know exactly what he' s doing. He' s keeping his promise. He' s taking a bullet-a metaphorical one this time-for her. And in doing so, he' s firing one straight into my heart.

The raw, public humiliation is a physical force. A sharp, unbearable pain explodes in my chest. It' s not just emotional; it' s real.

The program' s voice echoes in my mind, cold and clinical.

"Mission integrity compromised. Emotional trauma threshold exceeded. Progress reset to zero. Initiating immediate soul extraction."

My vision blurs. The world tilts. I feel a hot, metallic taste in my mouth. A trickle of blood runs from the corner of my lips, a single, stark red drop on the white lace of my dress.

As my consciousness fades, the last thing I see is Ethan. He' s turned back, his frantic gaze finally landing on my car. His face, just moments ago filled with concern for Annabel, is now a mask of pure, unadulterated panic as he sees me collapse.