Chapter 8 The Rooftop Secret

Elira didn't look back.

Her feet flew across the cold archive floor, the pendant blazing against her chest. She didn't know who the man was - only that he wasn't human. And he was getting closer.

She burst through the side door, heart hammering, lungs burning, and sprinted toward the old school building across the yard.

Her instinct led her - not logic - and it pulled her up the stairs, two at a time, to the rooftop.

She shoved the door open.

The wind hit her like a wall, whipping her hair around her face. And standing there, like a vision from her buried memories, was *Kian*.

Not a photo. Not a dream.

*Real.*

He turned, his expression sharp, eyes wide. "You came."

Elira froze. "You... you knew I'd come?"

Kian stepped closer, scanning her face like he was searching for someone buried beneath the surface. "I hoped you'd remember. Even just enough."

Behind her, footsteps echoed in the stairwell.

"There's no time," he whispered, pulling something from his pocket - a silver coin with the same swirling symbol as the pendant. "You don't remember everything yet. But you will. They lied to us, Elira. They lied to *you*."

Her voice trembled. "What are you talking about?"

But before he could answer, the rooftop door slammed open.

The man from the archives stood there - only now, his form had changed. His eyes glowed violet. Veins darkened under his skin. And the black liquid from the vial dripped from his fingers like ink.

Kian shoved the coin into her hand. "Trust me."

He turned to face the figure. "You won't touch her again."

The man laughed, voice warped and wrong. "You think you can protect her again, Kian? You failed the first time."

Elira stepped back. "Again? What do you mean?"

"Ask your *real* self," the shadow sneered. "The one who begged to switch. The one who thought she could escape her fate."

Kian grabbed Elira's wrist. "Don't listen. You're not ready for that truth yet."

The shadow lunged.

*And time froze.*

Everything around them shimmered-colors twisting, air pulsing. Elira blinked. The rooftop vanished.

And suddenly, she was somewhere *else*.

A room with mirrors on every wall. Each one reflecting a different version of herself-different clothes, different scars, different *lives.*

And in the center of it all, a girl sat on the floor.

Curly dark hair. A shoulder tattoo.

The *real* Elira.

She looked up-and smiled.

"Welcome back."

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