Of course Ahmed wasn’t answering.

I had tried to call him three times and nothing. Crap. I needed help on this. People I could trust. Because, no matter what the note said, I could trust him. And the Society. We’d stopped Paragon and Frankenstein together. They knew everything about me. And yet, I didn’t have their phone numbers.

The sun was starting to go down, and Sadid finally came back–although finally wasn’t the right word, was it? I wouldn’t really have minded it if he never did come back and decided to move anywhere else.

“I need your help,” he said, as soon as he shut the door behind him.

He was dishevelled, breathing heavily. I stood up a little straighter. I asked him what was wrong, but he just sat on his bed. The only sounds in the room were the creaking of the mattress as he sat down and his deep breathing.

“You left early,” he said. “The dean said that the tournament will be happening before the exams. It’ll actually be incorporated into them. Give us a bit of a boost if we do well, whatever that means.”

I let out a sigh.

“So, what do you want, Sadid?”

“Somehow, after Sofie left, you ended up being the closest thing to a friend I’ve had on this island. In my whole life, really. I know, I wasn’t the best roommate–I’ve been kind of a kahba–but I kind of need you for this.”

“And what is ‘this’?”

“My little sister will be visiting. My parents got her tickets. We don’t really have the best relationship, so I thought you’d help me show her around.”

“Alright, when’s she coming?”

“Exactly one month from now. October nineteenth.”

My whole body perked at the date. I checked my phone. September nineteenth. Crap. I ran out of the room without saying anything. I just ran. Ran to the nearest bus stop, making my way to the graveyard.

To their grave.

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I’d left most of Jacob behind, but there were just some parts I couldn’t. This date was definitely one I could not forget.

The first time I was a little boy, I’d killed someone. Sarah Dillman.

Thirty years later, Paragon’s forces had killed my–Jacob’s–wife. Joanne Goldstein.

That was when I decided to go after him. When I left behind all pretences and completely gave in to my worst instincts.

I hadn’t told anyone about this. About this part of the memories. They never asked. I didn’t mind, of course. They didn’t understand. In their minds, I took care of Jacob, and he wasn’t there anymore. He wasn’t in my every move. He wasn’t in my whole mind. Except he was.

It would help if I opened up. Everyone would support me. And I tried to. I had looked them all in the eyes–from Birgit and Ivan to my parents–and tried to explain it all. Explain how it felt to have a whole other life in you. I hadn’t realised it when I first did it. When we were fighting three villains at once.

But when it all quieted down, when we all got back to normal, I realised that it was still loud. From dreams to memories. To simple moments I knew I’d lived through before.

I made it to the graves. Twin graves for the most important women in my first life. For different reasons of course. I felt more than heard someone behind me. I turned around and did my best to keep my face neutral.

He wasn’t real. I muttered that to myself again and again. No matter how much I’d wanted him to be.

I reached for my gloves, unsure of what I should do. Because Paragon was standing there. A young, strong looking Alpha Surge stood there in all his glory.

“You can’t be real.”

“Your mind isn’t playing tricks on you, young hero. Rather, it is, but you’re not going crazy.”

“You can’t be real.”

“I’m not. I’m merely a memory. A remnant. A voice in your head. A warning. You’ve finally achieved so much of what you wanted. You have friends that care for you. A wonderful partner in Birgit. And you’re on the road to becoming a hero. Do not stop yourself from being happy. Do not regress.”

I got up. Alpha Surge was dead. And this wouldn’t be the first time I was seeing things. And he was right. But right now, I didn’t have time for a therapy session from a ghost. So I walked past him, through him, and looked down at my phone.

At Kent Smith’s message. I looked back, and ‘Alpha Surge’ was still there. Watching me. He looked just like him, but he was also wrong. I couldn’t explain it, but he was off. Missing something.

I thought of the dean. Phillip Knightley.

Do not trust him.

Suddenly, my phone started ringing. Ahmed. I picked it up.

“We need to meet up. The whole Society.”

“Understood. Tomorrow at seven? Smith’s office?”

“Yeah. Tell everyone.” No small talk or pleasantries. It was kind of ridiculous, but it was Ahmed down to a T. So I appreciated it. The ghost was gone, although I felt like it wasn’t the last time I’d see him.