Nearly a week had passed since I'd reaped the soul of the man from the bridge. Nearly a week since I'd visited that strange purgatory with its faceless barista and meaningless coffee. I'd thought I'd demand answers, but all I got were more riddles.

"Why couldn't I save him?" I had asked.

"Because you're a reaper," was the simple response.

I pressed on, trying to unravel the mystery. "What does it mean to be a reaper?"

"You reap souls," was the barista's only answer.

"Why?"

"Because that's who you are."

The more I pushed, the more the answers circled back on themselves, leaving me spinning, more lost than when I started. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't break through that maddening loop of logic.

As the days wore on, I found myself longing for the simplicity of that otherworldly coffee shop. The real world felt increasingly distant, its vibrant colors and cacophony of sounds almost painful compared to the muted tones and hushed whispers of the afterlife. I was starting to feel like a ghost myself, drifting through a world that no longer felt like home.

In an attempt to anchor myself to something tangible, I'd thrown myself into observing Suzette. I tracked her schedule. She worked until 2 PM every day except Tuesdays and Thursdays when she attended art classes at the University of Chicago – the same school I was just expelled from. There were many other similarities between our lives. She lived with her boyfriend, whether he was a jerk or not, that was still undecided. Her favorite color appeared to be black, like mine, if you went by her wardrobe alone. She preferred the no make-up, ponytail look. And, of course, we both were somehow marked to die in our early twenties. Only, I'd stop her death, right? I had to, according to both Kat and Carter.

Had someone intervened in my death, too? Is that why I was still alive?

I pushed that thought away. Yeah, someone intervened all right. Me. I fought with the gatekeeper and stole the scythe myself. If you want something bad enough – like how I wanted to get back to Kat – one needs to be willing to fight for it.

Her green aura was flashing more intensely today, a constant reminder that her time was running out. The internal debate raged on – should I intervene or let fate take its course? The thought of her death consumed me, and yet, I couldn't bring myself to decide what to do.

Today, I found myself back at Bean Town Coffee with Carter, trying to act normal despite the storm raging inside me. As he walked in, his warm smile sent an unexpected flutter through my chest. For a moment, the world felt a little less gray.

"How was Paris?" I asked, forcing a smile of my own.

Carter's face lit up, and he launched into an enthusiastic retelling of his trip. His eyes sparkled as he described the hidden gems he'd discovered, the people he'd met, the stories he'd uncovered. I found myself getting lost in his infectious enthusiasm, realizing how much I'd missed his light-hearted presence.

As he spoke, I marveled at how quickly he'd become a part of my life. We'd only known each other for a few weeks before he left, but he brought a warmth I hadn't realized I was missing. His hand brushed mine as he gestured animatedly, and I felt a jolt of electricity at the contact. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to let him in, to share my burdens with someone who seemed to genuinely care.

But even as I enjoyed Carter's company, the darkness inside me threatened to spill over. How could I ever explain what I was, what I could do? This optimistic, kind-hearted man would never understand. Just like Kat. Why burden them with my impossible reality?

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And then another thought struck me. Was that what I did with my messed-up relationship with Phillip? Kept all my struggles inside until they overflowed? Until they dragged me down to an impossible low…

I tried to give Carter all my focus, the warmth he brought with his stories and his laugh, but my mind kept drifting to Suzette. She was there, behind the counter, her aura flashing like a dying neon sign in the back of my mind. With each flash, I felt a pull towards that other world, the world of endless rivers and faceless baristas.

"Kal?" Carter's voice broke through my spiraling thoughts. He was watching me, concern etched into his features. "Are you okay? You seem... distant again."

I plastered on a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… tired." I was starting to wonder why he put up with me, but honestly, I was focused on him for seventy-five percent of our coffee "date." Okay, maybe more like fifty percent.

He didn't believe my excuse; I could see that. But he didn't push. Instead, he reached across the table, covering my shaking hand with his. The warmth of his touch sent another jolt through me, momentarily grounding me in reality. "You know you can talk to me, right? About anything."

I swallowed hard, the urge to tell him everything bubbling up inside me. But I couldn't. Not now. Not ever. So, I pulled my hand away, standing up abruptly.

"Thanks, but I think I need some air," I said, avoiding his gaze.

The bell above the door chimed softly as I stepped onto the sidewalk. The cool breeze hit my face, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside me. I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I had to get a grip. I couldn't let this obsession consume me. But even as I told myself that, I knew it was already too late.

The door opened behind me, and I knew without looking that it was Carter. He stood beside me in silence for a moment before speaking. "Kal, please talk to me. I can see something's wrong. You're anxious today. Shaking, sweating, and…more distracted than usual. Is something going on?"

I shook my head, biting my lip to keep from saying something I'd regret. "I'm fine, Carter. Really."

He sighed; his frustration clear. "You're not fine. You're pulling away from me, and I don't understand why. I thought we were getting to be close… friends."

Friends. The word felt like a knife twisting in my gut. "Maybe that's the problem," I muttered, feeling the crabbiness I was now recognizing as just another sign of withdrawal bubbling up.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you should stop trying to fix me, Carter. I'm not one of your travel stories you can tie up with a neat little bow."

Carter's eyes widened, hurt and confusion warring on his face. "Kal, I'm not trying to fix you. I care about you. I just want to understand—"

"Well, you can't!" I shouted, drawing stares from people out on the street. "You can't understand, okay? So just... just leave me alone. It's better for both of us." Deep down, my own words hurt me to speak, but I didn't know what else to do but push him away. I sure as hell wasn't ready to bring him in any closer than he was already.

He stared at me for a long moment, hurt flashing in his eyes. But he didn't argue. He just nodded, stepping back. "If that's what you want."

It wasn't. But it was what I needed. I needed him away; the last thing I wanted was this darkness I harbored to consume him. Better push him away now before we both got hurt much worse later, and being around me, hurt might just be more than mental anguish.

I watched him walk away; my heart heavy with the weight of what I'd just done. But I didn't have time to dwell on it. Not with Suzette's life hanging in the balance.

I walked back into the coffee shop, my gaze immediately finding Suzette. She was staring at me now, her expression a mix of confusion and something else. Fear, maybe? I couldn't tell. But I didn't care. All I could see was the flashing green aura surrounding her, growing more intense with every passing second.

She was going to die today, I felt it with certainty that chilled me to the bone. And I still didn't know if I was going to save her or let fate take its course.

Either way, if I was being honest, I was relieved it was happening today. That way, I could move on with my life. Maybe get that job Kat had been pushing me towards. Maybe figure out what the hell I was feeling for Carter…if he would even listen when I did figure it out.

But right now, there was only one thing in this world that mattered to me. And she didn't even know my name.

As I watched Suzette work, her movements graceful despite the looming shadow of death, I felt the weight of my knowledge pressing down on me. I was the only one who knew what was coming. The only one who could potentially change it.

If I even wanted to do that. Deep down, I just craved that high waiting for me when I escorted her soul.

But as the memory of the bridge jumper flashed through my mind, I wondered – did I even have the power to change fate? Or was I just fooling myself?

The answer, I knew, would come all too soon.