He didn’t flinch. Just stood th


    ere, staring.


    “Do you know me?” I asked, not even bothering with a smile.


    Belonging ? N?velDram/a.Org.


    “No.”


    I gave him a once–over. He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy you’d notice right away, but the more I


    looked, the more attractive he seemed. Today, he’d swapped the hoodie for a light blue T–shirt,


    looking clean andid–back. Casual, but in a way that worked for him.


    “So, we just keep bumping into each other for fun, huh?” I shot back, not buying his “no” for a


    second.


    “We don’t know each other,” he sa


    it you look a lot like someone I know.”


    I couldn’t help it–Iughed. Really? That line was so old, it could’ve been my grandma’s.


    Seeing the mockery in my smile, he blushed. “I’m serious, I can show you.”


    Before I could say anything, he pulled out his phone and swiped a few times. When he held it up,


    my breath caught. Staring back at me was a girl with a bright smile, her hair in a perfect bun. She


    looked like me–like, freakishly close. The only real difference was a little beauty mark by her eye,


    something I didn’t have.


    I stared at the photo for what felt like forever before finally meeting his eyes again. “She does look


    like me. But I swear, I don’t know her.”


    “I know,” he said. He pocketed his phone, looking almost sad.


    “Then why are you following me?” I asked, ncing down at his sneakers. Not exactly giving off


    creepy stalker vibes, more like… gym teacher? Or maybe a grad student?


    He didn’t say anything.


    I figured he was feeling guilty, so I cut straight to it. “Dude, this is stalking. I could totally call the


    cops.”


    His eyes widened a bit. “I–I don’t mean any harm. I swear.”


    +


    “Look, even if you’re not trying to be creepy, following a girl around? Not okay. It’s sketchy, and it


    makes me feel unsafe. You get that, right?” My voice took on a more serious edge, the way I’d talk


    to someone at work who was messing up.


    He dropped his head a little. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”


    I sighed. “Look, you don’t seem like a bad guy. But yesterday and today? Not okay. Don’t make it a


    thing.” It was a warning.


    He didn’t


    argue, and I started to walk away.


    “Wait,” he called out.


    I paused, turning back.


    “My name’s Wade Smith. I’m a PhD student,” he said, pulling out his student ID.


    My eyes flicked to the school name: Kelhmark Royal Academy. Whoa. That was, like, the elite


    school in Kelhmark.


    Suddenly, he wasn’t just some random guy. Yesterday, watching him take off like that, I know there


    was something different about him. And now, bam–my instincts were totally on point.


    *KRA was my dream,” I admitted with a littleugh, handing his ID back. “Didn’t get in though.


    Guess it wasn’t meant to be.”


    It was true. I didn’t go to KRA because of Jace. He hadn’t wanted to, and me, being a lovesick idiot,


    decided to follow his lead instead of my own ns. Spoiler alert: neither of us ended up there.


    Thinking about it now, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at how dumb I’d been.


    Wade’s expression changed, gettin


    really sick. She might not make it m


    -e


    e serious. “The girl in the photo you saw… she’s really sick. Like,


    onger.”


    I blinked, not expecting that. ‘Is she your girlfriend?”


    He swallowed, his jaw tightening. “No. She’s my advisor.”


    A brilliant girl, from the sound of it, but something awful had happened.


    “What happened to her?” I asked softly, not sure if I should.


    His face crumpled a little, like he was holding back more than he wanted to. “It wasn’t an illness.


    She was in… in a car crash. About a year ago.”


    There was a weird, heavy pause. Even though his words were choppy, I got it. I nced at him, the


    sadness rolling off him, and blurted, “Was the ident your fault?”


    His head dropped even lower, and after what felt like forever, he barely whispered, “Yeah.”


    Suddenly, everything clicked–the sadness, the way he kept looking at me. He saw his advisor in


    me. Or, at least, who she used to be.


    I didn’t know how to make this better, so I just asked, “She’s not going to wake up, is she?*


    He wouldn’t be talking like this if there was any hope.


    Wade shook his head, his voice breaking, “No. She’s only alive because of the machines.”


    A knot twisted in my chest.