He lifts the broken watch.

  “Then why does everything still work… even after they knew you found them?”

  He lets the silence stretch.

  “Shouldn’t something... anything....have changed?”

  Chapter 11 - Before the Fall.

  Despair crashes over me like a wave.

  Lenny’s voice fades into the background, a dull murmur, like distant waves breaking somewhere far beyond reach. He’s speaking. Maybe trying to help. But the words don’t land.

  I can’t respond.

  Not because I’m hiding anything,

  But because I don’t know anymore.

  I’ve never felt this lost.

  For so long, I believed this place had to be man-made.

  It was the only explanation that made sense.

  Some twisted experiment. A cruel game orchestrated by the rich, or some secret organization.

  The deadly forest, the unnatural weather, the rules that feel so... constructed... it all pointed toward design.

  A terrible design, sure. But a human one.

  One I could understand.

  One I could maybe beat.

  But now?

  Now that explanation feels like sand slipping through my fingers.

  Because if it’s not man-made...

  If we weren’t brought here by someone....

  If this place isn’t a prison but something... other.

  Then what is it?

  A dream?

  A myth?

  A world stitched together by something beyond logic?

  I don’t want to believe that. I can’t.

  Because if this isn’t man-made, then I have no enemy. No system to break. No path forward.

  And Grace…

  Grace is still dying.

  And I still can’t save her.

  Because I don’t know what’s going on anymore.

  I thought I did.

  But now, everything I believed...every answer I clung to...feels like a lie wrapped in fog.

  I know nothing.

  The weight of it all crashes down on me.

  Confusion. Frustration. Fear. Rage.

  Helplessness.

  They rise inside me like a tide I can’t fight.

  I grab a vine hanging from the side of the clinic. My fingers tighten. My arms shake. And I rip it down with everything I have.

  Then I hurl it.

  Not at anything in particular. Just away.

  Away from me. Away from all of this.

  As if throwing it hard enough might break the illusion.

  Might force this world to make sense again.

  But nothing breaks.

  Nothing changes.

  Only me.

  Useless.

  All of it... useless.

  I grit my teeth.

  My jaw tightens.

  Lenny stands still, unsure.

  I am no different.

  I sink to my knees, the weight pressing on my chest like a stone.

  “Let me be, Mr. Lenny... I just need some time.”

  He nods, voice soft.

  “Take your time, kid. I’m here.”

  Then he turns and disappears into the clinic.

  I lie down on the cold earth. The sky is dimming into evening, but I don’t care.

  If I can’t save Grace... nothing matters.

  I wish this were all just a dream.

  I wish none of this had ever happened.

  My eyes drift shut.

  Just for a moment.

  Just to rest.

  A voice cuts through the stillness. Gentle, trembling.

  “Black... Black, wake up...”

  I stir.

  And there she is.

  Grace.

  She hovers over me like the moon in a twilight sky, cool, calm, and unbearably beautiful.

  She kneels beside me, brushing dirt from my face with a trembling hand, her palm cold and damp with panic.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispers. “I came looking for you... You were just lying here. I was so scared.”

  Her touch lingers... real, grounding. The setting sun glows behind her, painting the world in gold. For the first time in days, something feels still. Soft. Safe.

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  I don’t speak. Can’t.

  She shakes me gently again, voice cracking.

  “Black, are you okay?”

  I sit up slowly, eyes locked with hers.

  “I’m okay, Grace. I’m sorry I worried you.”

  It’s all I can manage.

  The rest stays buried, resentment, helplessness, the crushing truth.

  She studies me, uncertain.

  “You weren’t there for lunch. I waited... I think I was just worried about you.”

  A pause.

  “This place... it’s not safe.”

  She doesn’t mean the island. Or the countdown.

  She means me.

  The shift I’ve caused.

  The unraveling that started the moment I arrived.

  The way my presence has stirred something in this place

  a quiet panic bubbling beneath the surface,

  ready to explode into violence at any moment.

  And worst of all

  I don’t even know how I did it.

  I nod, ashamed. “I’m sorry. From now on... I won’t disappear again. We do everything together.”

  The words come too confidently, too easily.

  I didn’t ask her if that’s what she wants. I just said it.

  But maybe... deep down, I knew.

  Maybe she feels it too.

  Her worried expression softens into a small smile, tired, but real.

  “Okay then...”

  She rises to her feet, brushing off her skirt, and holds out a hand to me.

  “Come on. I want to show you something. The sun’s already setting, we don’t have much time.”

  Her words sting.... we don’t have much time.

  But I take her hand anyway, and try to smile.

  “Yeah... let’s go.”

  She pulls me up, her hand firm around mine, like she’s afraid to let go.

  And as always, she doesn’t wait. She leads.

  Drags me forward.

  Forward?

  Toward White’s place?

  I hesitate, eyes narrowing with confusion.

  The path ahead gleams, but my thoughts don’t.

  "Where are we going" I ask.

  “You’ll see,” she says, a small smile hiding something.

  A few steps later, we’re near White’s house.

  Too close.

  “Close your eyes,” she says.

  “What?”

  “Just do it.”

  I hesitate, but I obey. Eyes shut, hand still in hers, I follow her footsteps, unsure, unsteady.

  There’s a shift in sound, something unexpected. Gentle. Flowing.

  “Open them.”

  I do.

  And what I see… doesn’t belong here.

  A small hill rises before us, crowned by a graceful waterfall that slips into a pond of fire-colored glass, orange and red reflecting the dying sun. The water glows like it’s holding the sky’s final breath. The sun admires itself in the mirrored surface, dressed in its best. It feels like we’ve stepped into a painting.

  A place like this… in a world like this?

  It doesn’t fit.

  Something uneasy stirs inside me. Suspicion. Doubt.

  And yet…

  The air brushes gently across my skin, carrying the scent of wet earth. It smells like it just rained. The breeze, the colors, the way she stands beside me... it’s all too beautiful to question.

  “I love it here,” she whispers.

  “It makes everything else disappear. My mind feels... still. Like the water.”

  I glance around, my eyes widening. The moonlight dances on the surface, the air is quiet, sacred.

  “Where are we?” I murmur.

  Only then do I realize...

  We’re just behind White’s house.

  This beauty...

  It’s been hiding in plain sight.

  So close to him.

  So close to danger.

  And yet, it feels untouched. Like a secret meant only for us.

  Grace sits down beside the water’s edge. The ground is damp, soft beneath us.

  She exhales slowly, taking it all in like it’s a gift.

  And I look at her, not just at her face, but at the way she sees the world. How she finds beauty in places I only find fear. How she holds onto light even in the darkest corners. That’s what makes her different.

  That’s what makes her everything.

  “Thank you for this,” I say, my voice quieter now. “I needed it.”

  We sit in silence near the water. Tiny fish dart beneath the surface. The pond is dotted with lotus leaves, broad, green, floating peacefully, but no flowers bloom. Not yet.

  And for a moment, I forget where I am.

  Because this... this can’t be the place we’re trapped in.

  This isn’t part of the nightmare.

  How can White’s house, and everything around it, be this perfect, while the rest of us rot in a prison wrapped in pretty lies?

  My thoughts are cut short.

  Without a word, Grace leans against me.

  Her head rests on my shoulder, gentle. Trusting.

  I don’t move.

  I don’t want to move.

  Because for the first time in what feels like forever...

  I don’t feel alone.

  I can feel the rhythm of her breath, soft, steady, like a lullaby meant only for me.

  As the sun tucks itself away, she rises like the moon, quiet, radiant, inevitable.

  And in this moment, I find myself wishing time would stop.

  Right here. Right now.

  Frozen in this fragile perfection.

  The world fades around us. Shadows stretch long. The sky turns indigo, then velvet, until stars begin to bloom.

  But none shine brighter than the one beside me.

  Then... my stomach growls.

  Grace laughs, a sound like wind chimes stirred by a gentle breeze.

  “You shouldn't skip lunch you know.” she says, her voice warm. “That’s no good.”

  I smile, sheepish. “Yeah…”

  “Okay then,” she murmurs. “Let’s go.”

  She rises slowly, as if reluctant to leave the dream behind.

  Then, she turns... and for the first time, offers me her hand.

  Not grabbing it like she always does.

  Not to tug me forward. Not to force.

  But to invite.

  Moonlight wraps around her like a halo, and for a second, she doesn’t feel real.

  She looks like something out of a story, a wish made flesh.

  An angel sent to find someone lost in the dark.

  She doesn’t speak.

  She doesn’t need to.

  Because this is more than a gesture.

  This is a choice.

  A promise.

  A quiet commitment to something far more beautiful than anything I’ve ever known in this world.

  And somehow, I know...

  This is the moment everything changes.

  I take her hand, fingers fitting perfectly between mine, and rise to meet her eyes.

  No words needed.

  Not when her breath says everything her lips don’t.

  She turns, still holding my hand, guiding me toward the long house, but somehow it feels like she’s leading me home.

  And I follow, not because I must,

  but because, for the first time in a long while, I want to.

  We reach the long house.

  “Ahhh, it smells good today! I wonder what it is…” she says brightly, her voice carrying that soft, playful wonder I’ve come to love.

  It does smell good. Warm. Inviting.

  But my focus is elsewhere.

  A light, faint but steady, flickers from my house. Not bright enough for anyone else to notice, but to me, it’s unmistakable.

  Too dim to be friendly.

  Too soft to be hostile.

  A signal, aimed at me and me alone.

  My heart tightens.

  I glance at Grace. “Hey, you go ahead. I need to use the bathroom real quick. I’ll catch up, yeah?”

  Her expression shifts, the light in her eyes flickering for a second. Concern. Curiosity. Maybe something more.

  “Oh… okay,” she says, masking it with a smile. “Don’t take too long.”

  With that, she turns and walks toward the long house.

  And I walk toward my own.

  As I get closer, the light fades, its message already delivered.

  I step inside.

  Silence greets me. I light the lamp. The flame dances, casting long shadows against the walls.

  Then I turn toward where the signal came from, only to see exactly what I expected.

  White.

  Same pale hair. Now dressed in all white, as if the color could cleanse what he carries.

  He smiles at me. Gentle, but distant. Cold.

  “It’s time,” he says softly.

  My heart stills.

  I stare at him, my face dark, unreadable. “Time for what?”

  He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t flinch.

  He just speaks.

  Two words. Simple.

  But they crash into me like a mountain falling from the sky.

  “Grace dies tomorrow.”

  The air leaves my lungs.

  He steps forward. “You must act now.”