He's there. Jason Marek.
His hair hangs in gray-streaked ropes over his shoulders. His eyes were sharp, glassy, too deep; cutting through me like they already know everything I came to say.
He doesn't stand. Doesn't blink. Just waits, like a hunter with all the time in the world.
"Can I help you?" His voice hums low and calm, too calm. It presses on my chest like a heavy stone.
"I…" My throat feels raw. "I need to know. About a girl. Lena Carter. The prophecy." The words tumble out like they're running from something. "Please… tell me what you said. I have to know."
His gaze stays fixed, still as a blade. "Few come seeking truths they're ready to bear," he murmurs. "Most leave wishing they hadn't come at all."
"I'm not here for riddles!" My voice cracks, loud in the hushed dark. "I need the truth. About her. About what you told her!"
A pause. The kind that feels like a lifetime.
"I told her the truth," he says, soft as smoke. "One that cannot be broken."
My heartbeat is a drum in my ears. "Say it. Word for word."
He exhales like the room itself deflates.
"She will not live past twenty-five," he says, voice like ice sliding under my skin. "That is the fate carved in her bones. The only truth that matters."
The floor tilts. I stumble back, my hands grabbing the counter. The wood is rough, biting into my palms.
"No…" My voice splinters. "No, that's not real. That can't be real! There has to be something…something you're not telling me! A way around it, another prophecy…anything!"
"There is nothing else." His tone doesn't rise, doesn't falter. Just cuts. "Some try. They fail. They burn themselves hollow chasing ghosts. Fate does not bend for bargains. It does not answer prayers. It is only… understood."
"I don't understand!" My words tear out, ragged and wild. "How do you expect me to just let her die? How do you sit there and talk like this like…like it's weather, like it's nothing."
The sob rips free before I can choke it down. My chest is a collapsing building. My lungs forget how to work.
His eyes never leave mine. Unblinking. Unmoving. "Because it is nothing you can change. Not with grief. Not with defiance."
"I won't accept that." My nails dig into the wood till it splinters. "Tell me what I have to do. A spell, a charm, a trade. I'll give you anything. Anything."
For the first time, something flickers in his gaze. Pity, maybe. Or warning.
"If you need to know more…" His voice sinks to a whisper, heavy as the grave. "…it will be because of you."
The air disappears. "Me?" The word claws out of my throat. "What do you mean me? You said… you said I'd be the reason?"
His face is carved from stone. His voice even colder.
"Her death will involve you. That is how the prophecy unfolds. Do not test what cannot be altered."
"No…" My head shakes hard enough to hurt. "Why me? What did I do?"
"You came here." For a moment, just a moment, I think I see sorrow flicker in his eyes. "You asked for a truth you were not built to hold. Now you carry it. Go."
Tears burn down my face, hot and merciless. I cling to the counter like a lifeline, like I can pull a different answer from the grain of the wood. "No. No, you don't know her. You don't know us. She's alive. She's everything. You can't just…leave it like this!"
He watches me for a long, shattering silence. Then, quiet as death:
"Love does not shield from fate. Neither courage nor devotion. You will learn this soon enough."
⟡ ✧ ⟡
The candlelight swims. The jars blur into streaks of color and shadow. My body moves without me, staggering toward the door. The bell tolls behind me like a funeral bell.
Outside, the air tastes sharp, bitter. The world goes on, bright and loud and merciless.
My phone buzzes.
Lena.
Her name lights up the screen like a little sun in all this black.
A joke. Three laughing emojis.
I stare until my vision warps, until my chest hollows like something scooped me out from the inside. My fingers twitch to answer. To send something back. Anything.
But I don't. I can't.
Because all I see now is the number twenty-five burning like fire across her skin.
And my name carved right next to it.
Older me, writing this now, remembers the exact moment innocence died. The instant the future became a prison. Love was no shield. Hope was no cure. And I had no choice but to carry the weight of knowing what was coming.
I sit by the window on the bus, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ache. The city slides past, streets and neon signs blurring into one long, cold streak. My heart is still hammering from the shop, from the words I can't unhear.
She will not live past twenty-five.
You will be the reason.
I keep staring at my reflection in the glass. The boy staring back doesn't feel like me. He's hollowed out, like a shell carrying someone else's fear. My hands won't stop trembling.
The passengers around me chatter and laugh, but it's like they're behind a wall of glass I can't break through. Lena's text from earlier, full of emojis and movie plans, buzzes again. I don't open it. I can't. I can't feel the sunlight she brings anymore.
I try to think of Nate's words from yesterday, the way he trusted me to take care of her, the way he smiled and patted my shoulder. Take care of her. Those words feel heavier than they ever did. What if "taking care" isn't enough?
The bus hits a bump and my stomach lurches. I close my eyes and hold onto the seat in front of me. Panic and disbelief fight inside my chest. I have to protect her. I have to fix this. But how? How?
By the time the bus pulls into my stop, the world outside is dark and quiet. I step off, moving through the streets on autopilot, feet dragging, bag heavy on my shoulder. Every shadow seems to mock me.
I can't go home yet, not to my parents, not to the chaos of shouting and silent walls. I wander, just a little, letting the night swallow me. The knowledge burns inside me, a fire I can't extinguish.
I step off the bus, the night swallowing me in darkness. Streetlights flicker overhead, cutting the sidewalks into jagged patches of light and shadow. My legs feel like lead. My chest feels like it's being crushed from the inside.
I walk. Slowly. Every shadow seems to reach for me. Every passing car blares past like a warning. I think of what Jason Marek said. You will be the reason.
A cold, choking panic rises in my throat. If I stay with her, if I keep loving her… I'll be the cause. I can feel it. I can feel the weight of it pressing down, crushing my lungs.
I stop in the middle of the sidewalk. My fingers clutch the strap of my bag. My vision swims. My heart beats so loud it feels like it will split my chest open. I can't move. I can't think.
Another text. Lena again. And I realize, I can't tell her. I can't tell anyone. Not Nate. Not Josh. Not even myself.
Somewhere deep inside, a voice whispers, thin and terrified: If I stay… I'm the end of her.
The night closes in. I'm frozen. Alone. And nothing will ever feel safe again.