The migraine hit her on the way home.
It wasn't the worst she'd ever had, but it arrived suddenly and without warning, a sharp lance of pain that made her vision blur. Mara slowed her pace, breathing carefully, willing the sensation to pass.
The city seemed… off.
Sounds lagged behind motion. A passing transport hummed a beat too late. A pedestrian's footsteps echoed after their foot had already lifted.
Mara stopped walking.
The sensation intensified, a wave of dizziness washing over her.
Then, just as suddenly, it was gone.
The world snapped back into alignment.
Her pulse hammered in her ears.
At home, she reached for her coat hook and missed. Her hand closed around empty air.
She frowned and tried again.
This time, the coat was there.
Mara froze.
She stared at the wall, her breath shallow.
That shouldn't have happened.
She knew where the hook was. She'd placed it herself. Measured the height. Aligned it precisely.
She never missed.
A chill crept up her spine.
Mara sat at her table in the dark, the city's glow filtering through the window. She pressed her palms flat against the surface, grounding herself in something solid.
Stress, she told herself.
But stress didn't create gaps in reality.
Her console chimed softly.
An incoming message.
No sender.
No routing data.
Just text.
You noticed the gap.
Mara stared at the words, her pulse quickening.
Another line appeared.
Echoes don't record memories. They overwrite them.
Her throat went dry.
She typed a single response.
Who are you?
The reply came instantly.
Someone who helped build the lie.
Mara leaned back, the migraine returning with a vengeance.
Outside, sirens wailed in the distance.
Inside, something she had trusted her entire life was beginning to fracture.