Prologue

Prologue

The truth doesn’t always have to be told.

It doesn’t always set you free. Sometimes, it imprisons you. Locks you inside a dark, empty room, where the only key is a lie.

Today is October 1st.

The day the whispers in my ears begin to prattle again.

First comes the ringing. Then the murmuring. The babbling. A thousand voices speaking at once, each one louder than the last. They crawl into my thoughts, twisting every memory until I can no longer tell what’s real and what isn’t.

You’re better off dead.

You should’ve died that day.

Everything about you is a lie.

Liar!!!

Maybe they’re right.

My whole existence is a lie, and with every passing day, I find myself forgetting what the truth is. The whole truth. Whatever remains of my memories feels like a puzzle with half its pieces missing. I try to remember, but every time I reach for the past, my mind draws a blank.

And I’m tired of searching.

I stand at the edge of a bridge, breathing hard. The wind tugs at my clothes, growing stronger with every passing second. A storm is coming. One more gust, and I might lose my balance.

The night is darker than I remember. Clouds smother the sky, turning it into a vast, pitch-black emptiness. The streets below are strangely quiet. No passing cars. No footsteps. Only the distant wail of sirens, fading into the darkness.

Perfect, isn’t it?

I’m done.

I’ve had enough of everything. Even if I tried to tell the truth now—to set things right—it would be too late. Too late to undo what I’ve done. Too late to become someone other than the person I’ve turned into.

I look out at the darkness, searching for something familiar. Something that might remind me who I used to be.

Nothing.

I wonder if anyone will remember me after tonight. If the name Raina Joaquin will mean anything to anyone. Perhaps they’ll forget me as easily as I’ve forgotten myself.

Maybe that’s the point of living a lie. Eventually, no one knows who you really are.

I draw one last breath.

Then I jump.

The cold wind rushes against my body as I fall. For a brief moment, everything is silent. The voices disappear. The ringing stops. And I’m left with nothing but the rushing air and the darkness waiting below.

There is no family waiting for my goodbye. No friends to receive a final letter. I search my mind for a reason to live, for anything worth holding on to.

Nothing comes.

For a moment, I wonder if dying is really as terrible as everyone says.

Then, just before I hit the water, terror steals the breath from my lungs.

A sudden, desperate dread rises inside me.

I want to live.

But it's too late

“Is she dead?”

“How is this possible?”

“I think she’s dead!”

“Shut up, Hue!”

“There’s no way this is happening!”