The room was dim when Dahlia opened her eyes.

  The curtains didn't fully block out the light, so the midday sun was already beginning to slip through the edges.

  She sat up slowly—not because of her body, but because of the weight in her chest.

  The night before had been too much.

  She washed her face with cold water, tied her hair into a messy bun, threw on an oversized T-shirt, and headed downstairs to the dining room. Her bare feet made almost no sound against the floor. Everything was quiet, except for the soft hum of the automatic coffee machine.

  "Miss Dahlia?" said a deep voice from across the room. "Good morning... or rather, good afternoon."

  It was Enrique.

  "Coffee?" he offered, already pouring without waiting for an answer.

  "Yes, please," she murmured, accepting the warm cup with both hands like someone receiving a secret.

  She sat in one of the long dining chairs. The steam from the coffee rose straight to her face, and with it, the thoughts returned.

  The cold pendant against her skin. She touched it instinctively. She had worn it since last night.

  She thought of Viki. Her disappearance. The blurred figure she'd left with.

  She thought of the Wendigo. The creature Nicco had turned to ash without blinking. Of his power, of the shadows he now controlled.

  She thought of Kali. Of that strange bond, that connection she didn't understand, but felt like an echo in her bones.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  And of Tom. Just looking at him in those photos yesterday felt like staring through time itself.

  And then, for the first time, she dared to truly wonder:

  Did she feel something for him?

  Or was it just that damned echo of other lives?

  Was this feeling inevitable?

  The coffee was strong. Bitter. But she needed it that way.

  "Maybe I'm overthinking it... I don't even know him," she thought.

  She closed her eyes for a moment. The pendant still rested on her chest. And for the first time, she allowed herself to whisper:

  "What am I supposed to do now...?"

  And just then, she heard two voices.

  Kali and Nicco.

  Their voices carried through the hallway, approaching. They sounded happier than usual, which made her guess something good had happened.

  And yet, a smile crept onto Dahlia's lips.

  She realized something.

  They were all starting to understand that this wasn't a normal story. That the pieces didn't fit neatly. That they were walking toward a fate they hadn't asked for... but one that was already becoming a part of them.

  The cycle kept turning.

  And no matter how hot the coffee was, it couldn't burn what was already engraved in the soul.

  Dahlia didn't have to turn to know who they were.

  The mischievous tone in Kali's voice, mixed with Nicco's low laugh, spoke to her in a language all its own. They entered the dining room like a private storm that didn't ask permission. His hair was still slightly damp, his shirt undone, and he carried that same air of "I sleep terribly, but I fuck incredibly" that clung to him like seductive fog. Kali, meanwhile, wore his shirt—nothing else—and had that satisfied smile of someone who'd been thoroughly worshipped all night.

  Dahlia didn't look at them right away. She just took another sip of coffee, as if the heat might shield her from the obvious.

  "Good... midday!" Kali sang cheerfully. "Survived your thoughts?"

  "Barely. You two...? Any news?" Dahlia replied, raising an eyebrow and flashing a mischievous grin.

  Nicco sat down across from them with a cup of coffee Enrique had already prepared, as if he knew his schedule and moods by heart.

  "Yes. My principessa and I are a thing now," he said, tossing a look at Kali that left little to the imagination, but was full of tenderness.

  Kali scoffed playfully, snatching a piece of bread from the central basket with a smile.

  The three of them kept chatting in a playful atmosphere as they ate.

  But it wouldn't last long...