(Sanya's POV)
Over the next few days, strange things start happening.
I'm in the kitchen one afternoon, preparing lunch for myself, and I'm thinking about Aaron, about how he's gone now, how I watched him fade away into nothing, and I'm trying to focus on the simple task of cooking because it's the only thing that makes me feel normal, the only thing that reminds me I'm still alive, still here, still breathing despite everything that's happened.
I reach for the pot on the stove, and my hand knocks it sideways, and the boiling water tips, spills, comes rushing toward my arm, and I don't have time to move, don't have time to pull away, and I close my eyes, bracing for the burn, for the pain that's about to sear through my skin.
But it doesn't come.
I open my eyes.
The water hangs in mi
