Page 22 of The Mist of Stars

I tense. “How do you know my name?”

“Oh, my hell,” he says with a groan. “Fine, if you won’t ask the right question, I guess I’ll say it for you. This life you think you’re living isn’t real.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay.”

“I’m being serious. It’s an illusion thatyoucreated,” he insists. “By accident. You were trying to reset time and totally messed it up. You do that a lot.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Are you sure about that?”

An unsettling sense of déjà vu comes over me, like I do know him, and I don’t like him. But that makes no sense. He didn’t look familiar at all.

“Is your mind spinning now?” he asks with hilarity. “Are you trying to figure out what’s real and what isn’t?”

I close my eyes from the darkness and the spinning sensation that causes nausea to churn in the pit of my stomach. “Leave me alone.”

“Not until you open your eyes again,” he singsongs.

“Go away!” I yell as I open my eyes.

Then I blink.

And blink again.

I’m no longer encompassed by darkness but standing in front of a quaint, two-story house that feels familiar. Stairs lead to a front door, and a driveway lines the right side of it.

“I’ve been here before,” I whisper as the wind blows strands of hair around my face.

“Obviously. This is where you grew up.” Nicholas materializes by my side.

I’m tall, but he’s taller. He’s also muscular, and I have this unsettling inkling that he might try to hurt me. I sidestep away from him.

“Go away …” I shake my head as what he said registers. “I didn’t grow up here.”

“You sure about that?” he challenges with an arch of his brow.

“Yeah.” But doubt weighs on my mind.

I twist back around to face the house. Sunlight is peeking through the clouds, but the air is chilly, as if an ice storm is brewing.

Like my father said …

I glance up at the sky, at the empty street, and then back at the house. “Why am I here?”

“Go inside and see.” Nicholas gestures at the house then stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the corners of his lips quirking upward. “Unless you’re too scared.”

My lips twitch in annoyance. “Just for the record, I’m not doing this because you’re taunting me. I’m doing it because there’s nothing else to do. Plus, I’m curious.” I step onto the curb then hike across the grass that’s covered with freshly fallen, crisp autumn leaves.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself!” he shouts after me with laughter in his voice.

I don’t bother turning around. My instincts tell me to ignore him.

When I arrive at the front door, I summon a deep breath then push it open. The hinges creak as I shove it all the way open and step inside. The room I walk into is a living quarter with sofas, shaggy carpet, and bare walls. No photos are in sight, as if no one lives here?—

“Gemma, hurry up, or you’ll be late for school! If you miss the bus, you’re walking!” a woman shouts from somewhere nearby.

I freeze. How does she know my name?