Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 40

I'm in that dream again...

The boy turned into a moth, again.
It was always the same beginning.

He stood on the edge of a field, silent and unblinking. And then... without hesitation... he leapt. His body cracked open into wings, fragile and trembling, as he flew straight toward the fire.

And this time… he screamed.

The sound wasn't fear. It was fury.
A war cry into the wind.
Like he'd been waiting his whole life to burn.

I was floating above him again, helpless as always. My hands reached for him.... outstretched, aching, desperate.
But then the roots came.

They slithered from the earth like fingers, wrapping tight around my legs, winding up my spine, coiling through my ribs. They didn't strangle. They anchored.

I kicked. I begged. I screamed too.
But the fire didn’t wait.

The moth turned boy turned to ash. And as he disintegrated, he looked up at me.
His eyes... gold, or maybe gray, or maybe both.... were impossibly sad.
Like he knew I couldn’t save him.
Like I was never meant to.

“Betty. Earth to Betty.”

Fingers snapped in front of my face.

I blinked. The room reassembled around me... chalkboard, desks, the smell of floor polish and faded aircon.
Room 109.

Inez was crouched beside my desk, one eyebrow raised, her lanyard twisted around her finger like a ribbon.

“You’ve been staring at your bracelet for five whole minutes. You okay? Or are you summoning demons?”

I glanced down at the bracelet on my wrist. The silver butterfly charm shimmered faintly under the fluorescent lights, catching flashes of memory with it.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, voice too soft to convince either of us.

Inez tilted her head. “You sure? You looked like you were… somewhere else.”

I nodded. And for once, I didn’t joke back. I just offered her a half-smile.

Because I couldn’t tell her. Not yet.
I didn’t even have the words for it. How do you tell someone that a boy you’ve never met keeps turning to ash in your dreams? That you wake up feeling like you’ve lost something ancient? That no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop the fire... or the roots?

Inez didn’t push. She never did. Instead, she plopped into the seat beside me and leaned back with a sigh, the kind that announced gossip or overwhelm. I could never tell which.

“So…” she said, drawing the word out like taffy. “Are you ready to talk about the fact that you’re organizing prom with Matt, aka the boy formerly known as Respectable, now rebranded as Broody Leather Jacket?”

I exhaled through my nose. “It’s not with him. I’m just… consulting.”

“Mm-hmm.” She gave me a look. “Consulting on spreadsheets while he silently judges your existence. Fun.”

I smiled faintly. “He didn’t judge me. He was just… clinical.”

“Betty.” She turned toward me. “This is prom. You’re supposed to be giggling over centerpieces and arguing about balloon arches... not… filing budget breakdowns under his moody glare.”

I traced the butterfly charm with my thumb, letting its edges ground me. “He doesn’t care about prom. Not really. He just wants it to be efficient. That’s all.”

“And what do you want?” she asked gently.

The question hung in the air like the aftertaste of a secret.