Chapter Two: The Day Remade

Her final words had been: “If you board that ship, we’re over.” Four hours later, White Whale disappeared. “Finish the chorus and you’ll return to that day,” the woman said. “You may change one decision. Whatever voice calls you, don’t turn around before the song ends.” “What does it cost?” “Reality takes one relationship from you to seal the break.” “Which one?” The woman was silent. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be standing here.” Wind lifted her hair, revealing a crescent scar behind her right ear. Xia Mi carried the same scar from a childhood fall. Before she could grasp the implication, the chorus began. Seawater climbed over the stage. A second microphone appeared. “Sing,” the woman said. “You came all this way for one sentence.”