Nora's POV
"No. I'm fine," I respond, forcing my lips into what I hope passes for a smile while studying the dark-haired woman. Something about her tugs at my memory, though I'm certain she's just another creation of whatever twisted reality I've stumbled into. As she walks away, I catch a glimpse of her name tag - Mirabella. Not exactly common for someone my age. Taking a deep breath, I move past the circulation desk toward the nonfiction shelves, though I couldn't explain what exactly I'm searching for. Everything feels charged with an otherworldly energy.
Several books find their way into my hands before my vision starts to blur again. My temples throb as I close my eyes tight, setting the stack down carefully. Both hands press against my head as something like electricity dances across my fingertips, sending sharp jolts through my skull.
Then clarity hits me like a freight train - every single detail floods back into my consciousness.
