"Lena!" the voice cried again, desperate, scared.
She clung to the cliff's edge, knees scraping rock, her heart slamming in her chest.
One hand. One face. One second to choose.
She stared into his eyes familiar, pleading.
And suddenly, she remembered.
A moment in autumn. Jay had fallen off his motorcycle and scraped his wrist. She bandaged it, and he laughed through the pain. "You always fix things, Lena," he had said. "Even when I don't deserve it."
And there it was.
The scar. Faint, just below the wrist.
Her breath caught.
"I've got you," she whispered.
She reached down.
His fingers locked around hers, trembling with trust.
She pulled.
With a final cry, she dragged him over the edge, collapsing onto the dirt as they both gasped, alive.
He looked at her, eyes wide with disbelief.
"You chose me…"
She nodded, tears falling. "I never stopped."
Behind them, the wind whispered.
They turned. But the other Jay the artificial one was gone.
No trace.
Like he had never existed.
Only a single red rose remained, pinned against a rock. A final farewell, or a warning, Lena couldn't tell.
They sat in silence for a while, just breathing. Just being.
Back at Lena's house, the real Jay sat on her couch, his fingers wrapped around a warm mug. His hand still trembled. She sat across from him, watching, still unsure if this was all a dream.
"How long did they keep you?" she asked.
"A month. Maybe two. I lost track after the second time they rewrote my memory. But the real parts... the ones of you... they never faded."
She reached out, touching his cheek. "You feel real."
"I am real."
She leaned in. "And I need to know… was it all true? The accident? The letters? The people watching me?"
"Yes. They didn't want me to survive. They thought they could replace me. Keep you silent. But they didn't count on your heart remembering."
Lena smiled, bitter and soft. "They underestimated how stubborn love can be."
Jay's voice dropped. "There's still danger. If they know I'm alive"
"Let them come," she said, standing up. "This time, we face them together."
A knock echoed from the front door.
Jay froze.
Lena stood, her breath shallow.
She approached slowly, peeked through the window.
No one.
Just an envelope on the mat.
She opened the door, heart racing, picked it up. Her name was written in sharp, clean letters. Inside
A photograph.
Her and Jay, sitting on the couch. Right now.
It was taken… tonight.
She stepped back, fear rising.
On the back of the photo, a note:
"You chose wrong."
Lena's blood ran cold.
Jay looked at her. "What is it?"
She handed him the photo.
He stared at it, then at her.
"Lena... we're not done."
She nodded. "I know."
But for the first time, she wasn't running.
She was ready.