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"Is it deep enough yet?" she whispered, her voice sounding like sand hitting a microphone.

He looked through the fracture and saw not a forest or a city, but a woman standing in a field of static. She looked exactly like the model in the photograph—still, poised, yet vibrating with a silent scream. She wasn't waiting for him to save her; she was waiting for him to acknowledge that they were both just echoes. HeidyModel-051_011.jpg

One morning, the light hit the floor at an angle that shouldn't have existed. It wasn't the programmed glow of the artificial sun. It was a sharp, jagged gold. Elias followed it to the corner of the room where the glass met the shadow. There, a single crack had formed—not in the wall, but in the logic of his existence. "Is it deep enough yet