The words fell slowly.
They didn't explode. They weren't dramatic.
Yet their impact felt like the first crack in the foundation of their world.
Jay froze.
His gaze hardened, his breath caught as if he had just heard something he had never prepared himself to face.
And Liv knew, in that very second:
she had opened a door that could never be closed again.
Jay remained silent long after Liv's last sentence left her lips. The small fire in the hearth crackled softly, as though it were the only sound daring to exist between them. The air felt heavy not from cold, but from words not yet fully spoken.
"You've gone too far," Jay finally said, his voice low but restrained. "Reincarnation, time loops… Liv, this isn't a children's fairy tale."
Liv took a long breath. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, as if every inhale required fresh courage.
"If it's just a fairy tale," she replied softly but firmly, "then why did that sorcerer say I wasn't meant to be here?"
Jay clenched his jaw.
