Katherine stood frozen as the words left Zamir's lips, the weight of them pressing down on her chest.
"You're not from this world."
How did he know? Was he secretly a mind reader? A prophet? A reincarnation of Imaw?
She swallowed hard, keeping her expression neutral despite the storm raging in her head. I don't even talk about my old world out loud—how did he figure it out?
"I… I don't know what you mean," she said, her voice a little too high-pitched for someone trying to sound casual. She took a small step back, gripping the wooden toy in her hands. "I'm just—"
Zamir narrowed his eyes. "You're bad at lying."
Katherine stiffened. "Excuse me?"
He tilted his head, scrutinizing her like she was an insect under a magnifying glass. "I already said it once. You don't belong here. It's obvious."
Obvious? Obvious?! She had spent her entire time here trying to blend in, and yet this man—who she had barely spoken to for five minutes—had somehow cracked the code. Was she walking around with a sign that said Otherworlder on her forehead?
She forced a laugh, waving a dismissive hand. "What? That's ridiculous. I'm as local as—uh, as a—"
"You're thinking too hard about it." Zamir crossed his arms, completely unimpressed. "You reacted like you'd seen a ghost when you heard Florante's name. You've been clutching that necklace like it's your last lifeline. And your accent? Weird."
Katherine's mouth opened, then closed. My accent?
"...I have an accent?"
Zamir exhaled sharply through his nose. "Not one from anywhere around here."
Oh, fantastic. She wasn't just a walking mystery—she was a foreign walking mystery. Well, that's just great.
She sighed, rubbing her temple. There was no use denying it now. If he had already caught on, then arguing was pointless.
"You're right," she finally admitted, her voice quieter. "I'm not from here."
Zamir didn't react much, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—satisfaction? Understanding?
"Then you know you can't stay," he said simply.
Katherine frowned. "What do you mean?"
"This world isn't kind to outsiders," Zamir said, his tone calm but carrying an edge of warning. "The longer you stay, the harder it is to leave."
A chill ran down her spine. "That's a bit ominous, don't you think?"
Zamir shrugged. "I don't make the rules."
Katherine exhaled slowly, trying to process his words.
"Never leave?" That sounded dramatic. It wasn't like she had signed some supernatural contract binding her soul here—right?
Then again… the way she got here was a little sketchy.
She frowned, rubbing the back of her neck. "Okay, but I don't even know how I got here. It's not like I jumped into a portal with a passport and a suitcase."
Zamir hummed. "You're not the first to be pulled into this world."
Her stomach dropped.
She straightened, eyes locking onto his. "Wait. Others? You mean… this has happened before?"
Zamir glanced toward the shop's shelves, as if deciding how much to tell her. "There have been others. Some tried to leave." A pause. "Most failed."
Katherine swallowed. "And the ones who did leave?"
A flicker of amusement crossed his face. "Who said anyone did?"
She stared at him, the weight of his words settling in.
No. That couldn't be right. This wasn't some permanent thing. There had to be a way back. She still had a life—a family, a home. She couldn't be stuck here.
Her breath quickened as a new, terrible thought began to creep in.
What if I wasn't just transported here? What if I… died?
The memory slammed into her like a wave.
A child. A terrified, helpless child in the middle of chaos. The deafening sound of gunfire. The adrenaline pumping through her veins as she moved without thinking.
And then—pain. A sharp, searing pain in her side.
She had fallen. The world had blurred. Her body had gone cold.
And then… nothing.
No sound. No fear. Just an empty darkness.
Katherine's grip on the toy tightened as she struggled to steady herself. I felt it. I felt myself die.
Her pulse pounded in her ears. Her hands felt numb. She looked down at them—warm, alive, but… were they real?
If her body had died back home, then what was this? A second life? An afterlife?
Her voice came out small, almost afraid. "Zamir…"
He glanced at her, his expression unreadable.
"What if I'm dead?" she whispered.
For a moment, Zamir didn't respond. Then he exhaled, his gaze dark and unreadable.
"I can't tell you what you are," he said. "But I can tell you this—once this world pulls you in, it doesn't let go easily."
A shiver ran down her spine.
Maybe she was dead. Maybe King Yama couldn't decide if she belonged in heaven or hell, so he just… dropped her here.
Katherine swallowed, pressing a hand against her forehead. "I… I need to sit down."
Zamir didn't stop her as she slumped into the nearest chair. He didn't offer comfort, didn't reassure her that everything would be fine. He simply watched, as if waiting to see how she would handle the truth.
For a long moment, she sat in silence, staring at the floor.
Then, slowly, she exhaled and straightened.
"Well," she said, forcing some steadiness into her voice. "If I'm stuck here, I might as well make myself at home."
Zamir raised a brow. "That's quick acceptance."
"Not really." She rubbed her temple. "I'm still freaking out, I'm just choosing to do it internally like a normal person."
Zamir's lips twitched—just slightly, like he was holding back an amused smirk.
Katherine leaned back in her chair, thinking.
If there was no way back, she would have to adjust. She would have to learn how to live in this world.
But… if there was a way back, she would find it.
"I want to see my parents again," she murmured.
Zamir didn't respond.
Katherine sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Anyway. You probably have better things to do than listen to my existential crisis."
Without a word, Zamir turned and started tidying the cluttered counter, clearly done with the conversation.
"I'll be here if you need anything," he said, back to his usual cool, detached tone.
Katherine stood up, feeling just a little steadier.
"Thanks," she said.
She turned and headed for the door.
She didn't have all the answers. She still didn't know what she was or why she was here.
But she would figure it out. One step at a time.