PREVIEW

... ecognized.

What had once been a cheerful brick building with colorful murals was now a crystalline structure that bent reality around itself, its playground equipment fused into impossible geometric shapes that hurt to look at directly.

Elena's breath caught in her throat as memories flooded back.

I was seven years old, racing across that same playground during recess. Mrs. Patterson reading story time under the oak tree that was now a twisted spire of frozen space-time. ...

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