"If I touch you," she asked hesitantly, "what happens?"
No answer came, just that steady gaze and extended hand.
Samantha stared at the apparition's outstretched fingers, frozen in indecision. The chamber around them pulsed with gentle light, as if encouraging her to take the leap of faith. Nova stirred against her chest, making a soft sound that might have been curiosity or concern.
"You're not real," Samantha whispered again, but with less conviction this time.
And then, breaking the silence that had surrounded him since his appearance, Callum spoke.
"Does it matter?"
His voice—that voice—washed over her like a physical caress. The same warm timbre, the same slight rasp on certain syllables, the same cadence that had talked her through countless crises and celebrated every triumph by her side. It was perfect. Too perfect.
"You sound exactly like him," she breathed, her heart hammering so hard she was certain Nova could feel it against her tiny body.
