The confetti cannon exploded! Streams of shimmering paper rained down on Amelia as she bounced on the balls of her feet. This was it β the launch of the new edition of her absolute favorite book, *Crimson Tides* by Jasper Thorne. Sheβd pre-ordered it months ago, and the delivery guy was practically still on the porch. Clutching the pristine novel, she dashed inside, already smelling the intoxicating scent of fresh ink and new pages. She couldn't wait.
She sat on the plush sofa, the sunlight streaming in the window warm on her face. A giggle escaped her lips as she began to read. Thorne's prose, his imagery, the sheer genius of his plot twists β it was intoxicating. A thrill coursed through her, a tingling sensation in her fingertips as the words pulled her in.
Then, a flicker. A memory. A small story she'd written in college, tucked away in an old, dusty notebook. Her heart began to pound a frantic tattoo against her ribs.
The sinking feeling that followed stole the air from her lungs. Page by page, the echoes became undeniable. The same characters, the same situations, the same exquisitely crafted phrases. Her stomach twisted, a cold knot forming, even as the confetti continued to dance in the now dimming light.