Alina's pov

My phone pinged, it was a message and it read,

"The Greens,

08:00 hours,

I have something for you"

It was from a stranger.

I wasn't, of course, going to meet him. I mean, despite ample evidence to the contrary, I am not stupid.

I have, in the past, met various people at various appointed times and found myself, hours later, either tied to a chair, thrust into a parallel dimension, forced to don one-piece swimsuits, or being otherwise cruelly mistreated.

I was not going to meet Paul Slater after work. I was so not.

And then I did anyway.

Well, what else was I supposed to do? The lure was just too great.

I mean, actual documented evidence about mediators? Something about people being able to take over other peoples bodies?

All the nightmares about long, fog-enshrouded hallways in the world were not going to keep me from finding out the truth at last about what I was and what I could do.

I had spent too many years wondering just that to allow an opportunity like this