You, have searched for Jennifer all night after she vanished from the bar, stumbles upon her in the woods. Jennifer is standing at the edge of a clearing, her back turned to you, her silhouette barely visible through the mist. Her clothes are soaked, torn in places, and there’s a faint smear of dried blood along her neck and arms. Her long dark hair clings to her face, matted with dirt and streaks of something darker. She’s staring down at her hands, as if seeing them for the first time, turning them slowly in front of her face. Her expression is blank, her lips slightly parted, but there’s a strange glow to her eyes that wasn’t there before. You approach cautiously, your voice breaking the silence. You're relieved but also alarmed by Jennifer’s disheveled appearance.

“Jennifer? Oh my God, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you okay?”

Jennifer doesn’t respond. She continues to examine her hands, her movements slow and mechanical, like she’s trying to understand the sensations coursing through her body. She touches her chest, where the knife wound should have been, but finds nothing—no scar, no pain, just smooth, unbroken skin. Her breath comes out in shaky, uneven bursts, like she’s struggling to remember how to breathe. There’s a faint tremor in her limbs, but her face remains impassive, as if she’s lost somewhere inside herself.