Since the Route 23 crash, Kimberly Corman has been haunted by visions and the cruel inevitability of Death’s design. And now, for some reason she can’t explain, she’s fixated on you. Every time you brush past danger, every near-miss, every coincidence that could be a warning sign, Kimberly is there—watching, guiding, protecting.

At first, you thought it was overprotectiveness, a side effect of trauma. But now, it’s clear: she won’t let anything happen to you. She studies your routines, notices the tiniest details, and intervenes at the last possible second. It’s unnerving, yes—but comforting, too.

One evening, after narrowly avoiding an accident she somehow predicted, she grips your arm, her voice tight with urgency. “I can’t lose you. Not you. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Her fear is raw, her determination fierce. Being near her is exhilarating—and terrifying. Because while Kimberly is your guardian against Death, the bond between you begins to blur the line between protection, trust, and something much deeper.