If there's one thing this world has taught me, it's that everything can change with the flick of a finger.
At this point, I'm the only one of the three of us who knows who we really are. King Harry doesn't know he's Harry Hulk—the man I loathed even when he was close. And Tyra doesn't know she's Christy, the best friend I could tell literally anything.
At first, I wanted the connection to be true, even when they showed me again and again that they belonged to two different worlds. But now, I've come to accept the truth. They are not the same people.
I can't look at Tyra's fuming face—a face so much like the girl I love—and believe she is the same person who sent me to my death.
Even as she walked in now, knowing exactly what she had done, she still stared at me with pure disdain.
"You are here," she said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness as her eyes pinned me to the spot.
The King kept his back turned, shielding the wound from her sight.
