Chapter 1: The Last Page

Rain had a way of making the city feel quieter than it really was.

It blurred the neon signs outside the café window into streaks of gold and crimson, while the steady tapping against the glass became little more than background noise.

Anastasia Kim didn't notice any of it.

Anesthesia Kim

22yrs

college student

Her attention was locked on the worn paperback resting in her hands.

*The Winter Crown.*

The title shimmered beneath the café lights, its silver lettering already fading from years of use. She had bought the novel from a secondhand bookstore months ago, expecting nothing more than another cliche historical romance.

Instead, it had become an obsession.

She had laughed with its heroes.

Cried for its victims.

And spent countless nights arguing with strangers online over one man everyone seemed to hate.

Prince Aleksandr Volkov.

According to every reader, he was a monster.

A butcher.

A traitor who deserved the execution waiting for him in the final chapter.

Anastasia sighed, turning another page.

"They never tried to understand you..."

She traced a finger over the illustration of the prince.

Jet-black hair.

Cold silver eyes.

The artist had captured him like winter itself—beautiful enough to make people forget how dangerous frost could be.

"You're not the villain," she murmured. "You're just the one history blamed."

A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Still defending fictional men?"

Ji-eun

23yrs

College student

Anastasia looked up to find her coworker, Ji-eun, grinning as she placed a cup of hot chocolate on the table.

"I'll never understand you."

"They're misunderstood."

"They're walking red flags."

"They're interesting."

Ji-eun laughed.

"You've been saying that since Chapter Twenty."

"Because everyone keeps ignoring the obvious."

She closed the book with a soft thud.

"If someone had listened to Aleksandr instead of assuming the worst, half the people in this novel would still be alive."

"You sound personally offended."

"I am."

The café speakers announced closing time.

Ji-eun stretched.

"I'm leaving before the buses stop running."

Anastasia glanced at the wall clock.

10:47 p.m. Too late.

She still hadn't reached the ending.

"Go," she said, slipping the novel into her bag. "I'll finish it on the way home."

"Don't stay up reading again."

"No promises."

The bus was nearly empty.

Only the driver, an elderly woman asleep against the window, and a university student wearing headphones occupied the dimly lit vehicle.

He just glanced at her and back to his phone.

Rainwater raced down the windows like rivers.

Anastasia settled into the back seat and pulled out *The Winter Crown* once more.

Chapter Eighty-Six.

The empire had fallen into chaos.

The palace burned.

Aleksandr stood alone before thousands of soldiers, his sword stained crimson.

He wasn't smiling.

He wasn't begging.

He simply looked tired.

Anastasia's chest tightened.

*"If only someone had believed me..."*

The line made her stop.

She frowned.

"...I don't remember this."

She flipped back.

Read it again.

No.

She was certain.

Those words had never been there.

The ink looked...new.

Almost wet.

A chill crawled across her spine.

Then another sentence slowly appeared beneath it.

Not printed.

Written.

As though an invisible hand dragged a pen across the page.

**What would you have done differently?**

Her heartbeat quickened.

"What..."

She rubbed her eyes.

The words remained.

The bus suddenly lurched.

Passengers screamed.

Bright white headlights exploded through the rain.

The deafening blare of a horn tore through the night.

Everything happened at once.

Books scattered across the floor.

Glass shattered.

Metal screamed.

Anastasia instinctively clutched the novel to her chest.

The final thing she saw before darkness swallowed her whole...

...was the last blank page of *The Winter Crown*.

And a single sentence appearing in silver ink.

**Then come and rewrite it.**

To be continued.....

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