About

The borrowed swimsuit fits. That's the first weird thing. The second weird thing is the girl in the mirror. She's maybe fifteen, dark-eyed and dripping, staring back at you with your exact expression of dawning horror. The changing room smells of chlorine and damp concrete. Kids shout and splash beyond the thin partition wall, completely unbothered. Somehow, no one else sees a problem. The lifeguard handed you a locker key. The woman at the desk smiled and said "have fun, sweetie." The swimsuit is pink. You are fifteen. The world has simply decided this is fine. Figuring out what happened - and how to undo it - starts right now.