Where was she going?Was she... dying?

  —

  A blinding light suddenly flooded her face.

  Her eyelids twitched. With a sharp gasp, Nora opened her eyes.

  The entire world was saturated in white light—too bright to feel real, more like something deliberately staged.

  Was this a hospital?

  She glanced around. The clinking of metal instruments echoed faintly, and a doctor in blue surgical scrubs leaned over her, his expression cool and unreadable.

  Nora's throat was parched. She forced herself to speak.“Where... where’s my mom?”

  The doctor didn’t answer.

  Instead, he slowly removed his surgical mask—revealing his entire face.

  Nora’s pupils contracted sharply.

  He wasn’t an ordinary doctor.

  His eyes—narrow, sharp, and gleaming—held an uncanny light, like a fox’s. His pupils were so dark they seemed bottomless, swallowing the light around them.

  Nora’s breath caught in her throat.

  She could see it clearly now.

  It was a fox’s face.

  She let out a scream and bolted upright from the operating table.

  The scrubs fell away from the figure, revealing a familiar presence.

  The fox stood in front of her, smiling, head tilted slightly, gaze deep and penetrating.

  “Do you want to know... where you are?” he asked.

  Nora couldn’t speak. Her throat was gripped by an invisible force. Her heart pounded like it was about to burst.

  Wasn’t she supposed to be dead?Wasn’t she supposed to wake up?Was this life—or... had she already crossed into another world?

  “You’re not dead,” the fox said, eyes narrowing into slits, a wry smile creeping onto his face. “You’re just... lost.”

  She remained on the operating table, hands gripping the sheet beneath her, struggling to stay calm. The harsh lights above flickered intermittently. The air reeked of antiseptic and tension.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  The fox paced slowly, his tail swaying behind him. His voice came light and casual:“So? Have you found what I asked for?”

  Nora hesitated, her mind racing for a response. She couldn’t admit she had no clue—that might provoke him. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her voice.

  “Not yet,” she said slowly. “But I have a lead.”

  The fox narrowed his eyes, watching her without a word.

  Nora pressed on. “Didn’t you say I had a hundred days? The time’s not up yet. Why are you rushing me? Maybe... you could give me what I need first?”

  The fox burst out laughing—high and sharp, echoing eerily through the empty operating room. After a moment, the laughter stopped. His face darkened.

  “You say time’s not up. That only shows how little you understand time,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “To me, a hundred years can pass like a single day... or a single day can stretch into a century. Just like you, I once believed in rules. But now—” he leaned forward—“let’s make this game a little more interesting.”

  He slammed his cane against the floor.

  In an instant, the entire room changed.

  The cold, sterile hospital vanished.

  They now stood in the middle of a bustling shopping mall. Bright lights shimmered overhead, people walked past with shopping bags, and gentle music played from the speakers above. Everything looked real.

  Too real.

  Nora stared, stunned. “What... is this?”

  The fox now wore a mall employee’s uniform, strolling leisurely to a nearby counter. His tail flicked behind him. That smile returned.

  “You want me to give you something first?” he said, tapping the counter with his cane. “That’s not how trades work. Rules are rules.”

  Then, as if reconsidering, he added, “But... I’ll give you a trial run.”

  He held out his clawed hand, and a weathered card appeared in his palm. Shimmering gold letters spelled out:

  Trial Voucher – Replace Your Mother – 24-Hour Experience

  He handed the card to her, winking.

  “Try it out. You’ll know what you truly want by the end.”

  Nora hesitated but accepted it. The texture was rough, like handmade parchment. She rubbed her thumb over the edge, still unsure.

  “You’re not tricking me, right?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

  “Would I lie?” he replied, smiling mysteriously. Then he raised a hand and pointed to a door at the back of the mall. “Your mother is waiting inside.”

  Nora turned to look at the door.

  Her heart was pounding.

  She took a breath and slowly pushed it open—

  And stepped into her family’s living room.

  Her mother was there, wiping the table with a gentle smile.

  Was this... a perfect version of her mom?

  Nora stood frozen.

  Her mother looked younger than usual, softer, her face full of warmth and calm—not a trace of exhaustion or sternness. No lectures, no harsh glances. Only kindness.

  Family photos lined the walls. Some Nora remembered from childhood. Others were new—pictures she didn’t recall ever taking. One showed her sitting on her mother’s lap, listening to a story. Another: the two of them running in a park, laughing.

  Nora turned to look for the fox—but the door behind her had vanished, replaced by a solid wall.

  “Nora, you’re home!”

  Her mother’s voice was gentle. She walked over, taking Nora’s hand.

  “You look exhausted,” she said softly. “Sit down. I made you some warm milk.”

  Nora stared, dazed. She accepted the cup, her fingers trembling slightly.

  “Mom…” she whispered.