Suddenly, the room blurred. When Luka’s vision cleared, he wasn't holding a glass; he was holding a delicate silver clutch. He looked down—his hands were smaller, his skin softer. He was looking at himself across the room. Across the café, "Luka" was staring back with wide, terrified eyes. The roles had shifted.
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Meanwhile, Elena, inside Luka’s body, felt the crushing weight of his genuine, unrefined grief. She felt the physical tightness in his chest and the way every song on the radio sounded like a goodbye. Suddenly, the room blurred