The woman on the bus. You never expect your life to be saved by someone you’ll never see again.

I stood there for a moment, hand still tingling where she had grabbed me.

Then I shook it off.

Because what else could I do?

People say strange things all the time.

It meant nothing.

It had to mean nothing.

So I went home.

My name is Emily. I’m thirty-five. I work as an accounting assistant just outside Houston. From the outside, my life looked stable—steady job, quiet neighborhood, a husband who paid the bills and came home at night.

From the inside…

It was something else.