Sarah Nguyen

The taste of failure lingered on Felix's tongue like cheap whiskey as Sarah Nguyen's fingers traced lazy patterns across his collarbone.

"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?" she asked, her dark eyes searching his face. The glow from his bedside lamp caught the highlights in her hair -- the same hair he'd admired from his apartment window three years ago when they'd been neighbors.

"Sorry," Felix mumbled, shifting away slightly. "I'm just ... distracted."

Sarah laughed, a sound both musical and knowing. "You're always distracted, Felix. Even back when we lived across the hall from each other." She leaned closer, her perfume -- jasmine with undertones of something spicier -- enveloping him. "I used to wonder what went on in that head of yours."

Felix stared at the ceiling, fighting the urge to check his watch. Unlike his displacements, this encounter was entirely real -- Sarah had messaged him out of the blue, suggested drinks, and somehow they'd ended up at his apartment. But his mind remained fixated on Olivia and the interrupted revelation that had slipped through his fingers.

"I should probably go," he said halfheartedly, even as Sarah's hand slid under his shirt.

"Or," she countered, her lips brushing his ear, "we could pick up where we never started." Her fingers dipped lower, tracing the waistband of his jeans. "I always wondered what would happen if I'd knocked on your door that night instead of just smiling in the hallway."

Felix felt his body responding even as his mind retreated further. Sarah was gorgeous, willing, and right here in his actual reality -- not some two-minute fantasy. Yet all he could think about were the women who had vanished before he could understand why they'd appeared.

"Sarah," he said, gently catching her wrist. "I can't."

Her expression hardened slightly. "Can't or won't?"

Before Felix could answer, three sharp knocks rattled his apartment door.

"Both," Felix admitted, sliding off the bed. The knocking persisted, more insistent now.

Sarah sat up, smoothing her rumpled blouse. "Expecting someone?"

"No one," Felix said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. The knocking came again, followed by a familiar voice.

"Felix! I know you're in there. HR called me when you didn't show up for the third day." It was Raj.

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Friend of yours?"

"Coworker," Felix muttered, moving reluctantly toward the door. He opened it just enough to reveal Raj's concerned face.

"Dude, what the hell?" Raj pushed the door wider. "You've missed three deadlines, and --" He stopped abruptly, spotting Sarah perched on the edge of the bed. "Oh. Um. Sorry to interrupt."

"You're not," Sarah said coolly, standing and grabbing her purse. "I was just leaving." She brushed past Felix, her fingertips trailing across his arm -- a promise or a goodbye, he couldn't tell which. "Call me when you rejoin the real world, Felix."

The door closed behind her with a soft click that somehow felt more final than a slam.

Raj whistled low. "Sarah Nguyen? Seriously? How did you --"

"What do you want, Raj?" Felix cut him off, suddenly exhausted.

"What do I want? I want to know why my friend is throwing away his career!" Raj surveyed the apartment -- unwashed dishes piled in the sink, clothes scattered across furniture, Felix's laptop open to the displacement spreadsheet. "Jesus, Felix. What's happening to you?"

The genuine concern in Raj's voice pierced through Felix's detachment. He sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.

"I don't know anymore," he whispered. "I'm chasing ghosts."