"ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ," ʜᴇ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ꜱᴏꜰᴛʟʏ. "ᴏʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ɴᴏᴡ." ʜɪꜱ ʜᴏɴᴇʏ-ʙʀᴏᴡɴ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ʜᴇʟᴅ ʜᴇʀꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴʟɪɢʜᴛ. "ɪ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴜɴ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴍᴇ." ┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　° The woods in Hillsbrook are a scar-thin enough for something ancient to bleed through. Calista Birdsong has known it all her life, through unexplainable dreams and manic paintings. On each canvas a boy, all from different eras. From different lifetimes. But always the same eyes. Always him. Angel Castẽnda has spent the last year pretending he isn't haunted. Not by the woods. Not by the past. Not by the girl who shattered his heart to save him from something she never explained. But then something crosses through that scar. Something hunting them. Forced to escape into the Overgrown, a realm of gods, elemental beings, and kingdoms forged during creation, Calista and Angel are forced to reckon with debt they have no knowledge of. They belong to the Overgrown-even if they don't understand why. Now the kingdoms grow restless as the mortals fight to restore equilibrium and return home. But is it worth it if the expense of mortality? Of one another? [This story is complete; I'll be posting 3 chapters a week for formatting and editing.]