It was the second “blip” that did it. The first time was terrifying. Poe was not sure what would happen, whether she would die. (Unthinkable.) That countdown was a secret form of torture, in her friend’s voice.

But after a moment of well, discomfort, it was fine. Everything was still in shape. She felt slightly odd, like she was two places at once, stretched but still whole.

The second time something ripped.