Coincidence or Jeanie? — Chapter 3: The First Lead

Author’s Note

Hey everyone, Nin Nin here!

Just a quick update before you dive into Chapter 3. I originally wrote this story back in 10th grade, and while editing and retracing the draft I had in mind, I realized a few things needed to change. I know it’s a little untraditional to tweak earlier chapters after they’re already up, but I want the story to feel right — for me and for you.

So here are the two changes you should know:

1. Nick’s age isn’t 17 anymore — he’s now 22.
2. In Chapter 2, Reed does go to the ER, and Nick stays with him through the night.

That’s it! If you’ve already read the first two chapters, you don’t need to go back unless you want to.

Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story — it honestly means a lot. I hope you continue to enjoy Coincidence or Jeanie.

– Nin Nin

To Be Continued

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Chapter 3: The First Lead

The ER buzzed with fluorescent lights and nervous chatter. Phones ringing, nurses shuffling, the low hum of people whispering like the walls were listening. I sat there hunched in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs, staring at my phone.

The note was still there.
Jeanie, Jeanie, Jeanie. Leave me alone.

If I hadn’t written it, maybe I would have known. Maybe I could have stopped this.

I imagined Reed’s car spinning out, glass shattering, his arm slammed against the door. And me? Sitting at home, blissfully “normal,” because I’d told the only thing that ever warned me to shut up.

I sighed, thumb hovering over delete. My hand actually shook. Then I hit it. Gone.

For a second, I just stared at the empty screen. Waiting. Hoping.

And then Reed stirred.

His eyes fluttered open like nothing had happened, and he croaked, “You look like hell.”

A laugh cracked out of me, sharp and tired. “Thanks. You nearly die and I’m the one who looks like hell.”

He smirked weakly. “Guess that makes us even.”

Typical Reed. Survives a car accident, arm in a sling, and still manages to roast me before the IV drip finishes its first cycle.

I knew I should have hugged him. Guy almost died, and here I was still hiding behind sarcasm. Why is it so hard for me to feel anything straight? Why is it easier to crack a joke than admit I care? He’s my best friend, and I’m sitting here like a wall. Then he smiled as his eyes drifted shut, like he knew it too.

I leaned back in the chair, tension finally bleeding out of me. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

“Relax,” he said, eyes half-shut again. “Takes more than a Toyota to kill me.”

I wanted to tell him everything. About the coincidences. The feelings. The name that wouldn’t leave me alone. About how deleting a stupid note somehow brought him back.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I sat there, staring at my best friend breathing, and thought: She’s real. She’s out there. And I need to find her.

~

The morning after Reed’s accident, I tried to act like life was back to normal. Coffee, shower, work. The usual.

Except nothing felt normal.

I couldn’t tell Laura about any of this. Couldn’t tell Reed either. And Dr. McLean? Yeah, right. Even she’d probably smile, nod, and quietly start writing my psych eval.

So instead, I did what any sane, sleep-deprived person would do: I tried to trace Jeanie.

Backtrack the madness. Find where it started.

And then it hit me. The first time I really saw the name wasn’t in a dream, or on a playlist, or whispered in my head. It was online. A short story I’d stumbled across last year on some site called myexperience.com.

The author went by Harmony Hazel.

I didn’t know her. Still don’t. But I remembered liking her story, and in it there was a girl named Jeanie. At the time, I thought nothing of it. Just another character in just another corner of the internet. But now? Now it felt like a thread.

So I sent Harmony an email. Played it casual. Big fan. Loved your story. Thanks for writing.

She replied a day later. Polite. Short. The kind of message you send when you don’t want to keep talking. Glad you enjoyed it. Jeanie’s just a fictional character. Nothing more.

Nothing more.

That should’ve been the end of it. But I didn’t believe her.

Because Jeanie wasn’t “nothing.” She was everywhere in my life. And if Harmony Hazel was the first one to put her name in front of me, then maybe, just maybe, she knew more than she let on.

Or maybe I was going crazy. I don’t know.

Either way, I had to start digging deeper. Research more.

~

That night, I crashed. No tossing, no staring at the ceiling, no paranoia. Just out.

And then came the dream. Again.

Not the same girl as before.

This one had long dark hair, a crown tilted on her head like she was born with it, and wings, massive black wings that stretched wide behind her. She smiled at me, sharp and knowing, like she’d already planned the punchline to a joke I wasn’t in on. Creepy didn’t even cover it.

I jolted awake, pulse racing. Checked the clock. Morning.

Eight hours straight. A miracle.

~

Laura’s laugh carried down the hall, loud enough to rattle my door. I shuffled out, still half-asleep, and found her pacing with her phone pressed to her ear.

“Yes, honey, I can’t wait for the wedding either,” she said, smiling.

Right. The wedding. About a month away.

“Yes, we’ll figure out the house later,” she added.

Which meant she’d be moving out. I was happy for her, I really was, she’d found someone solid. But after a year or two of sharing this place, it’d feel weird without her around. Quiet. Too quiet.

My phone buzzed. Alex.

Now there was a surprise. My other sister rarely calls, too busy with books and competitions and her “future.”

“Wassup, bro,” she said when I picked up.
“Not much. Just woke up. Miraculous, I know.”
“I had to tell you and Laura something, but I guess she’s already on a call.”
“Yeah, fiancé privileges. What’s up?”
“I know I promised I’d visit, but…”
“Let me guess. Work?”
“Not work. A quiz. Inter-college level.”
I smirked. “Ah, the glamorous life of a nerd.”
“Excuse you. If we win, we’re headed to Scotland.”

That caught me. Scotland. The word landed heavier than it should have.

~

Laura’s laugh carried all the way down the hall, loud enough to rattle my door. I dragged myself out of bed, hair sticking up like a failed science experiment, and found her pacing with her phone pressed to her ear.

“Yes, honey, I can’t wait for the wedding either,” she said, smiling like she was already at the altar.

Right. The wedding. Coming up in a month.

“Yes, we’ll figure out the house later,” she added.

Which meant she’d be moving out. I was happy for her, I really was, she’d found someone good, someone solid. But after a year or two of sharing this flat, it’d feel strange without her around. Quiet. Too quiet.

My phone buzzed. Alex. Now that was unusual. My other sister rarely called, too busy with equations and competitions and whatever else future rocket scientists fill their time with.

“Wassup, bro,” she said when I picked up.
“Not much, sis. Just woke up. A modern miracle.”

She laughed softly. “I had to tell you and Laura something, but I guess she’s already on the phone.”
“Yeah, fiancé privileges. So what’s going on?”
“I know I promised I’d visit this week, but…”
I sighed. “Let me guess. Work?”
“Not work. A quiz. Big one. Inter-college level.”
I grinned. “So basically work, but with buzzers.”
“Excuse me, this is serious,” she said, mock-offended. “If we win, it’s straight to Scotland for the next round.”
“Scotland?” I repeated, the word clicking in my head harder than it should have.
“Yep. Scotland. Which means I can’t really sneak away right now.”
“Of course,” I said. “And here I thought you’d blow off international glory just to come hang out with your charming brother.”
She laughed again. “Next time, I promise.”
“Sure, sure. I’ll even run interference with Laura so she doesn’t scold you.”
“You’re the best. Anyway, I think they’re calling me, gotta go.”

Before I could say bye, the line went dead.

I stared at the screen for a second longer, the word still echoing in my head.

Scotland.