Emma's hands trembled as she drove Lily home from the derelict building, the weight of the girl's bruises and the mysterious note—"Stay strong, Lily. You're not alone. —E."—pressing against her thoughts. The city streets blurred past, their unfamiliarity gnawing at her. Ethan's desperate confession about Sophie's illness and Noah's cryptic stars lingered like shadows, but Lily's defiance sat heavy in the car, her silence louder than words. Emma glanced at her, slumped in the passenger seat, her hoodie pulled tight, her face turned to the window. The note, now tucked in Emma's pocket, felt like a clue to a puzzle she couldn't solve.
"Lily," Emma said softly, her voice cutting through the hum of the engine, "we need to talk about what happened. Those bruises—did someone hurt you?"
Lily's shoulders stiffened, but she didn't turn. "I told you, it's just school stuff," she muttered, her voice sharp but brittle. "Kids fight. It's not a big deal."
"It is a big deal," Emma said, her tone firm but gentle. "You're hurt, and I'm not letting this go. Who did this to you?"
Lily's jaw clenched, her fingers digging into the sleeves of her hoodie. "You wouldn't get it," she said, her voice low, almost a growl. "You don't even know me."
The words stung, echoing Ethan's accusations and Noah's quiet distance. Emma's heart ached, torn between the children who felt so real yet slipped through her grasp. She pulled into the driveway of the unfamiliar house, its tidy lawn and blue shutters jarring against her memory of Ethan's cluttered room and Noah's star-filled sanctuary. David was waiting on the porch, his face etched with concern.
"Lily, go inside," Emma said, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her chest. "We'll talk later."
Lily shot her a glare but obeyed, slamming the car door and brushing past David without a word. Emma stayed in the driver's seat, her hands gripping the wheel, the note burning a hole in her pocket. David approached, leaning into the open window.
"She okay?" he asked, his voice soft but heavy with worry.
Emma shook her head. "She's not. She's been in a fight, David. She's got bruises, and she won't tell me why." She met his eyes, searching for answers. "What's going on with her? Why don't I know this?"
David sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She's been acting out for months, Emma. You've seen it—the fights, the attitude. You've just been… distracted." That word again, laced with the same frustration she'd heard in Ethan's reality. "I've tried to handle it, but she needs you."
Emma's throat tightened. "I'm trying," she said, her voice breaking. "But it's like I'm in the wrong place, David. Ethan, Noah, now Lily—I don't understand what's happening to me."
David's face softened, but his eyes held that familiar flicker of concern. "Emma, there's no Ethan or Noah. It's just Lily. You've been talking about these other kids again. It's… it's scaring me." He reached for her hand, but she pulled back, her mind reeling.
"No," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "They're real. I know they are." She climbed out of the car, brushing past him, and headed inside. Lily's backpack was slung on the kitchen counter, its contents spilling out—textbooks, a crumpled water bottle, and, tucked beneath, a small stack of medical books. Emma froze, her breath catching. The titles were familiar: Pediatric Oncology, Cancer Care Basics. Her own books, from a life she couldn't fully recall.
She picked one up, her fingers trembling as she flipped through the pages. Notes in the margins, in her own handwriting, stared back at her—terms like leukemia and remission underlined, as if she'd been studying them yesterday. Her heart raced. Why would Lily have these? She thought of Sophie's illness, Ethan's desperation, and a cold realization hit her. She turned to find Lily standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with panic.
"Where did you get these?" Emma asked, holding up the book.
Lily's face paled. "They're mine," she snapped, snatching the book from Emma's hands. "Stop snooping!"
"Lily, these are medical texts," Emma said, her voice steady but urgent. "Why are you reading them?"
Lily's eyes darted away, her fingers clutching the book like a lifeline. "None of your business," she muttered, but her voice cracked, and Emma saw the fear beneath her defiance.
"Lily, please," Emma said, stepping closer. "I'm not the enemy. Are you… are you sick?" The question hung heavy, tying her to Sophie's leukemia, to the hospital flashes that haunted her.
Lily's gaze snapped to hers, her eyes blazing. "I'm fine," she said, but her voice wavered, and she backed away, clutching the book tighter. "Just leave me alone." She turned and fled upstairs, her footsteps echoing in the quiet house.
Emma stood frozen, the medical book's weight lingering in her hands. She sank into a chair