Emma woke to the cedar-scented air, the green walls and botanical prints of Noah's reality pulling her from the art room where Lily had fled, leaving behind the sketchbook with its haunting note: "E gave it to me in the hospital. He said you'd know." The looping symbol—on Lily's bracelet, Sophie's wrist, Ethan's keychain, and Noah's star charts—burned in her mind, a thread weaving her children together across fractured worlds. Lily's fear of her leukemia's return, Sophie's fragile agreement to try the trial, and Ethan's desperate love pulsed in her heart, but Noah's quiet intensity, his cryptic promise of Paris, felt like the key to unlocking it all. She slipped out of bed, the plush carpet soft under her feet, David's steady breathing beside her a constant in the chaos. She needed to reach Noah, to understand what he knew.
Noah's room was dimly lit, the morning light filtering through his telescope's lens, casting star-like patterns on the wall. He sat cross-legged on the floor, his notebook open, sketching the looping symbol with a precision that bordered on obsession. His glasses slipped down his nose, his dark hair falling into his eyes, but his focus was unbroken, as if the stars held answers he couldn't voice.
"Noah," Emma said, kneeling beside him, her voice soft but urgent, "we need to talk. About your drawings. About Paris."
He paused, his pencil hovering, his gray eyes flicking to her, wary but curious. "What about them?" he asked, his voice quiet, almost guarded.
Emma's heart raced, the bracelet in her pocket heavy with meaning. "This symbol," she said, pulling it out and holding it up, the looping design glinting in the light. "I've seen it with… others. People who feel like family. Ethan, Lily. You know them, don't you?"
Noah's fingers tightened around his pencil, his expression unreadable. "I don't know any Ethan or Lily," he said, his voice too steady, like a rehearsed line. He turned back to his notebook, sketching a constellation, but his hand trembled slightly, betraying him.
Emma leaned closer, her voice gentle but firm. "Noah, I found your sketch with their names—Ethan, Lily, Noah. You said I'd see them in Paris. What did you mean?"
He froze, his eyes darting to the notebook, then back to her. For a moment, she thought he'd shut her out, but he set his pencil down, his shoulders slumping. "It's just a story," he said, his voice barely audible. "Something I made up. About… people who are connected, even when they're far apart."
Emma's chest tightened, his words echoing Lily's note, Sophie's bracelet. "It's not just a story," she said, her voice trembling. "I've been with Ethan, helping his girlfriend, Sophie. She's sick, like Lily was. And Lily—she's scared her cancer will come back. They both have this symbol, Noah. Just like you. Tell me what you know."
Noah's eyes widened, a flicker of fear crossing his face, but he shook his head. "You're mixing things up," he said, his voice rising slightly. "There's no Ethan or Lily. It's just… me." But his fingers traced the looping symbol, and Emma saw the lie in his eyes.
Before she could press further, David's voice called from the hallway. "Emma? Noah? Breakfast's ready." His tone was warm, but the undercurrent of worry was unmistakable.
Emma stood, her resolve hardening. "We'll talk later," she said to Noah, touching his shoulder. He didn't pull away, but his eyes stayed on his notebook, as if guarding a secret. In the kitchen, David was setting out plates, his face bright but strained.
"Noah seems quieter than usual," David said, glancing at her. "Did something happen?"
Emma sat, her hands trembling as she reached for her coffee. "He's drawing that symbol again," she said, her voice low. "The same one I've seen with Ethan and Lily. David, I know you think I'm imagining them, but they're real. I was just with Lily, scared and hiding. Ethan's fighting for Sophie. And Noah—he knows something about Paris."
David's face fell, his hands pausing on the counter. "Emma, please," he said, his voice breaking. "There's no Ethan or Lily. You're scaring Noah with this. He's already so… fragile. And Paris—it's just a trip, a chance to get away. Don't make it something it's not."
Emma's frustration flared, but she kept her voice steady. "It's not just a trip," she said, pulling the bracelet from her pocket. "This was Lily's. It's the same as Sophie's, the same as Noah's drawings. They're connected, David, and I need to understand how."
David stared at the bracelet, his expression tightening. "It's just a coincidence," he said, but his voice lacked conviction. "Emma, you need to rest. You're not yourself."
She shook her head, standing. "I'm more myself than ever," she said, her voice fierce. "I'm going to talk to Noah again." She turned, but paused at the sight of Noah in the doorway, his notebook clutched to his chest, his eyes locked on the bracelet.
"You found it," he whispered, his voice barely audible, his face pale.
Emma's heart stopped. "Found what, Noah?" she asked, stepping closer. "What does this mean?"
He hesitated, his eyes darting to David, then back to her. "It's… from my story," he said, his voice trembling. "The one where we're all together. In Paris." He opened his notebook, revealing a new sketch—a cityscape with a glowing Eiffel Tower, the looping symbol etched into the sky, surrounded by three figures labeled Ethan, Lily, Noah.
Emma's breath caught, her mind spinning. "Noah," she said, her voice shaking, "who are they to you?"
He looked at her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "They're my friends," he said, his voice breaking. "The ones I lost. But you'll find them, won't you? In Paris."
David stepped forward, his voice sharp. "Noah, enough. You're upsetting her."
But Emma didn't hear him. The sketch, the bracelet, the names—they were real, and Noah knew it. Paris was no longer just a destination—it was a promise, a collision of her realities, and she had to follow it, no matter how much David doubted her.