Emma woke to the familiar crack in the plaster ceiling, the lavender-scented air of Lily's reality pulling her from Ethan's desperate vision—Lily and Noah, their names whispered in a dream, calling him to Paris. The looping symbol, etched on Lily's bracelet, Sophie's wrist, Noah's sketches, and Ethan's keychain, pulsed in her mind, a thread tying her children across fractured worlds. Lily's flight from the art room, her sketchbook with the note—"E gave it to me in the hospital. He said you'd know."—and her fear of leukemia's return weighed heavy, echoing Sophie's fragile hope and Noah's guarded secrets. Emma slipped out of bed, the tile cold under her feet, David's steady breathing beside her a constant in the chaos. She needed to find Lily, to uncover the truth behind "E" and the bracelet, before Paris called her forward.
The house was quiet, the morning light dim through the blue velvet curtains. Lily's bedroom door was closed, her backpack gone, the medical books still on her desk, their pages marked with Emma's own handwriting. The bracelet, left behind in the art room, was heavy in Emma's pocket, its looping symbol a silent accusation. She dressed quickly, pulling on the red wool coat, and headed downstairs, where David was pouring coffee, his face etched with exhaustion.
"She's gone again," Emma said, her voice tight, grabbing her keys. "I'm going to find her."
David set his mug down, his eyes narrowing. "Emma, you can't keep chasing her," he said, his voice strained. "Lily's struggling, and you're making it worse with this… obsession. Ethan, Noah, now some bracelet? You need to focus on her, not these fantasies."
Emma's frustration flared, her hand clutching the bracelet in her pocket. "They're not fantasies," she said, her voice trembling. "Lily's note mentioned 'E'—Ethan. The same symbol's on Sophie's bracelet, Noah's drawings. They're connected, David, and Lily knows something. I'm not stopping until I understand."
David's face softened, but his voice was firm. "Emma, you're not well," he said, stepping closer. "Lily's scared, and you're pushing her away. Let her come to you."
But Emma couldn't wait. She drove to the school, her heart pounding, hoping Lily had returned to the art room. The campus was quiet, the early hour keeping most students away. The art room door was unlocked, and inside, Emma found Lily sitting at the same table, her sketchbook open, her hands trembling as she drew. The looping symbol was everywhere, surrounding sketches of a hospital bed, a boy with dark hair, a girl with a beanie. Emma's breath caught—Ethan, Sophie?
"Lily," Emma said, her voice soft, approaching slowly, "you don't have to run from me."
Lily's head snapped up, her eyes red, her face pale. "Why can't you just leave me alone?" she whispered, her voice breaking, but she didn't close the sketchbook, her fingers hovering over the drawings.
Emma sat across from her, her heart aching at the fear in Lily's eyes. "I'm not leaving," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "I found your bracelet, Lily. The one with the symbol. You said 'E' gave it to you in the hospital. Who is he?"
Lily's hands froze, her eyes glistening with tears. "You wouldn't understand," she said, her voice barely audible. "He was… my friend. When I was sick. He was there, in the hospital, when you weren't." Her words cut deep, and she looked away, her fingers tracing the looping symbol.
Emma's chest tightened, a memory flashing—her own voice in a hospital room, a boy's hand in hers, promising strength. Was it Ethan? "Lily," she said, her voice trembling, "was his name Ethan?"
Lily's eyes widened, her breath hitching. "How do you know that?" she whispered, her voice shaking. "I never told you his name."
Emma's heart raced, the pieces falling together but not yet clear. "I've… seen him," she said, her voice careful. "He's in trouble, Lily. His girlfriend, Sophie, is sick, like you were. And there's another boy, Noah, who draws this symbol, talks about Paris. They're all connected, and so are you."
Lily's face crumpled, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Ethan said you'd find us," she said, her voice breaking. "He said you'd know what to do. But you don't, do you? You don't even remember him."
Emma's throat tightened, the weight of Lily's words crushing her. She reached for the sketchbook, her fingers brushing the drawing of the boy with dark hair. "I want to remember," she said, her voice fierce. "Tell me about him, Lily. Help me understand."
Lily hesitated, then pushed the sketchbook toward her, revealing a new drawing—a bracelet with the looping symbol, wrapped around a wrist in a hospital bed. "He was in the ward with me," she said, her voice trembling. "We were kids, maybe eight. He gave me this bracelet, said it was from his mom—a doctor who saved him. He said she'd save me, too." She looked at Emma, her eyes searching. "Was that you?"
Emma's breath caught, a flood of images—hospital charts, a boy's smile, a bracelet—surging through her. "I… I don't know," she said, her voice breaking. "But I'm here now, Lily. And I'm not letting you go."
Lily nodded, her shoulders trembling, but before she could speak, the art room door creaked open. David stood there, his face pale, his eyes wide with worry. "Emma, you can't keep doing this," he said, his voice low. "Lily, come home. We'll figure this out together."
Lily stood, clutching her sketchbook, but her eyes stayed on Emma, a flicker of trust breaking through her fear. Emma rose, the bracelet heavy in her pocket, her mind racing. Ethan's vision, Lily's memory, Noah's promise—they were converging, and Paris was the key. As they left the art room, Lily's hand brushed hers, a small gesture of connection. Emma held onto it, knowing the truth was waiting, just beyond her reach, in a city where her children's lives would collide.