Emma woke to the cedar-scented air of Noah's reality, the green walls and botanical prints anchoring her in their now-familiar strangeness. Lily's trembling confession—"You were there. You helped us, all of us."—and her sketch of Paris with the looping symbol in the sky burned in her mind, intertwining with Ethan's vision of Lily and Noah, Sophie's fragile hope, and the hospital memories that flickered like ghosts. The bracelet in her pocket, its looping symbol matching Sophie's, Lily's, and Noah's drawings, felt like a key to a past where she was their doctor, their savior. Noah's cryptic words—"Paris is where we wait"—pulled her forward, a promise of reunion she couldn't ignore. She slipped out of bed, the plush carpet soft under her feet, David's steady breathing beside her a constant in her fractured world. She needed to reach Noah, to confirm what Lily had revealed, to understand his role in their shared history.
Noah's room was lit by the soft glow of his telescope, the dawn sky a canvas of fading stars. He sat at his desk, his notebook open, sketching the looping symbol with a quiet intensity, his glasses slipping down his nose. The page was filled with stars, constellations, and three names—Ethan, Lily, Noah—circled in the center, the symbol glowing like a beacon. Emma's heart raced, the sight confirming Lily's words: they were all connected, and Noah knew it.
"Noah," she said, kneeling beside him, her voice soft but urgent, "I need to talk to you. About Ethan and Lily. About Paris."
He paused, his pencil hovering, his gray eyes meeting hers, wary but not hostile. "I told you," he said, his voice quiet, "they're in my stories." But his fingers tightened around the pencil, and Emma saw the fear in his eyes, a mirror of Lily's vulnerability, Ethan's desperation.
She pulled the bracelet from her pocket, its looping symbol glinting in the lamplight. "This isn't just a story," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Lily told me about Ethan, a boy in the hospital with her, who gave her a bracelet like this. She said you were there, too, Noah, talking about stars. You said we'd meet again in Paris. Were you all together? Was I there?"
Noah's breath caught, his eyes locking on the bracelet, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. "You… you found it," he whispered, his voice trembling, reaching out but stopping short. "I didn't think you'd remember."
Emma's heart pounded, Lily's words—"You were there, but you don't know"—echoing. "Remember what, Noah?" she asked, her voice shaking. "Were we in a hospital? Was I… your doctor?"
Noah's face paled, his hands dropping to his notebook, clutching it tightly. "You were," he said, his voice barely audible. "You helped us. Me, Ethan, Lily. We were sick, and you… you made us feel safe. You gave us these." He touched the sketch of the looping symbol, his fingers trembling. "You said it meant we'd always be connected."
Emma's throat tightened, a flood of images—hospital beds, three small faces, her own hands slipping bracelets onto their wrists—surging through her. "Why don't I remember?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Noah, what happened to us?"
He looked away, his eyes glistening. "You left," he said, his voice cracking. "After we got better, you were gone. Ethan said you'd find us again, in Paris. He said you promised."
Emma's heart shattered, the weight of his words crushing her. She reached for him, and this time, he let her pull him close, his small frame trembling against her. "I'm here now," she said, her voice fierce. "And I'm going to find them. In Paris."
David's voice interrupted, calling from the kitchen. "Emma, Noah, breakfast!" His tone was warm but strained, a familiar edge of worry.
Emma stood, helping Noah to his feet, her resolve hardening. "We're going to Paris," she said, her voice steady. "You, me, your dad. We'll find Ethan and Lily. I promise."
Noah nodded, his eyes glistening, but he clutched his notebook tighter, as if afraid to let go. In the kitchen, David was setting out plates, his face bright but weary, the coffee pot steaming.
"You're up early," David said, glancing at them. "Noah, you okay? You look… shaken."
Emma sat, her hands trembling as she reached for her mug. "Noah told me about Ethan and Lily," she said, her voice low, urgent. "They were in a hospital together, David. I was their doctor. This bracelet—" She held it up, the looping symbol glinting. "I gave it to them. Noah says we'll find them in Paris."
David's face fell, his hands pausing on the counter. "Emma, not this again," he said, his voice breaking. "There's no Ethan or Lily. Noah's just… imaginative. You're feeding into it, and it's scaring him."
Noah's voice, small but firm, cut through. "It's not a story, Dad," he said, his eyes fixed on David. "They were real. I remember them. And Mom… she was there."
David's jaw dropped, his eyes flicking between them, his hands trembling. "Noah, you can't… you don't mean that," he said, his voice hollow. "Emma, what are you doing to him?"
Emma stood, her frustration boiling over. "I'm not doing anything," she said, her voice fierce. "He remembers, David. Lily remembers. Ethan's fighting for a girl with the same bracelet. They're real, and Paris is where I'll prove it."
David stared at her, his eyes glistening, but before he could argue, Noah opened his notebook, revealing a new sketch—a Paris skyline, the Eiffel Tower glowing, three figures standing together, each wearing a bracelet with the looping symbol. Below it, in his careful script: "You promised we'd be together."
Emma's breath caught, her heart pounding. She looked at Noah, his eyes steady, his trust in her absolute. Paris was no longer a distant hope—it was a collision point, where her past as their doctor, their mother, would finally come to light. She had to go, to find Ethan and Lily, to save Sophie, and to keep her promise to Noah, no matter how much David doubted, no matter how much her reality threatened to unravel.