Emma woke to the cedar-scented air of Noah's reality, the green walls and botanical prints grounding her in their familiar strangeness. Lily's trembling hope—"You saved us once. Save us again."—and her sketch of the Paris skyline with the looping symbol echoed in her mind, intertwining with Ethan's fierce trust, Sophie's fragile fight, and Noah's confession that Emma was their doctor. The bracelet in her pocket, its looping symbol matching Sophie's, Lily's, and Noah's drawings, pulsed like a heartbeat, tying her children to a past she could almost grasp. Noah's words—"They said you'd save us. Paris is where we wait."—pulled her toward a city where their truths would collide. 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 solidify his trust and prepare him for Paris, where she would find Ethan and Lily.
Noah's room was bathed in the soft glow of his desk lamp, his telescope angled toward the fading stars of dawn. He sat cross-legged on the floor, his notebook open, sketching the looping symbol with a quiet intensity, surrounded by constellations and the names Ethan, Lily, Noah. His glasses slipped down his nose, his small frame tense, as if guarding a memory too heavy to carry alone. Emma knelt beside him, her heart aching at his isolation, so like Lily's fear, Ethan's desperation.
"Noah," she said, her voice soft but urgent, "we need to talk. About Paris. About Ethan and Lily."
He paused, his pencil hovering, his gray eyes meeting hers, wary but curious. "You're really going?" he asked, his voice quiet, a flicker of hope breaking through his guard. "To find them?"
Emma nodded, pulling the bracelet from her pocket, its looping symbol glinting in the lamplight. "Yes," she said, her voice steady. "Lily told me I was your doctor, in a hospital with you and Ethan. She said I gave you these bracelets, that I promised to keep you strong. You said the same thing, Noah. I need to know what you remember."
Noah's breath hitched, his eyes locking on the bracelet, a mix of fear and recognition crossing his face. "You were there," he whispered, his voice trembling. "You helped us. Me, Ethan, Lily. We were… so scared, but you made it better. You gave us these." He touched the sketch of the looping symbol, his fingers shaking. "You said we'd always find each other."
Emma's throat tightened, a flood of images—hospital wards, three small faces, her own hands slipping bracelets onto their wrists—surging through her. "Why don't I remember?" she asked, her voice breaking. "Noah, what happened after?"
He looked away, his eyes glistening. "You left," he said, his voice cracking. "We got better, but you were gone. Ethan said you'd come back, in Paris. He said you promised." He opened his notebook, revealing a new sketch—a hospital ward, three beds, three children, each with a bracelet, and above them, a Paris skyline with the looping symbol in the sky.
Emma's heart pounded, Lily's words—"You promised we'd be together."—echoing. She reached for Noah's hand, and he let her take it, his fingers cold but solid. "I'm going to keep that promise," she said, her voice fierce. "We're going to Paris—you, me, your dad. We'll find Ethan and Lily."
Noah's eyes widened, a flicker of hope breaking through his fear. "You mean it?" he whispered, his voice small but steady.
"I do," Emma said, pulling him close, his small frame trembling against her. David's voice interrupted, calling from the kitchen. "Emma, Noah, breakfast!" His tone was warm but edged with worry, a familiar refrain.
Emma helped Noah to his feet, her resolve unwavering. "We're going to tell your dad," she said. "He needs to understand." In the kitchen, David was setting out plates, his face bright but strained, the coffee pot steaming.
"You two look serious," David said, glancing at them. "What's going on?"
Emma sat, her hands trembling as she set the bracelet on the table. "Noah remembers," she said, her voice low, urgent. "He was in a hospital with Ethan and Lily, and I was their doctor. This bracelet—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 again," he said, his voice breaking. "Noah, you don't believe this, do you? It's just… stories."
Noah's voice, small but firm, cut through. "It's not a story, Dad," he said, his eyes fixed on David. "I remember them. Ethan, Lily, the hospital. Mom was there. She saved us." He pushed his notebook toward David, the Paris skyline stark, the looping symbol glowing.
David stared at the sketch, his jaw dropping, his hands trembling. "This… this can't be real," he said, his voice hollow. "Noah, you're just a kid. Emma, you're feeding into this."
Emma stood, her frustration boiling over. "I'm not feeding into anything," she said, her voice fierce. "Noah remembers. Lily remembers. Ethan saw them in a dream. They're real, David, and Paris is where I'll find them. We're going—all of us."
David's eyes glistened, his voice shaking. "Emma, you're scaring me," he said, but his gaze lingered on Noah's sketch, doubt creeping into his expression.
Noah stepped closer, his voice steady. "She's right, Dad," he said. "They're waiting. In Paris."
Emma's heart swelled, Noah's trust a lifeline. She looked at David, her voice steady. "We're going," she said. "For Noah, for Ethan, for Lily. For Sophie. You can come or not, but I'm keeping my promise."
David stared at the bracelet, the sketch, then at Noah, his resolve wavering. Emma's gaze fell to the notebook, the looping symbol a beacon. Paris was no longer a dream—it was a collision point, where her past as their doctor, their mother, would converge with their present. She had to go, to keep her promise to Noah, to find Ethan and Lily, to save Sophie, no matter how much David feared, no matter how close her reality came to breaking.