Emma woke to the familiar brick walls of Ethan's reality, the faint scent of coffee and motor oil grounding her in the house that felt most like home. Noah's resolute trust—"Mom's keeping her promise."—and his sketch of the hospital ward with the looping symbol echoed in her mind, intertwining with Lily's confession that Emma was their doctor, Sophie's fragile fight, and Ethan's vision of Lily and Noah. The keychain in her pocket, its looping symbol matching Sophie's bracelet, Lily's, and Noah's drawings, pulsed like a heartbeat, tying her children to a past she was beginning to reclaim. Ethan's court date was today, Sophie's trial had begun, and Paris—where Noah said they'd all meet—loomed as a destination she could no longer delay. She slipped out of bed, the hardwood floor cool under her feet, David's steady breathing beside her a constant in her fractured world. She needed to reach Ethan, to get him through court and solidify their plan for Paris.
The kitchen was quiet, the morning light slanting through the windows, casting long shadows across the table. Ethan was already up, dressed in a borrowed button-up shirt for court, his sketchbook closed beside him, the keychain with the looping symbol glinting in the light. His face was pale, his jaw tight, the weight of the day etched into his features. Emma sat across from him, her heart aching at his fear, so like Lily's vulnerability, Noah's quiet trust.
"Ethan," she said, her voice soft but urgent, "today's a big day. The lawyer says if you're honest, they'll likely reduce the charges. We'll get through this, and then we're going to Paris—to find Lily and Noah."
Ethan's eyes flicked to her, raw and uncertain. "You really believe that, don't you?" he said, his voice low. "That they're out there, waiting. I saw them in that dream—Lily, Noah—but it's… it's hard to trust it. And Sophie—" He swallowed, his hands clenching. "She started the trial yesterday. What if it doesn't work?"
Emma reached for his hand, her fingers brushing the keychain. "Sophie's fighting because of you," she said, her voice fierce. "Dr. Larson said she's responding well so far. And Lily and Noah—they're real, Ethan. You knew them, in a hospital, when you were kids. I was your doctor, gave you this symbol to keep you strong. You're drawing it now, like they are. Paris is where we'll find them."
Ethan's breath hitched, his eyes locking on the keychain. "I don't remember a hospital," he said, his voice trembling, "but I feel… something. Like they're part of me." He opened his sketchbook, revealing a new drawing—a Paris skyline, the Eiffel Tower glowing, three figures with bracelets bearing the looping symbol, labeled Ethan, Lily, Noah. "If you say Paris, I'm in," he said, his voice steadier now.
Emma's heart swelled, his trust a lifeline. She pulled the bracelet from her pocket, its looping symbol glinting. "This was Lily's," she said. "Noah said I gave it to you all. We're going to Paris, Ethan, after court. You, me, your dad."
The front door opened, and David entered, his face weary, a briefcase of legal papers in hand. "The lawyer's waiting at the courthouse," he said, setting the briefcase down. "Ethan, you ready?" His eyes fell on the sketchbook, narrowing. "What's this about Paris?"
Emma stood, her resolve unwavering. "We're going," she said, her voice sharp. "Ethan saw Lily and Noah in a dream. They were in a hospital together, and I was their doctor. This bracelet, this symbol—it's all connected. Lily and Noah are waiting in Paris, David."
David's jaw dropped, his eyes flicking to Ethan, who nodded, his face resolute. "It's true, Dad," Ethan said, his voice firm. "I don't know how, but I saw them. Mom's right—we need to go."
David sank into a chair, his hands trembling. "This… this can't be real," he said, his voice hollow, but his gaze lingered on the sketchbook, doubt creeping into his expression. "Emma, you're pulling him into this."
Ethan stood, his voice cutting through. "She's not pulling me into anything," he said, his sketchbook clutched to his chest. "I felt them, Dad—Lily, Noah. They're real. And Paris is where we'll find them."
Emma's heart pounded, Ethan's trust a beacon in the storm. She turned to David, her voice steady. "We leave after court," she said. "For Ethan, for Sophie, for Lily and Noah. You can come or not, but I'm keeping my promise to them."
David stared at the sketch, the bracelet, then at Ethan, his resolve wavering. "I don't understand," he said, his voice breaking, "but I'm not losing you. Either of you. If you're going to Paris, I'm coming."
Emma exhaled, relief flooding her, but the weight of the day—court, Sophie's trial, the looming journey—pressed down. She looked at Ethan, his eyes steady, his sketchbook a map to their future. "Let's get through court," she said, her voice fierce. "Then we go to Paris."
Ethan nodded, his jaw set, and opened his sketchbook one last time, revealing a final detail—a hospital bracelet with the looping symbol, and beside it, in his jagged script: "You saved us once. You'll save us again." Emma's breath caught, her mind racing. 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 Ethan, to save Sophie, to find Lily and Noah, no matter how close her reality came to breaking.