Emma woke to the lavender-scented air of Lily's reality, the crack in the plaster ceiling anchoring her in its familiar imperfection. Ethan's quiet resolve—"You said we'd be a family."—and his sketch of the Paris skyline with the looping symbol echoed in her mind, intertwining with Noah's certainty that they'd see the stars together, Sophie's fragile fight, and Lily's hope to be a family again. The bracelet in her pocket, its looping symbol matching Sophie's, Noah's drawings, and Ethan's keychain, pulsed like a heartbeat, tying her children to a past she was beginning to reclaim. With Ethan's court date behind them, Sophie's trial underway, and David's agreement to go to Paris tomorrow, the journey was imminent. She slipped out of bed, the tile cold under her feet, David's steady breathing beside her a constant in her fractured world. She needed to reach Lily, to prepare her for Paris and solidify their bond before they left.
The house was quiet, the morning light dim through the blue velvet curtains. Lily's bedroom was empty, her backpack gone, but her sketchbook lay open on the desk, a new drawing stark against the page—a Paris skyline, the Eiffel Tower glowing, three figures with bracelets bearing the looping symbol, labeled Ethan, Lily, Noah. Below it, in Lily's careful script: "You said we'd never be alone." Emma's breath caught, a memory flashing—her own voice in a hospital ward, promising three children a future together. She dressed quickly, pulling on the red wool coat, the bracelet and Lily's note—"E said to keep fighting. Like you did."—heavy in her pocket. Downstairs, David was in the kitchen, packing a small bag, his face weary but resolute, his commitment to Paris a fragile but growing faith.
"Lily's gone again," Emma said, her voice tight, grabbing her keys. "I'm going to find her."
David looked up, his eyes softening. "Be gentle, Emma," he said, setting the bag down. "She's scared, but I'm starting to believe you. This… Paris thing, these kids—it's real to her. Bring her home, and we'll go together."
Emma nodded, her heart swelling at David's trust. "I will," she said, her voice steady. "She remembers Ethan and Noah, David. She's part of this, and we're going to Paris to find them." She headed for the door, pausing at the photo on the counter—Lily, young, in a hospital gown, her wrist bare. The missing bracelet still gnawed at her, a puzzle piece yet to fit.
She drove to the school, her heart pounding, hoping Lily had returned to the art room, her sanctuary. The campus was quiet, the early hour keeping it empty. The art room door was ajar, and inside, Emma found Lily sitting at a table, her sketchbook open, her hands steady as she drew. The looping symbol dominated the page, surrounded by a hospital ward, three beds, three children—Ethan's sharp jaw, Noah's glasses, a girl with a beanie. Sophie. Emma's heart raced, the image a mirror of Ethan's and Noah's sketches.
"Lily," Emma said, kneeling beside her, her voice soft, "we're leaving for Paris tomorrow. To find Ethan and Noah. Are you ready?"
Lily's eyes flicked up, bright with hope but shadowed by fear. "Tomorrow?" she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. "You really think we'll find them? That we'll be… together?"
Emma reached for her hand, her voice gentle but firm. "I do," she said, pulling the bracelet from her pocket, its looping symbol glinting. "You said I was your doctor, gave you this bracelet in the hospital with Ethan and Noah. They remember, too. We're going to Paris to keep that promise—to be a family again."
Lily's breath hitched, her fingers tracing the looping symbol. "I was so scared back then," she said, her voice breaking. "You made us feel safe. Ethan was strong, Noah talked about stars, and I… I drew to keep going. You said this symbol would bring us back together." She pushed the sketchbook toward Emma, revealing a new drawing—a Paris skyline, the looping symbol glowing in the sky, and beside it, a note: "You promised we'd find each other."
Emma's throat tightened, a flood of images—hospital beds, three small faces, her own hands slipping bracelets onto their wrists—surging through her. She pulled Lily into her arms, the girl's steady form solid against her. "We will," she said, her voice fierce. "You, me, your dad—we're going to Paris to find them."
Lily nodded, her eyes glistening, her hope stronger than her fear. The art room door creaked open, and David stood there, his face determined, a packed bag in hand. "I found you," he said, his voice low but steady. "Lily, Emma—we're ready. Paris, tomorrow."
Emma's heart swelled, David's trust a lifeline. She stood, helping Lily to her feet, the sketchbook in her hand. "We'll go together," she said, her voice steady. "For Ethan, for Noah, for Sophie. For us."
Lily clutched the sketchbook, her voice small but firm. "For all of us," she said, her eyes meeting David's, then Emma's, a spark of resolve breaking through.
David stepped closer, his hand resting on Lily's shoulder, his voice steady. "For all of us," he echoed, his doubt giving way to faith.
Emma's gaze fell to the sketchbook, the Paris skyline glowing, 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 Lily, to find Ethan and Noah, to ensure Sophie's fight wasn't in vain, no matter how close her reality came to breaking.