Lucien sat in the sterile, white room of Dr. Keene's office, tapping his foot against the cold tile floor.
He wasn't sure why he was here.
He wasn't even supposed to have a check-up. But Aveline's words had burrowed into his bones like seeds planted in winter. Impossible, illogical—but they were growing anyway.
You saw Dr. K. You hid the results.
He hadn't seen Dr. Keene since a routine check-up months ago.
But today… something gnawed at the edge of his mind. A dull headache. A strange blur in his peripheral vision that lingered longer than it should've. His hands had trembled when he tried to button his coat.
Just tired. Probably nothing.
But what if it wasn't?
What if she was right?
The door opened, and Dr. Keene stepped in. Middle-aged, sharp eyes behind silver frames. Calm. Controlled.
"Lucien. Unexpected. What brings you in?"
Lucien sat forward. "Do you still have the results from my last neuro screening?"
Dr. Keene blinked. "You mean the MRI we ran almost six months ago?"
Lucien nodded. "Yes. I… think I need to go over them again."
Dr. Keene studied him. "Has something happened?"
"I'm not sure," Lucien replied. "But if there's something there—anything—you'll tell me, right?"
Dr. Keene slowly sat at his desk and opened the file.
There was a pause.
Then another.
Lucien watched as the man's brows drew together ever so slightly. He wasn't reacting like someone who'd found nothing.
His pulse picked up.
Finally, Dr. Keene looked up. "There were… anomalies. We didn't flag them at the time because they were subtle. But now that I'm looking again, it might be worth running another scan."
Lucien's mouth went dry. "Anomalies like what?"
"Small masses. Could be benign. Could be nothing," he said carefully. "But you should come in for another MRI tomorrow."
Lucien nodded slowly, dread crawling up his spine like ice.
Aveline had been right.
And now the timeline had changed.
Elsewhere – That Same Day
Aveline walked the bookstore aisles like a ghost among stories.
She wasn't sure why she had come. Maybe for comfort. Maybe to remember what the world looked like before it fell apart. But her feet moved without thought, leading her to the back corner of the store where the poetry books sat.
It was here, in another version of her life, that she had once found a note from Lucien tucked into a dog-eared Rainer Maria Rilke book.
"In another life, I'd meet you sooner. In this one, I'm just glad I found you at all."
She remembered crying when she read it. He'd slipped it there on their second anniversary.
She hadn't found it until after he died.
She reached out and picked up the same copy of Letters to a Young Poet.
It was still there.
The same note.
Same handwriting.
Same gentle fold.
Her knees nearly gave out.
But she wasn't alone in the aisle.
A voice behind her said, "You always did like the sad ones."
She froze.
Turned.
Jules Dempsey.
He wasn't supposed to be here.
Not this early. Not in this life.
Tall, dark-haired, sharply dressed in his usual mix of charm and trouble, Jules had been one of Lucien's closest friends—and, in the later years, a source of painful tension between them. In the first timeline, Jules and Aveline had grown closer after Lucien's death, but it had always been tangled in grief. It ended badly. He'd confessed he had loved her. She hadn't been able to love him back.
"Jules?" she said, her voice faint.
He raised an eyebrow. "You look like you saw a ghost. What's wrong?"
Too much, she thought. Too soon.
"I… didn't expect to see you," she said carefully. "I thought you weren't in town until next spring."
"Yeah, plans changed. You okay? You look like you've seen the future."
He laughed at his own joke. She didn't.
And suddenly, Aveline realized: if Jules was here now, earlier than he should've been, it meant more than just Lucien's timeline was shifting.
Fate wasn't just reacting.
It was rearranging.
Later That Night
Lucien sat on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, hesitating.
Then, he hit call.
Aveline answered on the first ring. "Lucien?"
"I went to see Dr. Keene."
She was silent for a beat. "And?"
"There's something. He didn't say what yet. But I'm going in tomorrow."
"I'm so sorry," she whispered.
"You were right."
He swallowed. "I don't know how. I don't know what any of this means. But I want to believe you. I want to believe that you came back for a reason."
"I did."
"Then help me," he said. "Don't keep secrets from me. Not this time."
"I won't."
A pause.
Then he added, softly, "Can we start over?"
Her heart fluttered. "We never finished the first start."
He smiled faintly. "Maybe this time, we'll get it right."
Neither of them noticed the watch on her nightstand ticking slightly… slower.
In the Realm Between Time
The Observer stood before a mirror of water. Within its still surface, Lucien and Aveline's conversation rippled.
"She's already changed the diagnosis date," the woman with the hourglass eyes said. "The thread has split."
The Observer nodded once.
"She delays death," he said. "But it does not stop walking toward him."
Another voice entered the chamber.
Younger. Male. Curious.
It was Jules.
Or… a version of him.
One who had dreamed of timelines where Aveline had been his.
"What if she saves him?" Jules asked.
The Observer turned slowly.
"Then something else must fall."