My chest heaved as hope—desperate, terrifying hope—crashed into me like a tidal wave. My fingers trembled uncontrollably as I scrolled to the top of my contacts list with shaking thumbs.
The very first name.
Emily.
I hit the call button before I could talk myself out of it, before fear could paralyze me, before reality could reassert itself and tell me this was all just a cruel dream.
The dial tone rang in my ear.
Once.
Twice.
Each ring felt like an eternity. My heart threatened to burst from my chest.
Pick up… Please, please, please pick up…
And then—
Click.
"Hello? Ethan?"
Her voice.
Her sweet, achingly familiar voice rang out through the phone speaker, clear as a bell on a winter morning.
I almost burst into tears right there in my tiny bathroom. My shoulders shook with the effort of holding back the sob that wanted to tear itself free from my throat. My vision blurred as hot tears gathered in my eyes.
I couldn't speak. The words were trapped somewhere between my heart and my mouth, refusing to come out. All I could do was stand there, gripping the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white, listening to the sound of my sister's voice—alive, healthy, real.
"Ethan? Are you there?"
Emily's tone shifted, taking on a note of concern.
"What's wrong? Is something the matter?"
I could hear airport announcements in the background—garbled voices calling out gate numbers and flight information. The ambient noise of crowds and rolling luggage.
"I just landed in Chicago… The flight was smooth, don't worry. Do you want me to come home directly? I can catch a cab if you're still asleep—"
"No—don't!"
The words exploded from me in a panic, my voice cracking with emotion and desperation.
"Emily, listen to me. This is important. Stay inside the airport lobby. Don't go outside. Don't leave the building. Don't even step near the exit doors. Do you understand?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
I could practically hear the confusion in the silence, could imagine the slight furrow of her brow as she tried to make sense of my frantic tone.
"I'll come pick you up," I continued, speaking quickly, urgently, as if the words themselves could create a protective barrier around her. "I'm leaving right now. Just… just promise me you'll wait there, okay? Promise me you won't leave the airport. Promise me, Emily."
The desperation in my voice must have gotten through to her, because after a long moment, she responded softly.
"Alright… I'll wait for you, Ethan. I promise."
Her voice was gentle, understanding, even if she didn't understand the reason for my panic.
When the call ended with a soft beep, I collapsed against the bathroom wall, my legs finally giving out beneath me. I slid down until I was sitting on the cold tile floor, breathing hard. My lungs burned as if I'd just run a marathon.
But beneath the exhaustion, beneath the lingering fear and confusion, something else burned bright and fierce in my chest.
Relief.
And determination.
This time… I won't lose her. No matter what happens, no matter what I have to do, I'll protect her. I'll change fate itself if I have to.
I pushed myself to my feet with renewed purpose, adrenaline flooding my system and washing away the last remnants of shock and disorientation.
Moving with frantic energy, I hurriedly changed out of my sweat-soaked clothes, throwing on the first clean shirt and jeans I could find. I didn't bother with breakfast. I didn't bother checking if I had everything. None of that mattered.
The only thing that mattered was getting to Emily.
I rushed down the stairs of the old apartment building, my footsteps echoing in the narrow stairwell. The ancient steps creaked and groaned beneath my weight as I took them two at a time, nearly tripping in my haste.
I burst through the front door and out into the hot summer streets of Chicago.
The sun was blazing overhead, turning the concrete into a griddle. Heat shimmered up from the pavement in visible waves. The air was thick and humid, making it hard to breathe, but I didn't care. I broke into a jog, then a run, heading toward the nearest train station that would take me to O'Hare.
Hold on, Emily. I'm coming. Just wait for me.
At that same moment, in the bustling chaos of O'Hare International Airport…
The arrivals hall was a sea of humanity.
Travelers rushed past in every direction—businessmen in crisp suits pulling sleek carry-ons, families with crying children and mountains of luggage, tourists consulting maps and phones with confused expressions. Overhead announcements echoed through the cavernous space, announcing departures and arrivals in multiple languages. The air smelled of coffee, cleaning products, and the particular staleness that all airports seemed to share.
In the middle of this organized chaos stood Emily Miller.
She ended the call with her brother, lowering her phone slowly. Her lips curved into a faint smile—subtle but genuine—as she adjusted the thin strap of her bright red dress. The color was striking, eye-catching, like a crimson flower blooming in a field of gray and beige. It complemented her fair skin beautifully, making her stand out even more in the crowd.
Her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, catching the fluorescent lights overhead and gleaming like polished mahogany. She had her father's hair—thick and lustrous—though she had inherited her sharp, elegant features from her mother's side of the family.
Those features were striking in a way that made people do double-takes.
High cheekbones that could cut glass. A straight, refined nose. Full lips that naturally settled into what some might call a cold expression when she wasn't actively smiling. And her eyes—dark brown, intelligent, with a gaze that seemed to see through pretense and false pleasantries.
Her overall aura was one of cool detachment, of someone who existed in a different realm from ordinary people. Poised. Untouchable. Distant as a star.
Many people glanced her way as they passed.
Men did double-takes, some slowing their pace as if working up the courage to approach. Women cast envious or admiring looks, their gazes lingering on her dress, her posture, her entire presence.
But no one dared to actually approach her.
There was something in the way she held herself—that cool, untouchable aura—that kept strangers at bay even as her beauty drew every eye in the vicinity. It was like she was surrounded by an invisible barrier, a force field of dignity and self-possession that warned people to keep their distance.
Emily was used to this reaction.
She had been dealing with unwanted attention for years, ever since high school when she had first blossomed from an awkward teenager into the striking young woman she was now. She had learned to cultivate that cold exterior as a defense mechanism, a way to protect herself from the constant barrage of advances, comments, and stares.
But the truth was, beneath that icy exterior, Emily Miller had a warm heart.
Especially when it came to her younger brother.
Ethan…
She thought about the panicked tone in his voice just now, the way he had practically begged her to stay in the airport. It wasn't like him to sound so desperate, so frightened. Usually, Ethan was easygoing to a fault—lazy even, content to sleep in and take life as it came.
What had gotten into him?
She frowned slightly, genuine concern creeping into her thoughts.
Was he okay? Had something happened?
Emily shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her designer heels clicking softly against the polished airport floor. She glanced at her small carry-on luggage—she always traveled light—and then at the large glass doors leading outside to the taxi stands and passenger pickup areas.
The summer heat was visible even from inside, distorting the air beyond the doors.
Normally, she would have just caught a cab and headed home on her own. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She had been living independently in New York for two years, after all.
But Ethan had sounded so insistent…
"Promise me you won't leave the airport."
His words echoed in her mind.
Emily sighed softly, her expression softening just a fraction.
Alright, little brother. I'll wait.
She found a relatively quiet corner of the arrivals hall, away from the main flow of foot traffic, and settled herself on a bench. She crossed her legs elegantly, smoothed down her red dress, and pulled out her phone to pass the time.
Around her, the airport continued its endless rhythm of arrivals and departures, of tearful reunions and sad goodbyes, of people coming and going on journeys that would change their lives in ways they couldn't yet imagine.
Emily Miller sat there, waiting patiently, completely unaware that this seemingly ordinary morning—this simple act of waiting for her brother—was about to become the turning point of both their destinies.
Unaware that fate had already been rewritten once today.
And unaware that her brother was, at this very moment, racing against time itself to reach her.
To save her.
To protect her from a death that had already happened in another timeline, in another version of this same day.
Just wait for me, Emily, Ethan thought as he flagged down a taxi, his heart pounding with fear and determination. I'm coming. And this time… this time I won't let anything happen to you.
This time, I'll change everything.