Marcus POV
At exactly 2 PM, both our phones buzz simultaneously.
Aria and I are sitting in a small restaurant three blocks from campus, celebrating her scholarship win with cheap noodles. We look at each other, then at our phones.
Unknown number: "Time for your next lesson. Marcus, you have $500,000. Aria won $50,000. Combined, you have enough to change your futures. But money without strategy is just paper. Check your email. Your first investment opportunity is waiting. You have 3 hours to decide."
I open my email. A detailed stock report appears—professional, thorough, terrifying.
"Apple Inc. Current price: $5.12 per share. In 90 days, iPod announcement will triple stock value. Recommended investment: $200,000. Projected return: $600,000."
Below that: "Google IPO. Launching in 45 days. Initial price: $85. Within 6 months: $300+. Recommended investment: $150,000. Projected return: $500,000+."
More companies. More numbers. More impossible predictions.
"This is insane," Aria whispers, reading over my shoulder. "This is insider trading. This is illegal."
"No." I scan the document carefully. "Insider trading is using private company information. This is just... really good predictions based on public information. Technically legal."
"Really good predictions? Marcus, these are EXACT numbers! How can they possibly know—" She stops. Her face goes pale. "Unless they're from the future too."
The thought hits me like ice water.
What if the mysterious messenger isn't just helping me? What if they're ALSO from the future? Someone else who died and came back, like me?
My phone buzzes: "Smart girl. Yes, I know the future. No, I'm not from your timeline. There are others, Marcus. Others who've been given second chances. You're not special. You're just willing to listen. Now—invest or don't. But choose wisely. This money can change everything, or it can disappear. David is waiting at the campus library. He needs a partner for his gaming app. Invest in HIM too. You have until 5 PM."
"David," I breathe. My best friend. The guy whose gaming company made fifty million in my first life—AFTER I refused to help him.
"Who's David?" Aria asks.
"My roommate. My best friend. He's a genius programmer." I'm already standing. "In my first life, he invented a game that made millions. But I told him it was stupid. I listened to Rebecca's mother instead of my own friend. I can't make that mistake again."
Aria grabs her bag. "Then let's go fix it."
We run to the library. David is there, hunched over a computer, coding something with intense focus. He looks up when I approach, surprised.
"Marcus? What are you doing here? I thought you were avoiding campus after—" He glances at Aria. "Wait, are you the girl from the coffee shop drama? The one who took down Rebecca Zhang?"
Aria's eyes widen. "It's already online?"
"Dude, it's EVERYWHERE. Rebecca getting arrested while screaming about being framed? Viral. You're campus heroes." David grins. "Nice work, by the way. She's been bullying people for years."
"David." I sit down across from him. "Your dragon puzzle game. The one you showed me last month. I want to invest."
His smile fades. "What?"
"I want to invest. Fifty thousand dollars. To develop it properly. Hire designers. Market it. I believe in it."
David stares at me like I've grown two heads. "Marcus, you told me that game was a waste of time. You said I should focus on getting a 'real job' after graduation."
The words stab me. Because I remember saying them. Exactly those words. While Rebecca's mother nodded approvingly in the background, already planning how to control every aspect of my life.
"I was wrong," I say firmly. "I was stupid, listening to the wrong people. Your game is brilliant. It's going to be huge. And I want to help you make it happen."
"Where would you even get fifty thousand dollars?"
"Investments. Scholarships. It doesn't matter where." I lean forward. "David, you're my best friend. In—" I almost say "my first life" but catch myself. "I've seen your talent. Your vision. Don't let it go to waste because of money. Let me be your partner. 40-60 split. You get the bigger share because it's your creation."
David looks at Aria. "Is he serious?"
"Unfortunately, yes," she says. "He's been making insane decisions all day. But somehow, they keep working out."
"I need to see the game," I say. "Show me what you've built so far."
For the next hour, David walks us through his creation. It's exactly as I remembered—addictive puzzle mechanics, cute dragon characters, perfect for mobile devices that don't exist yet but will soon.
In my first life, a big company stole this idea five years later and made billions. David got nothing because he couldn't afford to patent it or market it properly.
Not this time.
"I'm in," I tell him. "Fifty thousand dollars. We patent everything immediately. We launch in six months."
"Six months?" David looks panicked. "That's not enough time—"
"It is if we hire the right people. And I know exactly who to hire." Thanks to twenty-four years of watching the tech industry from the sidelines in my miserable first life.
David's hands shake as we draft a partnership agreement on his laptop. "I can't believe this is happening."
"Believe it," Aria says softly. She's been quiet, watching everything. "Marcus knows what he's doing. Somehow."
At 4:30 PM, David and I shake hands. Partners.
My phone buzzes: "Good choice. David's game launches in 6 months and makes $2 million in the first year. $50 million by year five. You just secured your future. Now—the stocks. You have 30 minutes to set up your brokerage account and make your purchases. The window closes at 5 PM exactly. After that, prices change."
"I need a computer," I tell Aria. "Now."
We use David's laptop. I set up an account with an online broker, transfer $200,000 to Apple stock, $150,000 to Google's upcoming IPO. My hands shake the entire time.
This is insane. I'm betting my entire second chance on stock tips from a mysterious stranger.
But what choice do I have? In my first life, I played it safe and lost everything. This time, I'm taking risks.
At 4:59 PM, I click "confirm purchase."
The screen loads. And loads. And loads.
"Come on," I whisper. "Don't freeze now."
5:00 PM.
The screen refreshes.
"ORDER CONFIRMED. 39,062 shares of Apple purchased at $5.12 per share."
I did it. I actually did it.
Aria squeezes my shoulder. "You just bet $200,000 on a computer company that everyone says is dying."
"Everyone's wrong," I say with more confidence than I feel. "In three months, we'll see."
Both phones buzz.
"Excellent. Now comes the hard part. Linda Zhang just posted bail for Rebecca. They're planning revenge. Tonight. At your mother's house, Marcus. They know where she lives. They're going to threaten her, scare her, make her force you to drop all charges. You need to get there first. You have 45 minutes. But here's the problem: if you go, you'll miss your meeting with Professor Zhao. He's going to offer you a special research position tonight at 6 PM—a position that leads to connections worth millions. Choose: Save your mother from intimidation, or secure your future wealth."
My blood turns to ice. "My mother."
"What?" Aria reads the message, her face going pale. "They're going after your mom?"
"She has a weak heart. If they scare her—" I can't finish. In my first life, my mother died from stress. From watching me suffer in my terrible marriage. From knowing I'd thrown my life away.
"Then we go," Aria says firmly. "Obviously we go. Money doesn't matter if your mom gets hurt."
But the message isn't done.
Another text: "Wrong choice, Aria. Money ALWAYS matters. The research position with Professor Zhao leads to meeting investment bankers, tech CEOs, venture capitalists. It's worth $50 million in future connections. Miss it, and Marcus stays small forever. But Linda will destroy his mother's peace of mind tonight. She'll threaten, intimidate, maybe even hurt her. Choose wisely. 44 minutes left."
"This is sick," Aria whispers. "They're making you choose between your mother and your future."
"There's no choice." I'm already grabbing my bag. "My mother comes first. Always."
My phone buzzes again: "Predictable. Honorable. Stupid. Fine. Go save mommy. But when Professor Zhao gives that position to someone else, remember: you chose this. Every choice has consequences. P.S. - Rebecca will be there when you arrive. With a recording device. She plans to provoke you into attacking her, then use the recording as evidence. Don't fall for it."
David looks between us, completely confused. "What is happening? Who are you people?"
"It's complicated," I say, heading for the door.
Aria follows. "How do we get to your mother's house in 40 minutes? That's across the city!"
Good question. Bus takes an hour. Taxi costs money I just spent on stocks.
My phone buzzes: "Parking garage, level B2, space 47. Black sedan. Keys under driver's mat. Consider it a loan. Return it tomorrow. GO."
We run to the garage. The car is exactly where they said. Keys underneath the mat.
"This is insane," Aria says as I start the engine. "We're stealing a car now?"
"Borrowing." I peel out of the garage. "There's a difference."
"Not legally!"
Traffic is terrible. Every light turns red. I'm sweating, hands gripping the steering wheel.
35 minutes to get across the city.
My phone buzzes one final time:
"You're not going to make it in time. But that's the point. Life isn't fair. Second chances don't mean everything goes perfectly. They mean you get to choose WHICH things to save. Your mother's peace, or your financial empire. You can't have both. Welcome to the real test, Marcus. This is where most people fail."
The message deletes itself.
And ahead, through the windshield, I see brake lights. Miles and miles of brake lights.
Traffic jam. Complete gridlock.
We're not going to make it.
And Rebecca is already there.