6:32 AM
The alarm rang.
Arin opened his eyes before the second ring.
For a few seconds, he remained still, staring at the ceiling of his childhood bedroom.
April 28.
He remembered this date.
In his first life, this was the day Kyle Alexander left school.
Not temporarily. Not for a few days.
He left, and their friendship never recovered.
Arin sat up abruptly.
"No."
His hand immediately reached for the notebook beside his bed. He had started writing down everything he remembered from his original timeline.
The page for April 28 contained only one sentence.
Kyle leaves school.
Arin grabbed a pen and crossed it out.
"Not this time."
He wrote beneath it:
Today, I find out why.
A faint ticking sound came from his desk.
Arin froze.
The broken pocket watch lay beside his books. Its hands had been stuck at 11:17 for days.
Now its second hand had moved.
Once.
Twice.
Then it stopped.
Arin slowly approached it.
"What are you trying to tell me?"
His phone vibrated.
A message from Kyle appeared on the screen.
Kyle: Bro, you're coming early today, right?
Arin stared at the message, his chest tightening with an unfamiliar mixture of relief and fear.
In his first life, Kyle had sent him almost the same message that morning.
Arin had ignored it.
This time, he replied immediately.
Arin: Yeah. Wait for me at the school gate.
Kyle responded with a laughing emoji.
Kyle: Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?
Arin smiled despite himself.
For the first time that morning, the future seemed changeable.
Then another notification appeared.
An unknown number.
UNKNOWN: You crossed out the wrong sentence.
Arin's smile disappeared.
A second message arrived.
UNKNOWN: Kyle doesn't leave school because of the examination paper.
His fingers tightened around the phone.
UNKNOWN: He leaves because of you.
The pocket watch began ticking.
Eleven seventeen.
The hands moved backward.
And somewhere outside his bedroom, the clock struck seven
Outside the School Gate
"ARIN!"
Kyle's voice cut through the morning crowd.
The blond-haired boy jogged toward him, his schoolbag hanging from one shoulder.
"You actually came early. Should I call a doctor?"
"Very funny."
"I'm serious. Yesterday you studied until midnight, and today you're here before me. Next you'll tell me you've become class topper."
"Maybe I will."
Kyle stopped walking.
He stared at Arin.
Then he burst out laughing.
"Okay, now I'm worried."
Arin laughed too, but his eyes remained on his friend.
Kyle was alive and well. He was standing right there, complaining about homework as though nothing in the world could ever separate them.
Arin remembered another version of this moment.
A version in which he had looked away when Kyle needed him most.
He remembered the empty seat beside him.
The unanswered messages.
The last time Kyle had looked at him, not with anger, but disappointment.
I thought you would at least tell the truth, Arin.
Arin swallowed.
"Hey, Kyle?"
"Hmm?"
"If something bad happens today, promise me you'll talk to me before making any decisions."
Kyle tilted his head.
"What kind of dramatic movie dialogue is that?"
"Just promise me."
For a moment, Kyle's teasing expression softened.
"Fine. I promise."
He held out his fist.
Arin bumped it with his own.
A tiny gesture.
An ordinary moment.
One that Arin had lost once already.
Neither boy noticed the girl standing across the street.
Mira Solen watched them with a notebook pressed against her chest.
She opened it to a fresh page.
The date was already written at the top.
APRIL 28 — SECOND TIMELINE
Beneath it, in handwriting that was unmistakably her own, were three lines:
Arin arrives early.
Kyle promises to stay.
At 11:17, one of them will remember everything.
Mira stared at the final sentence.
"I didn't write that," she whispered.
The school bell rang.
And the clock tower stopped.
11:17.