Chapter 32: Find Me
TATE ASSOCIATION – 8:15 AM – FRIDAY
El stared at his computer screen.
The Q3 projections were done. Saved. Backed up. Backed up again. He'd checked them three times already.
But his mind wasn't on spreadsheets.
"You."
"Goodnight, El."
He hadn't replied.
Didn't know how.
Didn't know what it meant.
Didn't know what he wanted it to mean.
His phone buzzed.
DEMI: GOOD MORNING FRIDAY! THE LAST DAY BEFORE WE BECOME LEGENDS OR CORPSES! I'VE DECIDED I'M OKAY WITH EITHER OUTCOME.
DEMI: ALSO ALSO ALSO I'VE BEEN THINKING. ABOUT YOUR WHOLE... TIME LOOP THING.
El's heart skipped.
DEMI: HOW MUCH COFFEE HAVE YOU HAD TODAY? BECAUSE I HAD FOUR CUPS AND I STARTED SEEING MY FUTURE. IT WAS JUST MORE SPREADSHEETS. VERY DISAPPOINTING.
DEMI: MY POINT IS. MAYBE. JUST MAYBE. YOU'RE NOT IN A TIME LOOP. MAYBE YOU JUST NEED TO CUT BACK ON THE CAFFEINE.
El stared at the message.
Caffeine.
He thinks it's caffeine.
He thinks I'm crazy because of coffee.
He typed back:
EL: It's not the coffee.
DEMI: THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT SOMEONE WHO DRINKS TOO MUCH COFFEE WOULD SAY.
DEMI: I'M JUST SAYING. TAKE A BREAK. DRINK WATER. TOUCH GRASS. MAYBE THE TIME LOOPS WILL STOP.
DEMI: ALSO MIRA'S BEEN STARING AT YOUR CUBICLE FOR LIKE TEN MINUTES. SHE'S NOT EVEN PRETENDING TO WORK. IT'S KINDA SAD. KINDA ROMANTIC. I CAN'T DECIDE.
El glanced toward Mira's office.
She was looking down at her tablet.
Was she staring?
Or is Demi just being Demi?
He looked back at his phone.
EL: You're impossible.
DEMI: I'M ACCURATE. THERE'S A DIFFERENCE.
DEMI: ALSO I TOLD HOPE YOU'D HELP HER WITH THE TEMPLATE. SHE'S VERY EXCITED. DON'T LET HER DOWN.
DEMI: OKAY THAT'S ALL. FOR NOW. I'LL TEXT YOU AGAIN IN FIVE MINUTES.
---
EL'S CUBICLE – 9:30 AM
El was deep in a spreadsheet when a shadow fell over his desk.
He looked up.
Mira stood there. Coffee cup in hand. Not a paper cup — the ceramic one. The one from her office.
She set it on his desk.
"You didn't finish your coffee yesterday."
El blinked.
"I was distracted."
"You're always distracted lately."
She didn't leave. Just stood there. Waiting.
El picked up the cup. Took a sip. Real coffee. Good coffee.
"Thank you."
Mira nodded. Still didn't leave.
"How are the reports?"
"Done."
"Done done? Or 'done' done?"
El's eyebrow twitched.
"Done done."
Mira almost smiled. Almost.
"You're ahead of schedule again."
"I like patterns."
"I know." A pause.
"I also know you didn't sleep well."
El looked at her.
"How do you know that?"
"Because I didn't either."
The words hung in the air.
El didn't know what to say.
Mira held his gaze. Just a second longer than necessary.
Then she walked away.
Demi appeared instantly.
"DID YOU HEAR THAT. SHE DIDN'T SLEEP. BECAUSE OF YOU. THAT'S ROMANTIC, EL. TEXTBOOK ROMANTIC."
"She probably just had a long night."
"WITH YOU ON HER MIND."
"You're impossible."
"I'M ACCURATE. THERE'S A DIFFERENCE."
From across the way, Mark's voice.
"IS SOMEONE TALKING ABOUT SLEEP? I HAVEN'T SLEPT IN THREE DAYS. THE PRINTER HAUNTS ME."
"MARK, NO ONE ASKED."
"I'M SHARING. IT'S CALLED VULNERABILITY."
---
BREAK ROOM – 12:15 PM
El stood by the window, coffee gone, mind still spinning.
"You."
"Goodnight, El."
"I didn't sleep either."
What does she want?
What do I want?
The door opened.
Hope walked in, travel mug in hand. New sticker today: "ONE DAY AT A TIME."
"Oh! El! Hi!" She beamed.
"Demi said you'd help me with the template. I have SO many questions."
El turned.
"What questions?"
Hope pulled out her laptop. Opened it. Started pointing.
"This section. And this section. And also this section. Actually, maybe the whole thing. Is that okay?"
El sat down. Started explaining.
Hope listened. Nodded. Took notes. Asked more questions.
Twenty minutes passed.
Hope closed her laptop.
"You're really good at this."
"It's just patterns."
"That's what you always say." She tilted her head.
"Do you ever stop working?"
"I'm not working. I'm helping."
"That's still working." She paused.
"Also, Mira was looking at you during lunch."
El blinked.
"She was?"
"Like, looking looking. The kind of looking where someone's not even pretending to read their tablet."
El's chest tightened.
"She was probably thinking about work."
Hope raised an eyebrow.
"She was looking at you, El. Not her tablet. You."
El didn't respond.
Hope sighed.
"You're hopeless."
"So I've been told."
---
EL'S CUBICLE – 3:30 PM
El sat at his desk. Q3 projections done. Pens aligned. Papers stacked.
Normal things.
But nothing felt normal.
"You."
"Goodnight, El."
"I didn't sleep either."
She was looking at me.
Why was she looking at me?
What does she want?
His phone buzzed.
DEMI: OKAY I'VE BEEN OBSERVING. MIRA HAS LOOKED AT YOUR CUBICLE SEVENTEEN TIMES TODAY. I COUNTED. SEVENTEEN.
DEMI: THAT'S NOT NORMAL. THAT'S NOT PROFESSIONAL. THAT'S ROMANTIC.
DEMI: ALSO ALSO ALSO YOU'VE BEEN STARING AT THE WALL FOR TWELVE MINUTES. I COUNTED. TWELVE.
DEMI: ARE YOU OKAY?
El typed back:
EL: I'm fine.
DEMI: YOU'RE NOT FINE. YOU'VE BEEN SAYING 'I'M FINE' FOR LIKE TWO WEEKS. THAT'S NOT FINE.
DEMI: I'M STARTING TO THINK THE TIME LOOPS MIGHT BE REAL. NOT BECAUSE I BELIEVE YOU. BUT BECAUSE YOU KEEP SAYING THE SAME THING OVER AND OVER.
DEMI: THAT'S A LOOP, EL. YOU'RE IN A LOOP OF SAYING 'I'M FINE.'
El stared at the message.
He's not wrong.
I'm not fine.
I haven't been fine for a long time.
He typed back.
EL: Maybe you're right.
DEMI: ...THAT'S SCARY. YOU NEVER SAY I'M RIGHT.
DEMI: I'M GOING TO PRETEND YOU DIDN'T SAY THAT SO I CAN KEEP BEING DRAMATIC.
DEMI: OKAY THAT'S ALL. FOR NOW. I'LL TEXT YOU AGAIN IN TEN MINUTES.
---
EL'S APARTMENT – 10:15 PM
El sat at the kitchen table. No card. No cracker. Just empty space.
Oreo curled on his lap. Purring.
He stared at nothing.
"You."
"Goodnight, El."
"I didn't sleep either."
What does she want?
What do I want?
He thought about Kaye. Fading. Waiting.
He thought about Mira. Coffee. Soft voice.
"You."
He thought about Demi. Chips. Texts.
"I'm here."
He thought about Nev.
"Stop looking for her."
He thought about the lost Tuesday.
What happened to that day?
Why can't I remember?
What am I not seeing?
His phone buzzed.
MIRA: I meant what I said.
MIRA: Last night. I meant it.
El stared at the screen.
She meant it.
She meant you.
He typed back:
EL: I don't know what to say.
MIRA: You don't have to say anything.
MIRA: I just wanted you to know.
A pause.
MIRA: Goodnight, El.
He set the phone down.
Looked at the ceiling.
Kaye is fading.
Mira is here.
Demi is trying.
Nev is watching.
And I'm stuck in the middle.
Not knowing which way to go.
Not knowing if I even have a choice.
He closed his eyes.
The garden materialized around him.
But it was empty.
No Kaye. No Aletheia look-alike. No guide. No voice.
Just the dying garden.
The colors were almost gone — washed out, gray, fading. The fountain was dry, its basin cracked.
The sky-touching tree was bare, its branches skeletal against a bruised purple sky.
The flowers were wilted. Nearly dead.
Memory's bloom. Fading.
Heart's ease. Gone.
Forget-me-not-but-please-do. Barely there.
El walked through the emptiness.
His footsteps left no marks. His voice echoed into nothing.
"Kaye?"
Silence.
"Is anyone here?"
Nothing.
He kept walking.
Past the dead fountain. Past the wilted flowers. Past the empty swing.
And then he saw it.
A single flower.
Still alive. Still glowing.
Not silver like memory's bloom. Not gold like heart's ease. Not purple like forget—me-not-but-please-do.
This one was different.
White. Pure white. Glowing faintly in the dying light.
El knelt beside it.
Reached out.
His fingers hovered over the petals.
What is this?
Why is it still alive?
Why is it here?
He touched it.
The flower didn't wilt. Didn't fade. Just glowed.
And then —
A whisper.
Not in his ears. In his head.
Faint. Distant. Almost gone.
"Find me."
El's heart stopped.
Kaye.
Her voice.
But where is she?
Why won't she show herself?
He looked around. Still empty. Still dying. Still silent.
The flower glowed brighter.
Then dimmed.
Then faded.
El reached for it — but it was already gone.
Just dirt.
Just emptiness.
Just the dying garden.
He stood alone.
No answers. No clues. No guide.
Just a flower he didn't recognize.
Just a whisper he couldn't place.
Just a feeling that he'd missed something important.