The first thing Elara noticed—
was the sound.
Rain.
Soft.
Steady.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
Her breath caught before she even opened her eyes.
No.
Not again.
Her fingers curled slightly against the surface beneath her.
Wood.
Warm.
Solid.
Not like before.
Not like that place.
Her eyes snapped open.
The ceiling.
Unbroken.
Still.
Normal.
She sat up too quickly.
The room tilted—
then steadied.
The apartment.
Their apartment.
Exactly the way it used to be.
Before.
Before everything.
Her chest tightened.
"…No."
It wasn't fear.
It was disbelief.
Because she remembered.
She remembered the door.
The absence.
The thing that watched.
And this—
this wasn't that.
This was earlier.
Her pulse began to race.
She pushed herself off the bed.
The floor felt real.
Too real.
Each step grounded her.
That made it worse.
Because this—
felt like something she could lose.
"Elara?"
The voice came from the kitchen.
She froze.
Liam.
Her throat tightened instantly.
That voice—
was different.
Not strained.
Not fractured.
Whole.
Alive in a way she hadn't heard in a long time.
"Are you okay?" he called again.
She didn't answer.
She couldn't.
Her body moved before her thoughts caught up.
She stepped into the hallway.
The light was softer here.
Golden.
Warm.
Wrong.
Because nothing had felt warm in a long time.
She reached the doorway slowly.
And there he was.
Liam stood at the counter, sleeves slightly rolled, one hand resting against the edge, the other holding a cup.
Completely—
normal.
He turned when he noticed her.
Concern flickered across his face.
Real concern.
Not calculated.
Not distant.
"Elara?"
He stepped closer.
"You look like you've seen something."
She stared at him.
Too long.
Too hard.
Her chest rose unevenly.
"…What day is it?" she asked.
Liam blinked.
"What?"
"What day is it?" she repeated.
His expression shifted slightly.
"Thursday," he said slowly. "Why?"
Thursday.
Her breath hitched.
That was—
before.
Before the first body.
Before the sirens.
Before everything broke.
Her knees almost gave out.
Liam caught her instantly.
"Hey—"
His hand steadied her.
Warm.
Firm.
Real.
She flinched slightly.
Not away—
but toward him.
Her fingers caught his sleeve.
"…You're here," she whispered.
Liam frowned.
"Yeah," he said softly. "Where else would I be?"
Her eyes burned.
Because she knew the answer to that.
Too many answers.
She shook her head.
"Nothing," she said quickly.
But it wasn't nothing.
It was everything.
Liam studied her for a moment.
Then—
"Did you sleep at all?" he asked.
She didn't answer.
Because she didn't know how to explain—
that she had lived through something that hadn't happened yet.
"I'm fine," she said.
It sounded wrong.
Even to her.
Liam didn't look convinced.
But he didn't push.
Not like before.
Not like later.
He just nodded.
"Okay," he said.
Simple.
Trusting.
That hurt more than anything.
Because this version of him—
didn't know.
And she did.
Her gaze dropped.
Then—
she saw it.
The table.
A set of keys.
And beside it—
a folded piece of paper.
Her breath stopped.
"No…"
She moved toward it slowly.
Liam watched her.
"Elara?"
She didn't answer.
Her fingers reached out—
and unfolded it.
The handwriting—
was hers.
Her chest tightened.
It read:
DON'T TRUST HIM.
Her vision blurred.
Her hand trembled.
Behind her—
Liam stepped closer.
"What is that?"
She turned—
too quickly.
"Nothing."
Too fast.
Too sharp.
He paused.
Something flickered in his eyes.
Not suspicion.
Not yet.
But—
something.
She swallowed.
And then—
for the first time—
she made a decision.
Not based on fear.
Not based on pattern.
But—
on instinct.
She stepped closer to him.
And took his hand.
Liam froze.
"Elara—?"
She didn't let go.
Her grip tightened.
"Look at me," she said.
Her voice was quiet.
But steady.
He did.
Their eyes met.
And for a moment—
everything else disappeared.
The loops.
The fractures.
The fear.
"Did you hurt anyone?" she asked.
The question landed between them.
Heavy.
Honest.
Liam didn't pull away.
He didn't hesitate.
"No."
No pause.
No shift.
Just—
truth.
Something inside her broke.
Not in fear.
In relief.
Her grip loosened slightly.
She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
"…Okay," she whispered.
And she believed him.
Not because of logic.
Not because of evidence.
But because—
this version of him hadn't learned how to lie yet.
And that—
meant something.
Behind them—
the door creaked.
Slow.
Subtle.
They both turned.
It wasn't open.
But it wasn't closed either.
Just—
slightly—
off.
Elara's chest tightened.
Not again.
Liam stepped forward.
"I'll check it," he said.
"No."
The word came out too fast.
He stopped.
She swallowed.
"It's nothing," she said quickly.
But she knew—
it wasn't.
Because she could feel it.
That same—
watching.
But this time—
it wasn't coming from the door.
It was—
behind them.
Closer.
Inside.
She turned slowly.
And her gaze landed on the hallway.
Empty.
Still.
Too still.
And for a second—
just a second—
she saw him.
Aaron.
Standing there.
Not moving.
Not speaking.
Just—
watching.
Then—
he was gone.
"Elara?" Liam said.
She didn't answer.
Because something inside her had already shifted.
The note said:
Don't trust him.
But it never said—
who.
And now—
she wasn't sure it meant Liam at all.