Chapter 5

The downpour eased, leaving a strange, uneasy quiet hanging in the air.

How was I supposed to explain this? Should I just tell him I was from the future and that I knew exactly what he would turn into? That I owed him something, or maybe he owed me?

"I..." I stammered, but the words just wouldn't come out.

Just then, Ethan suddenly stumbled and hunched over, his face twisted in pain.

"Hey, are you okay?" I rushed over to grab his arm.

"My foot... I twisted it on the way up," he muttered, sweat breaking out on his forehead. "It's nothing. I can handle it."

Ignoring him, I crouched down and rolled up his pant leg.

His right ankle was badly swollen, the skin bruised a deep, ugly purple.

"You seriously walked all this way with your ankle like that?" I glared at him. "Sit down!"

Ethan sat down obediently on the stone bench, looking totally caught off guard.

I pulled a pain relief spray from my bag, something I had gotten used to carrying because Ethan used to get hurt a lot.

"Seriously, you carry this with you?" he asked, looking surprised.

"I get sprains a lot when I work out," I said, making up an excuse as I knelt beside him. I sprayed his swollen ankle, then pulled a handkerchief from my pocket, dipped it into the rainwater pooled along the shelter's edge, and pressed it gently to his skin.

"This should help with the swelling," I explained as I worked. "When we get back, wrap it up with an elastic bandage. Ice it for the first day, and then use heat to help with circulation."

Ethan watched me quietly, his gaze complicated. "You sure know a lot about this."

"My... friend gets hurt a lot," I said vaguely, suddenly realizing how natural I was at this, like I'd done it a thousand times before.

And honestly, I had.

Back in my last life, every time Ethan dragged himself home with stab wounds or gunshot injuries, I was the one who fixed him up. After a while, I got so good at it that I could've put some hack doctors to shame.

The atmosphere between us shifted, turning a little tense and strangely intimate.

It hit me how close we were, close enough that I could see every eyelash and feel the steady lift of his chest with each breath.

Ethan was eighteen, still carrying that youthful innocence and purity, but there was already a hint of the man he'd grow into.

"Rain's finally stopped." I jumped to my feet, eager to break the tension. "We should go find the others."

Ethan tried to stand, but his bad ankle nearly gave out, and he almost toppled over. I grabbed his arm before he could fall.

"No way I can handle this trail like this," he said with a crooked smile. "You go ahead, Sophia. I'll just drag myself down."

"Are you serious right now?" I squatted down without a second thought. "Hop on. I'll give you a piggyback."

"You? Carry me?" Ethan stared at me like I'd gone completely nuts.

"Hurry up. It's getting dark," I said, not taking no for an answer.

After a bit of arguing, we finally struck a deal. He threw his arm over my shoulder and hopped along on one foot.

And so, the two of us started inching our way down the mountain, slow as molasses.

After we'd gone a little way, Ethan suddenly spoke up, "Sophia..."

"Thanks," he said, his voice quiet but honest. "Whatever your reason is... thanks for everything today."

My nose prickled, and I nearly teared up.

This clueless young man had no idea I was trying to atone.

"Ethan," I stopped and looked him straight in the eye. "Promise me you won't quit school. Let me help you, please?"

He was silent for so long that I started to think he wouldn't answer.

Mist curled through the mountains, and far off, the temple lights glimmered like a pearl in the night.

"Alright," he finally said. "I promise."

At that moment, I could almost hear the gears of fate turning.

It was seven on Saturday morning when I arrived at Sunrise Court, a worn-looking apartment complex with peeling paint and narrow concrete walkways.

A faint mix of mildew and old hallway odors hung in the air.

Ethan was already waiting for me outside his building. When he spotted the small grocery bag in my hand, his expression tightened.

"You didn't have to bring anything," he said. "I thought you were just coming to help me study."

"It's just a little breakfast," I replied, keeping my tone easy. "I picked it up on the way. Your mom might like some fruit."

He hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something but couldn't quite decide how. A sudden, harsh cough echoed from the third floor.

Ethan's expression changed instantly, and he took off toward the stairs. I hurried after him.

His apartment was at the far end of the third-floor corridor. The paint on the door was chipped and pale, a sign of years of neglect, but the area in front of it had been swept clean. He barely got the key into the lock before the door was yanked open from the inside.

A middle-aged woman with a waxy complexion and sunken eyes held on to the doorframe for support, her body trembling with a deep, chest-shaking cough.

She was painfully thin, her baggy pajamas hanging off her as if they belonged to someone much larger, and her wrists were so slight that it looked as though they could barely support her own hands.

"Mom, why are you out of bed?" Ethan hurried to support her.

"I heard you come in..." Linda's voice was so faint it was almost lost in the air, but her gaze fixed on me. "And this is...?"

"This is Sophia Grant, my friend from college. She's here to help me study," Ethan explained. "Sophia, this is my mom."

"Hello, Mrs. Cole," I said, giving a small bow, my heart thudding wildly.

This was Linda, Ethan's mother. I had never met her in my previous life because she had already passed away by the time I came into his world, and losing her was what pushed him toward the darkness he eventually fell into.

"Come on. Have a seat." Linda tried to smile at me, but another coughing fit cut her off.

Ethan's home was even more humble than I'd imagined, but it was unbelievably tidy.