Chapter 2

Jason sent another message. [So, please tell me, who are you?]

I looked down, the light gone from my eyes.

[I'm basically a god. I can see the future.]

Jason shot back, [I'm all about logic and science. No gods, no ghosts for me.]

I was taken aback by his response, but then his next message popped up. [But I'm open to hearing your prediction. What do you know?]

I didn't know if telling him would change that matter.

But as I lifted my hand, gently tracing the scar on my face, I thought maybe—just maybe—the past could really be changed.

[The day after Emily's birthday, she'll be dragged to a corner and bullied by a group of thugs. They'll burn her face with cigarette butts,] I texted.

Jason replied quickly, [Got it. I'll keep an eye out.]

After that, he didn't send anything else.

I put the phone away. It was past midnight, and neither Jason nor our son, Harold, had come home yet.

Normally, I'd be worried sick, calling them non-stop until they got back.

But that night, I just calmly washed up and went to bed.

The next morning, the house was still empty. Jason and Harold still hadn't come back.

I kept a straight face, but when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I washed up, my heart skipped a beat. My skin was perfectly smooth—not a single burn mark in sight. My eyes went wide in disbelief.

Suddenly, a brand-new memory crashed into my mind.

The day after my seventeenth birthday, I was still cornered by a group of thugs.

But just as they tried to burn my face with cigarettes, Jason burst onto the scene and threw himself in front of me, shielding me.

I couldn't believe it—the past had actually changed.

With a stunned laugh and tears rolling down my cheeks, I scrambled to pull out that old phone from my pocket.

A new message flashed on the screen, including just a few simple words.

[Thank you. I saved her.]

Without hesitation, I tapped out a message to Jason at seventeen. [Would you be willing to save Emily one more time?]

He replied almost immediately, [Is something else going to happen? What should I do?]

[Whatever you do, don't tell her you like her. Just keep your distance,] I replied.

Even through the screen, I could picture the confusion and suspicion on his face. [Why?] he asked.

[If you get together, you'll end up hurting her in the future,] I replied.

Jason immediately shot back, [No way! I really love Emily.

[Just today, Emily scraped her knee, so right after class, I went to the clinic and bought her all kinds of Band-Aids.

[Her deskmate, that big guy, tried to bully her into doing his homework, so I just ripped the whole thing up in his face.

[When she gets sick, has a fever, or even seems a little off, honestly, it feels like my heart is about to break.

[And even facing so many thugs, I still charged in to protect her. She's my whole world. I could never hurt her.]

I read his passionate texts, and every line seemed to strip away the old, beautiful memories we once shared.

Back when Jason was seventeen, I was the center of his world.

But at thirty, Jason just hurled cruel words at me, without a shred of hesitation.

Once, he swore he'd always look after me. Now, I was just someone he had to take care of, no feelings attached.

I dropped my gaze. [No one stays the same forever,] I texted.

[So tell me,] Jason messaged, [how do I end up letting her down?]

I hesitated, my fingers still above the keyboard. All those memories flashed before me, yet I couldn't even figure out where to begin.

Just then, my phone rang. I picked up, and Carl Howard's voice came through, sounding rushed. "Emily, Jason's had a bit too much to drink. Can you come pick him up? Harold's here too."

The background noise was loud, and I could just make out things crashing in the distance.

A wave of panic hit me, and a bad feeling settled in my stomach. I hurried to the address Carl had sent me.

On the way, I couldn't shake Jason's question—his words were stuck looping in my mind.

At last, I pulled out my phone, stared at the screen for a moment, and then pressed record, my hand trembling ever so slightly.

Now that Jason was curious, I'd let him hear about all the crap he pulled when he turned thirty.