Chapter 2

"Are you okay, Sarah? You look like you' ve seen a ghost."

Chloe was looking at me, her head tilted with concern.

I stared at her, the sight of her alive and well was so overwhelming I couldn' t speak. The memory of her empty bed, the sterile room, was so fresh in my mind.

"I' m fine," I finally managed to say, my voice hoarse. "Just a weird dream."

I had to act normal. If I panicked, if I told her she was going to die, she' d think I was crazy. I had to be smart about this.

"I' m skipping class," I said, my mind racing. "I don' t feel well."

"Okay. Want me to bring you back some soup from the dining hall?" she asked, grabbing her backpack.

"No, I' ll be fine. You go. Don' t be late."

The moment the door closed behind her, I sprang into action.

The phone. I needed to call her. I needed to keep her on the line, keep her talking, keep her away from whatever was going to happen.

I found her number in my contacts and hit dial.

It rang once, twice, then went to voicemail.

"Hey, it' s Chloe. Leave a message."

I hung up and tried again. Straight to voicemail. She must have silenced her phone for class.

Okay, plan B. Emily. Maybe Emily knew something. I scrolled through my contacts and called her.

"Hello?"

"Emily, it' s Sarah. I need to ask you something important. About Chloe."

"Is everything okay?" she asked, a note of worry in her voice.

"Is she acting... weird to you? Has she said anything? About being in trouble?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"I mean, she' s been a little down," Emily said slowly. "Finals are stressing everyone out. Why? Did she say something to you?"

She didn' t know. In the first timeline, she was the one who texted me. But right now, she was just another student worried about exams. She couldn' t help me.

"No, never mind. It' s nothing," I said, and hung up.

I was alone in this.

The dorm was quiet. It was the end of the semester, and most students with morning classes were already gone. The building felt eerily empty, amplifying my sense of isolation. I paced the small room, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I had three days. But three days felt like no time at all. What was I supposed to do? Follow her everywhere? Lock her in the room?

My eyes fell on the floorboards under her bed. The burner phone and the journal. They were still there. The source of the whole nightmare. If I could get them, if I could see what was in them, maybe I could figure out who was threatening her.

But I couldn't just take them. She would notice they were gone.

Think, Sarah, think.

I had to stop it from happening. The event itself.

The memory of the first time came back, sharp and brutal. The flashing lights. The yellow tape. Emily' s terrified face. "She fell."

From the window. She fell from our dorm window.

Our window faced the main quad. It was a six-story drop. The scene I had only arrived at after the fact now played out in my mind with horrifying clarity. I imagined her standing there, the wind in her hair. I imagined the impact.

A wave of nausea washed over me.

No. I wouldn' t let that happen. Not this time.

But when was it going to happen? The first time, it was a Friday evening. I had three days. But what if my being here, my knowing, changed the timeline? What if it happened sooner?

The uncertainty was torture.

I couldn' t just sit here and wait. I had to find her.

I threw on a hoodie and ran out of the room, not even bothering to lock the door. I sprinted down the stairs, taking them two at a time, my feet pounding on the concrete.

I burst out into the main quad. The sun was bright. Students were walking to class, chatting, laughing. A perfectly normal Wednesday morning.

Where was her first class? Psychology, in Hamilton Hall. I knew her schedule by heart.

I ran across the quad, my lungs burning. I had to get to her. I had to see her, to make sure she was okay. I didn' t have a plan beyond that. I just needed to see that she was still breathing.

I rounded the corner to Hamilton Hall, a large, ivy-covered brick building.

And then I saw it.

A small crowd was gathering near the side of the building. People were pointing upwards, their faces a mixture of confusion and horror.

My blood ran cold.

No.

Not now. Not today. It was Wednesday. It was supposed to be Friday.

I pushed my way through the onlookers, my throat tight with dread.

I looked up.

And I saw a flash of blue.

It was her favorite hoodie. The one she' d been wearing just an hour ago.

For a split second, she was just a shape against the sky.

Then she was falling.

Time seemed to slow down. I saw her face, her eyes wide with shock. Not despair. Shock.

It was just for a moment.

Then the sickening, final sound of impact.

Screams erupted around me.

I stood frozen, staring at the spot where she had landed.

I was too late. Again.

Even with a second chance, even knowing what was coming, I was too late. The world dissolved into a meaningless blur of noise and light. The only thing that was real was the crushing, absolute finality of my failure.