Chapter 34
MYLES
I walk out of the prison, quietly. I didn’t tell anyone this was the day because I didn’t want to alarm them with what I’m about to do. I couldn’t have my mom or Sam trying to talk me out of it. I couldn’t watch the happiness on their faces from me being released only to rip it away from them.
I fought for this day. No, I begged for this day. This is the last possible day to get to Emma before she falls off the bridge. But saving Emma isn’t enough. I need her to be happy. I have to give Emma her life back and the only way to do that is to save Mallory too.
As soon as my feet hit the pavement, I take off running.
I’ve spent months thinking about every possible solution to this puzzle. I’ve agonized over every detail of my time with Emma from our childhood to the moment she left this world.
And the time loop.
The way she couldn’t change it, no matter how hard she tried.
Am I being unrealistic for thinking I can?
What if I only make it worse? Or what if I lose her in every version of time?
What if I fell in love with the one person I can never truly have?
The one person who’ll always be just out of reach.
I run toward the main road, sweat on my brow and a cramp in my leg. It doesn’t matter though. The adrenaline pumping through me has my body on fire and I push forward.
There’s so much I still don’t know, like the exact time Emma fell off the bridge or where she was before that point. But what I do know is that if anyone is going to save her, it’s going to be me.
I’m going to fix this twisted mess even if it’s the last thing I do. I refuse to accept a life without her. I can’t. Not when I know it’s possible to go back in time and correct the past.
Dark clouds loom overhead and the crisp promise of rain lingers in the air. Sunlight is nowhere to be found.
A car on the horizon speeds closer and it takes me a moment to let my eyes adjust.
It’s an older silver sedan with black rimmed tires, and it’s too familiar for it to be a coincidence . . .
It’s my car.
It skids to a stop in front of me, and before I have time to figure out what’s going on, the driver leans over the center console and props the door open for me.
But I can’t move.
I’ve seen his eyes a million times before in the mirror.
It’s me.
My chest tightens and my mind spins. Why is he here? He must be from the future. Does that mean he jumped?
“Get in,” he says. It isn’t a suggestion. It’s an order. “We don’t have time to waste.”
I’m panting like a dog as I get into the passenger seat. This is even more jarring than seeing two Emmas.
“How?” I mutter.
He tilts his head. “Come on, you’re smart. You know what I did. I jumped.”
My hands are clammy as I reach for the seatbelt.
He doesn’t wait for me to buckle. Tires skid as he drives off.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“Because you won’t make it in time.”
I cough, beating my chest with a fist. That can’t be true. I did everything I could to be released in time to save her.
“I won’t?” I ask, heart dropping.
“Not without me,” he says. “Now listen very closely. We’ve done this before.
I’ve been where you are and nothing works.
No matter how hard you try, you don’t get there in time to talk to her.
You can’t tell her about Mallory. The only way to stop this is to break the cycle.
You have to stop her from falling into the water. ”
I touch my head with both hands, trying to process all of this information. “We’ve done this before?”
He nods. “A year ago I was in the passenger seat of this car instead of you, so trust me.”
“What do I need to do?”
He takes a sharp turn and I hit my head against the window. He’s driving too fast.
“You’re going to emerge from the water downstream, and you’re going to be in shock.
Start swimming as soon as you can. You have to get out of the water before you pass the river bend.
Get out of the water and hike up to the main road.
There’s a bike leaning against the first gray house you see. Take it and go.”
“Just take it?” That seems wrong. I’d never walk up to someone’s house and take something without asking.
“Don’t hesitate like I did. Take the bike and pedal faster than you ever have before.”
“But—”
“There’s no time for questions. Trust me. I was so close. I saw her sitting on the ledge.”
“You saw her?”
“I saw her.”
I want to cry at the affirmation that I'll see her again with my own eyes.
I’m going to see Emma.
A siren sounds behind us, and he looks in the rearview mirror. He isn’t surprised. It’s like this has happened before.
How many times have we done this?
He doesn’t stop. He hits the gas harder.
We’re close. Too close to stop.
The bridge is in sight and we’re speeding toward it.
“You’re going to have to run!” he yells.
“What do you mean?”
“Just trust me and run!”
Another cop turns onto the road in front and slows their speed, forcing us to slow down too.
“Go!” future me yells when the car comes to a full stop.
I push open the door and bolt. I don’t give myself time to think about anything other than the bridge.
I block out the sounds behind me. The commotion. The police. The chaos.
My feet are on the bridge and a second later I’m at the ledge. I pull myself up on the stones and hurl my body over.
I’m weightless in the air, heart rate spiking as I descend, but there isn’t a doubt in my mind that I made the right decision.
I hit the water and it pulls me under. Cool water rushes over my face, sending a shiver down my spine.
It’s dark all around me. It’s like I’m sinking deep into the ocean, not a river. My arms and legs are outstretched above me, not moving.
There’s the faintest glint of light above me, reflecting off the surface. All at once, I jolt myself into action as Emma comes rushing to my mind.
I beat against the water, propelling myself up.
My limbs are heavy, not wanting to cooperate, and my clothes cling to my skin.
When I reach the top, I gasp for air, trying to find my bearings.
My glasses are gone and everything is blurry.
I can barely make out the shapes in the distance.
The trees blend into each other and the water pushes me farther downstream.
I whip my head around. I can see the silhouette of the bridge, but it’s getting farther away by the second.
The river bend isn’t far from the bridge.
I have to get out of the water.
Struggling to catch my breath, I swim toward the rocky shore. As soon as I get my footing, I stumble out of the water.
My head is light, and I want to lie down. I want to take a moment to breathe, but I know I don’t have time.
I need to keep moving.
I need to get to Emma.
As I force myself to put one foot in front of the other, my lungs burn and my mouth goes dry from breathing in too much too quickly. Still, I push through the discomfort and climb the steep hill toward the main road.
Despite not being able to see well, I can make out colors. There’s a gray house three houses down and I run.
Don’t hesitate.
I run up to the house, not caring to see if I’m being noticed or watched. There’s a bike right where he said it would be. I grab the handlebars and jump on, pedaling out of the yard. The bridge is close. So close.
I fly down the road with rain pelting me.
My bones ache from the fall, pain shooting through my joints with every movement. My hands are numb from gripping the handlebars so tightly.
But it’s all worth it because there she is. She’s sitting on the ledge.
My Emma.
I call out to her. I scream her name.
But I’m too far away.
She doesn’t react. She doesn’t move or look in my direction. Her focus is below.
I yell again as I near and this time her head moves ever so slightly. Then she stands. She’s turning.
I’m almost there.
She slips, screaming.
I throw the bike down, sprinting toward the spot. Her hands are grabbing at the slippery stone wall to no avail. Her fingers slip right off.
Her hand is outstretched in midair.
Her eyes are frightened.
I reach for her, leaning over the edge. My body is barely hanging on, but my hand grasps for hers.
My fingers lock on to her wrist.
I did it.
I breathe a sigh of relief, staring down at her wild hair and hoping this is enough to fix everything that was broken.
She grabs on to me with her other hand, and I pull her up.
I don’t know what’s going through her head or if she even realizes it’s me. But none of that matters. The only thing that matters is she’s safe.
My heart relaxes as she lifts her leg onto the ledge.
When her body is fully over and she’s sitting on the road, the world begins to fade . . .