《The Timekeepers' Inheritance》 Nobody Here Can Breathe ¡°Well?¡± Noah asked, more than a hint of impatience in his voice. Charlotte continued to stare at him as if he¡¯d asked her what a dog was. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and shifted her weight to one hip, a far cry from her natural good posture after years of gymnastics. Her disgust was evident in her tone as she muttered, "Jeez Noah, it¡¯s like you were estranged or something¡­¡± The two had always been close, even when Noah had taken on the annoying younger brother role in middle school. Like all siblings so close in age, they¡¯d had their disagreements, but above anything else they¡¯d always been each other¡¯s best friend. Charlotte had never experienced such bewilderment by something he had said or done. ¡±We grew up in the same house. I mean, first of all¡­¡± She trailed off with a sigh, shaking her head in frustrated exasperation. She wasn¡¯t even sure where to begin. ¡°Did Mom used to have a drug problem or something?¡± He¡¯d asked the question only moments ago as they sat in the hospital room, the woman in question unconscious beside them. It was just the latest in a string of strange comments and questions he¡¯d been making since she¡¯d returned home from college. ¡°Don¡¯t worry I won¡¯t get lost in the attic on the way.¡° muttered as he left to pick up dinner the previous night was another example. And when she¡¯d first got there, he¡¯d said something else that was strange¡­ ¡°She¡¯s not really here anyway, she¡¯s sometime else.¡± She thought it was, some time else, she hadn¡¯t really processed it at the time and then later had thought she misheard him. This last question was just too much to ignore though, Noah was losing it. Charlotte swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to muster all the patience she could. He¡¯s still in high school, she reminded herself. This has to be hitting him harder. Besides, Mom and Dad have always been more protective of him than me. Her little brother looked lost, like he had when facing a troubling math equation in earlier years. His own shoulders were slumped slightly, almost seeming apologetic for being taller than her and his hands were in his pockets as he looked away from her face. Noah had stood up shortly after she had, moving around the bed so that their mother was behind him. ¡°I¡¯m barely three years older than you,¡± she began, ¡°so don¡¯t you think my memories are probably just about the same as yours?¡± Charlotte didn¡¯t wait for an answer before continuing. ¡°And don¡¯t you think that if I knew something like that, you would too?¡± Their mother had always been open with them, sometimes to a fault. Charlotte was sure that if she had struggled with something so serious, she¡¯d have talked about it with her children. The thought of it sent heat rising up her neck again. Her temples throbbed, and it felt like the air in the room thickened. "I don¡¯t know where these things are coming from. Have you been saying this stuff to Dad? You know how hard this is for him." She tried to sound calm but could feel her words tightening, slipping into that superior tone she hated¡ªthe same one she¡¯d used as a know-it-all kid. Since her father¡¯s call earlier that week about their mother¡¯s worsening condition, the anxiety had been building inside her. Now, the hospital room felt like a furnace, her skin on fire. All her discomfort and uncertainty zeroed in on Noah. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Her father entered the room, clearing his throat, cutting off any further lecturing. Noah flashed her a warning look. ¡°Oh,¡± Charlotte swallowed, turning and hugging the older man, ¡°hi Dad.¡± She still had to lean up a bit to kiss his bearded cheek, though not the way her mother had always had to stand on tip toe as her father bent his head to kiss her. Her mother who had always seemed so strong to her, now reduced to a pile of blankets and sheets with a gnarled hand and waxy face peeking out. Her hair, never her mothers favorite feature, was limp and white. At least it wasn''t greasy or straggly. And she didn¡¯t look very wrinkled. Charlotte thought she¡¯d be happy for that much. She blinked back the wetness that threatened to spill over her eyes and onto her cheeks. Looking at her father brought little respite. He¡¯d lost the weight he¡¯d carried most of her childhood in their most recent attempts to get in shape - her mother had wanted them to stay fit now that Noah would be graduating high school. But now her dad was starting to look shrunken too, his clothes too big, his face haggard. She had to get out of there. Now. It was all too much. She couldn¡¯t be in the same room with two dying parents and an unhinged baby brother. She needed to be back at school. If she were in the library where she could get lost in her work. As Charlotte started to get the look of a bird trapped in a barn, Noah felt his own anxiety prickling at the back of his mind. He could practically see the tension in the air like a neon fog, unsaid words hanging all around them. He felt suffocated by it all- the sterile smell of the hospital, the sight of their mother, who only a year ago had felt so full of life as she held him like a child in the wake of a bad breakup, the weight of Charlotte''s unease and his father¡¯s heartbreak, not to mention his own emotions and growing confusion mounting in the past week. Nobody here can breathe. The thought struck him with a sudden urgency, and he put a gentle hand on his mothers shoulder, about to speak and then silenced by another one of those vivid memories he¡¯d been having as he visited his mom. The memories were strange though because they felt like her memories rather than his own. In this one, it was his grandmother telling someone, his mom he surmised, that when nothing else would work ¡®get in some water or get outside¡¯. It felt like his mom was showing him this on purpose somehow, if that was a thing someone in a medically induced coma could do- telling him to get Charlotte out of there¡­to get himself out of there. ¡°Charlotte, we need to go.¡± It came out all wrong, her his sister¡¯s brow furrowed in concern as his father¡¯s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. ¡°I mean we need to go walk Luna and Teddy,¡± he recovered, using the dogs as a convenient excuse to continue their previous conversation without involving their father. She still looked skeptical but he could see the fatigue etched on her face and hoped she¡¯d go along with it. ¡°They should be fine for a while,¡± their father started speaking, putting his own hand on his wife¡¯s cheek and seeming to get lost in looking at her. He sighed and shrugged a shoulder, making his way around the bed to take the seat next to her. ¡°She wouldn¡¯t want you two spending too much time in here when it¡¯s perfect fall weather out there anyway,¡± he said finally, pulling an old handheld video game out of the bag he had brought with him. ¡°Me and mom are just going to be trying to save the princess anyway, you won¡¯t miss anything.¡± Noah thought his dad was laying it on for Charlotte¡¯s sake as she still seemed somewhat reluctant to leave. And it must have worked because she finally nodded, a stubborn set to her mouth before she spoke. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. We¡¯ll bring back dinner.¡± Charlotte looked to be holding back tears as she leaned down and kissed her mother¡¯s cool cheek. ¡°See you in a little while Mama.¡± Noah thought he heard her whisper, as he and his dad exchanged claps on the arm on his way past. His sister looked pale, and seemed to almost stumble on her way out of the hospital room. Noah put an arm around her and the two silently navigated the small hospital. ¡°Thanks,¡± she finally murmured, almost inaudibly as the fresh autumn air hit her face. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± Charlotte shook her head, not finishing the thought, ¡°could I ride with you?¡± Because She Had Given Them Everything ¡°Do you remember Mom getting fired?¡± Noah¡¯s eyes stayed glued to the road, but Charlotte caught that familiar shifty look, the one he always gave when he was avoiding something. She thought it probably had to do with her outburst over the last question he had asked about their mother. Charlotte¡¯s unease mirrored her brother¡¯s. Despite her own tangled thoughts and emotions, the question brought back a vivid memory from her early childhood. She was laying on what felt like a big bed but couldn¡¯t have been larger than a queen, looking at her mother¡¯s scrunched face. Her mom had been crying. It was somewhere between sobbing and the type of crying where tears leak from the eyes with an apathy that¡¯s hard to explain. She¡¯d been crying too, curled into her mom. She remembered the fear that had come when her mother had cried. She remembered going into day care and telling the teacher that ¡°Mama was sad, her was crying in her bed.¡± Back to the memory on the bed, her own voice breaking, ¡°Mama what¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°Mama¡¯s scared honey and sad,¡± Charlotte felt herself almost whispering the words as the memory came to her. ¡°I lost my job, and I don¡¯t know when I¡¯ll find a new one. And it scares me because I want to take care of you and daddy and brother¡­¡± Charlotte froze, her eyes still on the passing trees, but her mind locked onto her brother¡¯s words. He was quoting the memory¡ªword for word. Her pulse quickened as they recited their mother¡¯s long-ago confession in unison. ¡°And I don¡¯t know who I am if I¡¯m not taking care of you,¡± she turned from the window and their eyes met before she scolded sharply, ¡°Noah! Watch the road!¡± Though she hadn¡¯t seen anything to make her worry about his driving, the truck swerved back and forth as he reacted to her yell. ¡°Shit,¡± he muttered, slowing down some as he straightened up his driving. ¡°What the hell¡­that was creepy.¡± Charlotte''s heart was racing faster than it ever did when she was on her motorcycle or competing in any sport. She tried to place a time where their mother had told them the story. She needed to get the surreal feeling of her brother seeing her own memories out of her head. ¡°Did she tell you about that?¡± As Charlotte processed what had just happened, her rational mind whispered doubts about the coincidence. However it was a traumatic memory, she supposed, that might make a difference. ¡°Not exactly,¡± Noah was saying, keeping his eyes on the road almost to an annoying level of dedication after her outburst. Little brothers could be so annoying. The car ride stretched in awkward silence, Noah¡¯s grip tightening on the steering wheel. When they finally reached the house, he stayed quiet, collapsing onto the couch without a word. Charlotte didn¡¯t remind him that they were supposed to walk the dogs, dropping to her knees on the soft carpet and accepting all of the doggy kisses the two mutts would give. Luna, the younger golden retriever mix, lasted longer, rolling onto her back for belly rubs as the chocolate lab jumped onto the couch to rest his graying muzzle on Noah¡¯s leg. ¡°Then you said ¡®Mama please don¡¯t cry.¡¯ and she told you she¡¯d try not to cry anymore.¡± ¡°It¡¯s why I asked about the drugs¡­well it¡¯s hard to explain but something¡¯s happening-¡± ¡°I think it happened to me,¡± Charlotte blurted out, interrupting him, ¡°when I kissed her goodbye. It was like someone started showing a flick in my brain.¡± Flicks were the most recent version of what had once been known by an unending amount of names for short video clips shared on social media platforms. Noah was nodding slowly because that was exactly what it was like. ¡°It was like she was showing it,¡± he corrected. ¡°Charlotte, it¡¯s been happening since last week. Different memories. They¡¯re all from her perspective¡ªor maybe from Mimi¡¯s, I¡¯m not sure. At first, I thought it was just stress, like my brain needed a break. But it feels so real.¡± Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Noah was filled with so much relief that it almost felt like things were okay. He absently pet Teddy as he watched Charlotte sit down on the other side of the old lab. ¡°That¡¯s why I asked before because there¡¯s that one and it felt like it was around the same time and it looked like we lived in this real shithole house¡­like plaster on the walls and floors were like plywood and it just had this feel to it.¡± He tried to find the words but was distracted by his sister¡¯s face. She looked amused and also still skeptical. She looked like she might be thinking she was dreaming or they were having some shared delusion. She looked a bit superior too, he thought as she spoke next. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you don¡¯t remember,¡± she shook her head, ¡°it¡¯s in a ton of the baby pictures too. That was our house when we were babies, like really little, because mom inherited it from an uncle or something and was living in it while she tried to flip it. Anyway,¡± she seemed to pick up on his impatience for her lecture, ¡±things got stalled for one reason or another with the last reason being when she lost that job.¡± Charlotte paused, petting the dogs on either side of her on the large couch. ¡°We had Scout and Princess back then too and another dog before you were born who I don¡¯t remember.¡± She caught her digression and shook her head just slightly. Noah thought it looked like she was trying to talk herself out of it and he steeled himself to convince her. ¡°It was one of the worst times of her life. She told me that before, she didn¡¯t talk about it a lot but I remember her telling me that she had two or three really bad run ins with depression and one was when she lost that job.¡± Charlotte was explaining, the look in her eyes threatening emotions that he knew she¡¯d been trying to keep on a tight leash. ¡°I felt it,¡± Noah added, wanting to encourage her and to keep her engaged. ¡°But you too¡­she showed you one too, what was it?¡± ¡°Showed me? Mom? I mean I don¡¯t know, maybe it was more like an intuition. She can¡¯t show anyone anything, Noh.¡± Charlotte had the stubborn look on her face that she always got when she dug her heels in, Noah could tell she was starting to talk herself out of what he knew she¡¯d experienced, ¡°It¡¯s crazy to think it was something paranormal.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not paranormal,¡± he explained with the patient measure he took with a new horse at the ranch he worked at part time. ¡°I mean I guess, but not in the way you¡¯re saying it. I don¡¯t know it could have to do with something science just hasn¡¯t explained yet, or like faith.¡± He was losing her, he could tell from her face. As patient as he was, he was too eager to talk about this all to let it go, however. Noah licked his bottom lip, chewing on where it had become chapped. ¡°Look,¡± he tried a softer and less insistent tone, ¡°just hear me out. I just need someone. I need my big sister. And if you think I¡¯m crazy at the end of it all, we don''t have to ever talk about it again and you can tell all your college friends about your psycho brother.¡± Noah pleaded with her with his eyes until she agreed. They decided to talk about it while they walked the dogs for a while and he explained what had been happening the best that he could. At first, he¡¯d had to stop and start the story over again to explain something he¡¯d forgotten but by the time they¡¯d gotten off of their tree lined property and to the street, he¡¯d found his footing. He told her about how the first memory had been his own and that he hadn¡¯t really thought anything of it. It had been a memory of his early days of kindergarten and their mom dropping him off. It wasn¡¯t until later, after another jarring memory, that he realized¡ªhe hadn¡¯t been himself in that moment. He¡¯d watched his own anxious, round face through the rectangular window of a classroom door, like he was seeing it all through their mother¡¯s eyes. The second memory had been of Charlotte, maybe 8 years old, watching her practice a back handspring over and over and over again in the backyard. He¡¯d felt such a strong surge of complex emotions- pride and sadness and joy. When she finally landed it, she ran into his arms excitedly. That was when the surreal jolt of it happened, and he realized he wasn¡¯t himself but their mother, it was her emotions he was feeling, her eyes watching Charlotte. He was absent from the memory altogether. ¡°You¡¯re in the beginning stages of disbelief,¡± he explained as they stopped for the dogs to sniff. Noah ignored her as she commented ¡°that¡¯s not a thing,¡± and continued. ¡°I felt the same way at first, I thought I was dreaming and fell asleep. I thought I was probably just remembering things that people told me or I saw in pictures. But I swear to you this is happening. It¡¯s real Charlotte. It¡¯s real and there¡¯s a reason. She¡¯s showing us stuff because she wants us to know something or do something. I can¡¯t explain it any better, I just know. I think if we were together on it we¡¯d figure it out faster but if you don¡¯t want to talk about it or you can¡¯t be open to it I get it. It sucks, but I get it.¡± He¡¯d laid it all out, it was up to her if she wanted to get invested. Noah¡¯s mind was made up though, he was going to figure out what their mom wanted from them and he would move heaven and earth to give it to her. Because she had given them everything. This Is Crazy The engine of the bike roared to life beneath her, rejuvenating her after a night spent sleeping curled on the edge of the hospital bed next to her mother. She blinked the tears out of her eyes again and opened up the throttle. The wind nearly drowned out the music in her helmet, but it couldn¡¯t quiet her racing thoughts. Charlotte had gone round in circles all week over what to do. She no longer held the same level of skepticism that had alienated Noah from her earlier on, but she still couldn¡¯t completely invest either. It felt like she was dreaming, or like she was failing to go through enough rational practices first, to rule out the practical before accepting the unbelievable. She focused on her senses in an attempt to bring her back to the here and now. She could see the pink sky of early dawn and the nearly empty road before her, just starting to awaken with early commuters. She could taste the sourness of stale coffee and unsuccessful attempts to wash it away with gum. She could hear the wind rushing around her, and faintly the sound of her music. She could smell the crispness that only came from early morning autumn air, beneath the toxically appealing smell of the bike''s exhaust. And she could feel the vibration beneath her, the air as she cut through it, the chill on her face, as the sun worked its way up, cutting her cheeks like tiny knives. The clarity of what she needed to do hit her just as sharply. She barely checked her mirror before making a drastic cut across lanes to merge onto the freeway. She needed to go north. Charlotte needed to talk to someone who knew her mother longer than she had. She couldn¡¯t bother her dad with it, and that didn¡¯t leave anyone in North Carolina. It didn¡¯t leave many people that she knew of anywhere. The options it did leave were not great. Her mother¡¯s only sibling, Uncle ¡°Cub,¡± was in a care home with early onset dementia. Apart from him she had two cousins who she¡¯d never really known. They were actually her mother¡¯s cousins and were both in their 60s. This is crazy, she nearly got off the exit and turned back, but how else am I ever going to figure this out. The thought of driving for six hours after a sleepless night felt absurd. Exhaustion mixed with adrenaline, and she couldn¡¯t stop a manic giggle from bubbling up. At least she had some time to figure out what she was going to say. To her relatives up north, but also to her father and brother who she¡¯d just all but abandoned. Charlotte to Noah and Dad: Hey don¡¯t want to worry you but I needed to head back to campus to tie up some things. Sorry for last min notice. Charlotte to Noah: Call me later. I¡¯m not going to campus. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. She sent the messages off in quick succession as she practically inhaled a sticky bun, chasing it with gas station coffee. Noah would understand, she knew it inherently, but she still felt guilty. Especially considering it was possibly a wild goose chase. As she rode, Charlotte tried to decide on where to stop first. She didn¡¯t want to just drop in on Jonah and Jeremy, and she didn¡¯t even know what she¡¯d say. "Hey, I know we haven¡¯t talked since Mimi¡¯s funeral five years ago. I guess you¡¯ve heard Mom¡¯s is next? Oh, and by the way, did your mom ever show you strange memories with her mind before she died?" She fought back the laugh this time, feeling like it might bring up bile with it. Charlotte had to get a hold of herself. She was on a dark train of thought, torn between abandoning this whole side quest to go find a library and just research her family in a way that made sense for answers. Of course, living relatives did make the most sense, and she was just being a coward. By the time she got to her mother¡¯s home town area she had mostly gotten herself under control and talked herself back into going through with things. She¡¯d sent messages to her cousin¡¯s, explaining she was in town and asking if they could grab dinner tonight or lunch the next day. She¡¯d gotten a pep talk from Noah, who was excitedly supportive of the whole idea, on the phone. His only real criticism was that she didn¡¯t tell him until she¡¯d already gone. Armed with his advice and support she made arrangements to bring her uncle lunch at the memory care facility. Popeyes felt like a good choice, simple and sure to be a hit from what she remembered of time with her Uncle Cub. The young man at the desk when she checked in seemed to agree, and she thought she¡¯d actually heard his stomach growl before he assured her. ¡°Bear¡¯s having a good day today. He¡¯s been excited since he heard you were coming.¡± The young man¡¯s voice was cheerful, but the sterile hallways felt cold as they walked. The smell of disinfectant clung to everything, making Charlotte¡¯s nerves buzz. ¡°He was going on and on about how you¡¯d always send him birthday messages and ask to go hunting with him.¡± Charlotte barely heard the man as he continued chatting on the way to find her uncle. ¡°He said he had the most beautiful niece ever too and warned just about everyone here not to get any ideas.¡± She tried to be polite as the guy laughed, but she wasn¡¯t really sure what he was going on about at that point. ¡°Anyway, he wasn¡¯t wrong, is all I¡¯m saying¡­¡± Charlotte gave a small smile before cutting him off, ¡°I actually see him there.¡± She headed off on her own giving a big smile as she held up the paper bag and soda cup for the older man to see. ¡°Hey, Uncle Cub!¡± She forced a bright smile, lifting the bag of Popeyes as if it were a peace offering. But seeing him sitting there, older and thinner than she remembered, her heart clenched. ¡°I hope you¡¯re hungry.¡± Jonah Never Should Have Made It Out Of That Lake "Mom was crazy. All this religious stuff mostly,¡± Bear said through a mouthful of sandwich, crumbs scattering on the table. He didn¡¯t seem to notice the irony of calling his mother crazy while sitting in the pristine garden of a psychiatric facility, ¡°but yeah ¨Cshe was crazy." The irony of his calling his mother crazy as they sat in the manicured backyard of an upscale psychiatric facility seemed to be lost on him. Charlotte hid her discomfort behind a long sip of tea, hoping to keep her expression neutral. She didn¡¯t want to risk putting Bear off from talking. Her mother had always described the man sitting across from her as contrary, but he¡¯d more or less always been sweet to her and Noah. ¡°I¡¯m glad I still have most of my teeth,¡± Bear said for the second or third time since she¡¯d been there. Charlotte just smiled and nodded, knowing that it was best not to remind memory loss patients that they were repeating themselves. ¡°That¡¯s when my dad stopped eating. He was a waste anyway. But always take care of your teeth.¡± ¡°I will Uncle Cub,¡± she promised, bringing him back to something he¡¯d lit on earlier. ¡°You said before that Mom and Mimi had a big fight in high school because of the crazy religious stuff?¡± He looked momentarily blank and she was worried she might be losing him, but she prodded a bit more. ¡°She told mom to go to hell?¡± Bear shook his head and waved a hand in the air as if to bat the statement away. ¡°She didn¡¯t tell her to go to hell, she said she was going to hell if she used it. Mom said it killed her sisters and Anne.¡± He sounded disgusted, like the teen he may have been at the time he¡¯d witnessed this. ¡°Rissa was crazy too. She wanted to be special so bad they were in this like shared delusion. Like she thought she could do stuff, like she was a witch or something.¡± Bear laughed without humor and took another bite. ¡°Could she have been?¡± Charlotte posed the question as innocently as she could and received a scathing look. I thought you were smarter than that, the look said. ¡°I mean, of course not,¡± she amended, ¡°but why do you think, I mean apart from wanting to be special, why might she have bought into that?¡± ¡°Who knows¡ªFrig off Alice!¡± Bear aimed a middle finger at an elderly woman who was preparing to sidle up next to Charlotte. ¡°Crazy bitches everywhere¡­¡± he shook his head and took a drink. ¡°Glad I still have most of my teeth,¡± he was muttering again. She¡¯d been momentarily sidetracked by the attempted intrusion and her uncle¡¯s outburst and was trying to collect her thoughts again to decide which way to steer the conversation. ¡°She¡¯s trapped you know,¡± he said then, drawing her attention back, ¡°trying to do shit she has no business with. Now she¡¯s got herself stuck and she¡¯s not coming back.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± Charlotte asked with a bit too much eagerness. ¡°Mom? What didn¡¯t she have business with?¡± Bear looked confused but she refused to let her hopes sink from where they had risen to. ¡°You said mom was trapped? That she got herself stuck because of stuff she had no business with?¡± Her tone was insistent and she knew she was on the verge of losing him again, but this sounded too promising. He was shaking his head and Charlotte tried to soften her own anxious features. She reached out to reassure him, but as soon as their hands touched, a jolt of energy surged through her. Her vision blurred, the garden around her dissolved, and she was pulled into another place, another time¡­ If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. It was like electricity this time, not like the easy flashes she¡¯d had from her mother in the hospital the past week. Those, it had been easy to wonder if it was her own mind¡¯s creation. There was no way of knowing what her subconscious knew, afterall, and no way to prove that her dreams were shared or if that was just what she wanted to believe. When she saw her uncle¡¯s memory, it was like an electric surge had fused her hand to him. She was in a room she didn¡¯t recognize, with a distinctly teenage boy aesthetic¨Cand aroma. There was yelling from downstairs, it was loud enough that even though there was music blaring in the room, it could still be heard. Next were slamming doors and suddenly she was getting up, turning the CD player off and slamming the door before stomping downstairs to put an end to it. She could feel the anxiety and irritation boiling over from her uncle in the memory, and fear too, she thought. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to have it. I just didn¡¯t want it anymore. I want anyone else to get hurt because of this. I want to see you again in heaven.¡± Mimi was crying, she was younger but still looked like the woman Charlotte had grown up around. Her mother looked startlingly like herself in the memory. Aside from the almost over the top 90s getup, a flannel hugging her hips and her cut off T-shirt showing a waist thinner than her mother had ever let onto being. ¡°Riss, she¡¯s crazy just leave her alone!¡± Her uncle shouted at the two of them, but the women ignored him. ¡°Barb¡¯s cancer¡ªthat was the tax. The fire¡­it took Anne and her father. Nancy lived just long enough to understand before her lungs gave up. Playing God isn¡¯t a gift, Clarissa. It doesn¡¯t help¡ªit only takes.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t know that!¡± Her mother argued back shrilly in her teenage voice. She¡¯s younger than me, Clarissa realized. The scene didn¡¯t make any more sense to her than it did to her uncle who was shaking his head in the memory. ¡°You¡¯re both crazy.¡± There was a feeling beneath the surface that Charlotte was picking up on. She tried to focus on it, to figure out what it meant but her grandmother¡¯s words from inside the house caught her attention as her uncle was walking away. ¡°Jonah wasn¡¯t supposed to make it out of that lake.¡± Charlotte wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d heard the words right, but the memory was already slipping away. Her uncle was heading toward his truck, the weight of his words hanging over her. Charlotte was still feeling the frustration of having no control over any of it when she realized that she wasn¡¯t looking at the steering wheel in the old Ford pickup anymore but at a very alarmed Uncle Cub. At first she thought he still looked lucid, though somewhat bewildered. She thought he looked like a deer that knows the hunter¡¯s got him, but isn¡¯t sure exactly where the danger is. He gave her hand a ginger pat but very obviously did not want her touching him any more. He was starting to stand up. ¡°Look miss,¡± he was saying, ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a part of no research or college in high school now.¡± Charlotte thought he was pretending not to know her rather than actually experiencing an episode, but it was drawing the attention of the staff regardless and she knew their time was up. ¡°What happened to Jonah?¡± she asked, her voice shaking now. Bear¡¯s face darkened, his eyes narrowing as if weighing whether to answer. She got the impression that he wasn¡¯t entirely sure where, or when, he was now. Finally, he stepped back, whispering, ¡°Jonah... never should have made it out of that lake.¡± It Was A Miracle Charlotte sat in the guest room at her cousin Jonah¡¯s house, having agreed to stay with him after dinner rather than a motel. It had been his son¡¯s room at one point and still had a subtle masculine energy to it that she couldn¡¯t quite nail down. She knew that she should be dead on her feet, but her mind was still reeling from the rollercoaster of a day she¡¯d had. Charlotte couldn¡¯t drive after what happened at the old Victorian house turned memory care facility. She¡¯d walked around for a bit before calling and debriefing Noah on the whole experience while it was fresh in her mind. She kept looking at her hand, half expecting sparks to shoot out from her fingertips. Together they worked out a few talking points for dinner with Jeremy and Jonah and their spouses, trying to come up with ways to keep things light. Noah grounded her, and by the time she¡¯d gotten to the restaurant, she felt almost calm. She was pretty sure that she¡¯d managed to keep things light. Charlotte and Noah had come up with the story that they were working on putting together their family tree and wanted to come up with a biography for their grandmother. So when she asked questions that might have seemed strange, it gave a reason for her curiosity. By the end, she¡¯d managed to slip into the conversation, in an almost off-handed way, ¡°oh yeah, Uncle Cub said something about Jonah getting in trouble at the lake? He was having an off day though so the story was hard to follow.¡± It turned out that when he was six and Jeremy was nine, they¡¯d been camping at Lake Erie and had been by themselves at the beach. This part of the story had branched into a light hearted digression about how different and hands off it was raising kids in the 70s. The boys had swum out to a big rock about 50 yards from shore and were playing and climbing on it. They¡¯d done this plenty of times before, though never without any adults nearby. As they¡¯d been playing, the sky had darkened and the waves had gotten cruel. Jeremy had tried to swim both of them back to the beach but had to go back several times for Jonah before he finally sat in disbelief on the wet sand, frantically scanning the waves for him. He said he couldn¡¯t explain where she had come from, but his cousin Anne had swum out of the choppy lake water like a one armed mermaid, Jonah on her back. He¡¯d run for the adults as Anne gave CPR to Jonah. ¡°It was a miracle,¡± the men had both said, but Charlotte wondered. She laid back heavily on the bed and stared up at the ceiling fan. ¡°Anne saved Jonah in ¡®78 but died in a fire that killed her mom and dad too,¡± she said aloud. She wished that she had remembered to pick up a notebook and pen when she¡¯d stopped at the store. She could use her phone, but Charlotte didn¡¯t get the same satisfaction of taking notes unless she did it the old fashioned way, on a laptop or with pen and paper. ¡°Aunt Barb got cancer, is that related?¡± She asked herself, ¡°How did saving Jonah give his mom cancer and kill Anne¡¯s whole family? Mom, what were you mixed up in?¡± Noah hadn¡¯t responded after she¡¯d given him as much a recap as she could over text message. She guessed he was at the hospital and felt another pang of guilt and homesickness for their life together. She tried to conjure up good memories of growing up rather than imagining them all in the sterile hospital room. What came to mind was a trip they¡¯d taken as a family just before she¡¯d started high school. She was nervous about starting cheerleading, and had wanted to go to a cheer camp during her summer vacation, but her parents hadn¡¯t given in. They¡¯d planned a family trip and weren¡¯t willing to allow her to skip it. Adding insult to injury, instead of driving east toward a beach like any normal family, but on a roadtrip to Charlotte laughed, remembering her dad making up a cheer for her to practice in the car, though at the time she¡¯d been sulky and hadn¡¯t found it remotely amusing. By the time they¡¯d gotten to the Craggy Gardens however, it was impossible to keep a frown on her face. She¡¯d been struck by the beauty of it all, and Noah had been so happy and full of life, his laughter infectious. That night she dreamt of their trip - getting caught in the thunderstorm just after hiking to Linville Falls. They¡¯d been soaking wet when they got back to the van, and though her mood had started to sour, Noah had brought her back with his impressions of a TV weatherman caught in a storm. When she woke up, she¡¯d been dreaming of another stop along their weeklong road trip. They¡¯d been on Beale Street in Memphis and had stopped to see the screaming goats outside of an Irish bar. She and Noah were watching the goats as her mom told her dad about some old store that sold strange potions. No sooner had she thought of the name, ¡°Schwabs¡± she thought, than the dream shifted to them in the store but it was also some kind of restaurant. Charlotte was awed by the place, it had a magical feel to it and smelled so good, like something perfumey, coffee, and a warm attic all at once. She and Noah had barely been able to stop to look at anything for more than a second before seeing something else and darting off to have a better look. She¡¯d found a Hoodoo section with all sorts of candles and incense for everything from bringing in money or love to removing jinxes. Her mom was in an animated discussion with a woman she didn¡¯t recognize, possibly an argument. She didn¡¯t remember noticing that when it had happened, but when she awoke with it fresh in her mind she tried to remember if it had really happened and if there was any more to it. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Noah didn¡¯t remember either, when she called him as she packed up the meager items she¡¯d bought at the store before dinner yesterday, but he promised to try and find out more. More frustrated than before, she pocketed her phone and stuffed the deodorant into the shopping bag. She took one last look around the room, making sure she didn¡¯t leave anything and her eye caught on something she hadn¡¯t consciously noticed the night before. On the floor, practically under the dresser, she spotted something that caught the light. It was an oval silver locket with a faint patina on the surface, it looked ancient. Its edges were gracefully contoured and adorned with intricate scrollwork that echoed the swirling patterns of Irish artistry. Celtic knots intertwined around its perimeter, a nod to the rich cultural heritage from which it hailed. Upon closer inspection, Charlotte noticed the locket''s hinge¡ªa marvel of artisan craftsmanship¡ªperfectly intact, allowing it to open with a satisfying click. Inside, the aged but resilient silk lining told tales of the past, its edges soft and slightly frayed, reminiscent of the passages of time. It had cradled many a cherished memory, including a small, sepia-toned photograph of the young bride on her wedding day, her face beaming with a mixture of excitement and hope. This photograph, while showing the wear of years, preserved her essence: the laughter in her eyes and the innocence of new beginnings. The locket seemed to be in good shape for its apparent age. Charlotte imagined it held the whispers of many women¡ªdaughters, mothers, and grandmothers¡ªwhose stories had intertwined, each unlocking its contents when they sought solace or remembrance. The weight of the locket, though insignificant, felt much heavier than its physical form as it seemed to bear the emotional weight of countless memories. She imagined it, throughout the years ¨C occasionally touched and admired, fingers brushing its surface as it elicited smiles and sighs filled with longing for days gone by. It was more than just a piece of jewelry; it was a tangible connection to the past, a bridge across generations, carrying with it the unspoken stories of the women who had clasped it around their necks, ever cherished, ever remembered. As it finally lay in the hands of another¡ªa descendant, perhaps, eager to learn the tales of their lineage¡ªCharlotte thought that it would speak the language of love through the delicate heart engraved within its design, the legacy of a mother¡¯s love forever encased in silver and cherished by those who came after. She moved toward the mirror, curious to see how the locket would look around her neck¡ªbut as she reached it, the door and mirror were suddenly gone. In an instant, the walls of the room disappeared. She was no longer inside the house. She stood outside, surrounded by strangers, on a property she¡¯d never seen before. The world around her was vibrant¡ªtoo vibrant. The wildflowers swayed, and the scent of freshly cut grass overwhelmed her senses, making the shift feel jarring and disorienting. Charlotte¡¯s nostrils were assaulted with the fragrance of wildflowers and freshly cut grass. She was now among a crowd of finely, if somewhat old fashioned, dressed people, all focused on a wedding ceremony unfolding before her. But this wasn¡¯t like what she¡¯d experienced yesterday with her uncle¡ªshe wasn¡¯t just a spectator. This time, she was there, she was herself. The warm breeze ruffled her hair, and she could hear the murmur of voices. ¡°No,¡± she breathed harshly. People were shushing and turning to stare at her, another jarring reminder that this wasn¡¯t the same as what Noah had explained. And it wasn¡¯t like what had happened to her either. A chill ran down her spine. The smell of honeysuckles was so thick she thought she might choke on it. This was not a memory. Panic surged through her veins. ¡°Gabh mo leithsc¨¦al, a chail¨ªn. An bhfuil t¨² ceart go leor?¡± She thought he¡¯d asked, or maybe he¡¯d asked if she was alright but just had a thick accent. Something distinctly too much was happening though, and she didn¡¯t want any part of it. ¡°Nope. No no no,¡± without thinking, she turned to flee, only to be jolted back into the present, crashing into the dresser with a sharp thud. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized she was once again standing in the bedroom, the locket still clutched tightly in her hand. She tossed the locket onto its surface and backed up until she hit the edge of the bed and sat down. Charlotte scanned the room, her pulse still racing. Everything seemed normal, but her hands were trembling. Was that the locket¡¯s memory? she wondered. But it felt too real, like she had been transported there, not just watching. And people had reacted to her. Wherever ¡®there¡¯ was, she hadn¡¯t just seen it¡ªshe¡¯d felt it. The weight of the experience settled on her chest, and a wave of dizziness hit her. She needed to leave. Quickly, she wrapped the locket in a sock and shoved it into her bag. Whatever had just happened, she wasn¡¯t ready to deal with it here. I Am Not Going Anywhere ¡°I know you wouldn¡¯t want him here snoring all night,¡± Noah murmured, sitting by his mother¡¯s bedside. ¡°I¡¯m trying to take care of them... like you would have.¡± He sighed, the weight of her silence pressing down on him. He squeezed her hand, hoping she could sense his words even if she couldn¡¯t respond. After a minute he took her hand, anticipating the energy that had accompanied the memories, sometimes subtle and other times like a jolt. It didn¡¯t come and he found himself feeling a little disappointed. ¡°I know you¡¯ve been trying to tell me something, I¡¯m sorry it¡¯s taking me so long to figure it out. I¡¯ll get it though. I won¡¯t give up if you don¡¯t.¡± Noah squeezed her hand, then pulled out his phone. ¡°Charlotte sent me another message. Let me read it to you.¡± Guilt pricked at him for not responding, but he hadn¡¯t known what to say, and it felt wrong to call while his Dad was still there. She was probably asleep now, he thought. Remember I told you about Uncle Cub earlier? Well, Charlotte figured out what he meant about Jonah. Here¡¯s what she said: ¡®Jonah drowned in ¡¯78. Anne¡ªour cousin who died before we were born¡ªsomehow saved him. She showed up out of nowhere. Nobody knows how she heard Jer yelling or how she got down from the cliff so quickly, but she shows up and rescues him. Mimi thought that caused Aunt Barb¡¯s cancer and the fire that killed Anne et. al. which is why she said whatever they were doing was evil. Idk maybe the memory thing had something to do with it? Something isn¡¯t sitting right with me though about it all. Talk soon or see ya tomorrow.¡± The room felt ominous, as if his mother¡¯s energy was causing a fog to make everything feel heavy with sadness and bitter regret. He expected the jolt when he placed a hand on his mother¡¯s arm and wasn¡¯t surprised to find himself in her memories once more. While it had made him uneasy at first, he was starting to feel at home and found that when he was accepting of it, the whole experience was less jarring. Like before, the hospital room melted away and he found himself peeking through the railings on a staircase down to where several adults were arguing below. It was her grandmother¡¯s house, Noah knew somehow and the women arguing were his grandmother and her sisters, seemingly presided over by his great grandmother. ¡°He¡¯s fine Aunt Barb,¡± Anne was insisting, ¡°we actually did it this time. He won¡¯t die again.¡± Noah was filled with a child¡¯s fear and wonder. ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± Aunt Nancy said softly as Mimi, had clearly had enough and was already working up to a shout. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter!¡± Her voice rang through the kitchen, drowning out those of her sisters and her niece. ¡°Ma told you it wasn¡¯t allowed. That it was a bad idea.¡± Noah noticed the look of disapproval on the older woman''s face, but he wasn¡¯t sure if it was because she agreed with his grandmother or not. ¡°What might you have done? What about Anne? What about the children?¡± She was quieting in volume, as if remembering that there were children in the house, but her passion was resolute. Barbara let out a loud sob, ¡°Jonah is my child Miranda.¡± This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Though her face faltered, Mimi doubled down on her sternness. ¡°And God was calling him home. Who knows what you¡¯ve done. If this thing is a gift, we should return it to sender, because it¡¯s not from Him. If we use this again it needs to be to get rid of it. Maybe if we destroy that locket.¡± She turned an accusing face at the youngest woman who was fingering the silver pendant at her clavicle. ¡°Now that¡¯s enough,¡± said a weary voice which hadn¡¯t spoken yet. His great grandmother was getting to her feet. ¡°Miranda, the locket is not the cause of the gift, and if you don¡¯t want it you can simply decide that you don¡¯t want it and not use it again. I don''t think Linda has had any trouble with that method, though she doesn¡¯t have a daughter.¡± The last part of the sentence added as an afterthought, but he felt the excitement his mother had at hearing it. ¡°Anne, it was dangerous what you did but it does seem to have worked. For now¨CBarbie, stop crying and enjoy what you have while you have it.¡± She¡¯d started off sounding tired but she spoke with authority, even sharpness as she scolded her second-born. All of the women seemed to lose the fire they¡¯d had when the memory started. ¡°What¡¯s done is done,¡± she told them, ¡°and you will have a tax. I don¡¯t know what and I don¡¯t know when but it will be proportional to the change you made. I would caution you to accept it gracefully when it comes or it¡¯s likely to end even worse.¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad Jonah is okay,¡± she said in a softer voice as she put a hand on Barbara¡¯s back, ¡°but I don¡¯t think you should use the gift anymore either. Don¡¯t you think I¡¯ve learned things? It doesn¡¯t seem to try to show you, but you do find things out if, especially if you pry. I¡¯ve wanted to stop things too. It¡¯s hard enough to raise a family let alone with something this special to share. Now it¡¯s Anne¡¯s time, and she can pass the gift down to her daughter. Hopefully her tax for her part won¡¯t be too great.¡± She held up a hand to Mimi, ¡°you do not get to decide for anyone but yourself and maybe Clarissa.¡± The memory faded and he was no longer clinging to the bars on the staircase but to his mother¡¯s arm. Noah was shocked to find tears in his eyes, though he wasn¡¯t entirely sure who he was crying for. He wondered if he was crying simply because his mother couldn¡¯t. Her lost family, her struggles with her mother over what everyone but Mimi and maybe Aunt Linda had known was a gift. ¡°Mom,¡± he whispered softly, ¡°thank you for sharing that.¡± Thank you for sharing that. Was something she¡¯d said to him many times over the years. He wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d said it back enough, but it felt appropriate now. He didn¡¯t let go of her hand to text Charlotte, feeling that he could work through it with her tomorrow. Now was time to be with his mother, to comfort her. He rubbed her arm for a while, whispering what he hoped were soothing words. Are you paying a tax? He wondered to himself but didn¡¯t dare speak or even think it too loudly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry mama,¡± he whispered instead, suddenly feeling exhaustion even at keeping his eyes open, ¡°I am not going anywhere.¡± Noah closed his eyes, exhaustion weighing him down. But in the back of his mind, something felt off¡ªlike time was slipping away. Every Second Counts Noah wasn¡¯t sure when he¡¯d fallen asleep, or when he¡¯d moved out of the chair next to his mother¡¯s bed. Which was probably why he felt disoriented as the sunlight shined on the back of his eyelids and he felt a humid breeze on his face. He wasn¡¯t surprised to find that he wasn¡¯t in his bed though, he was on a bench. In his early morning fatigue and confusion he thought at first that he had been sleepwalking and somehow got out of the hospital to a bench out front. Sleepwalking was something he and his mother had in common. But this wasn¡¯t sleepwalking, that felt wrong. Noah rubbed his eyes until black and white spirals danced behind his lids. When he blinked again, sunlight flooded his vision. He looked at his hands¡ªhis own, not a woman''s. This wasn¡¯t a memory. The warm humidity which was off for October. Noah looked around the street he was on, which while familiar was definitely not near home. ¡°I¡¯m dreaming,¡± Noah thought aloud, standing and testing the dream logic by jumping¡ªnothing. Lucid dreaming was something he¡¯d inherited from his mother. Normally, once he realized he was dreaming, he could control it. But not this time. He couldn¡¯t even make himself fly. He also noted that he was able to read the signs on the stores along the street, something he usually couldn¡¯t do in his dreams. He saw his reflection in a store window, he looked like his clothes had never been washed and he hadn¡¯t been acquainted with a shower in some time. He still looked like himself, recognizable, but with something different, apart from the layer of dirt and reddish stubble, that he couldn¡¯t quite place. A flicker of color on his peripheral vision caught his eye and he turned to see a woman walking down the street on the other side. There was something familiar to her, and he rushed across the street after her. She was looking through the windows of stores, clearly looking for something, or someone, he thought. Suddenly it hit him as he read the white words above the store she¡¯d gone into, A. SCHWAB. This was Memphis. He was on Beale Street. They¡¯d come here after Enid Lake, a few years ago. He and Charlotte had dubbed the trip ¡°Dad¡¯s Great Circle Road Trip.¡± They¡¯d traveled from home in Apex to Atlanta to New Orleans to Enid Lake to Memphis to Nashville and finally back home over the course of a week or so one summer. The whole thing took forever and he remembered feeling so restless in the van and squabbling with Charlotte just for something to do when watching videos on his tablet hadn¡¯t cut it. Had it been six or seven years ago? It might as well have been a lifetime to Noah. He¡¯d been a kid, not even able to grow a single facial hair. Catching his reflection in the mirror again he wondered why he didn¡¯t look like himself if this was a dream. He¡¯d never dreamt of himself as some sort of vagrant or whatever this was. ¡°Woah,¡± he said to himself when he entered the store. It was so surreal, it felt extremely vivid, and he watched himself as a kid showing his dad joke toy after joke toy. He wondered if he¡¯d conjured them, thinking about the trip, but his attention was called to the woman he¡¯d followed in. She was going up the steps however, and he felt compelled not to lose sight of her for too long. By the time he got up the steps, he noticed first his sister, looking at some candles, but across the room the woman he¡¯d followed had cornered - ¡°Mom.¡± Every instinct screamed at Noah to run to her, to throw his arms around his mother. But something held him back. Fear gnawed at him¡ªwhat if she saw him? What if acknowledging him broke whatever spell he was in? His pulse quickened, heart pounding in his chest. He wasn¡¯t supposed to be here. This version of him wasn¡¯t supposed to exist at this moment. Afterall, he was already downstairs, the boy that this woman would know. Noah suddenly felt afraid of being seen by her and he grabbed a big top hat off of a rack nearby. He tried it on and kept his back mostly to the women as he tried to get near enough to hear what was happening. ¡°I have a family now,¡± his mother was saying to the woman. She seemed familiar enough with her to not be bothered talking to her too much, though her eyes were sharply darting back to Charlotte every few seconds. ¡°I can¡¯t just disappear. What happens if I get stuck? What if I can¡¯t come back?¡± Noah¡¯s mother¡¯s voice wavered. ¡°I won¡¯t risk leaving them like this. They need me here.¡± The other woman¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°You¡¯re wasting time. Every second counts¡ªif you don¡¯t act now, it might be too late. Just slip away, say you need a break. You¡¯ll be back before they even notice.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry but no,¡± his mother said firmly, ¡°you need to leave now. I haven¡¯t talked to her about it.¡± ¡°Well you need to talk to them,¡± she muttered bitterly as Noah tried to sneak a glimpse at her. ¡°It¡¯ll all fall on them once we¡¯re gone if we can¡¯t change things.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. There was something about her that just felt off. She looked familiar and had a strange sound to her voice that was almost the hint of an accent he couldn¡¯t quite trace. Noah wondered if their conversation had something to do with the memories or possibly with his cousin¡¯s drowning and whatever ¡°the tax¡± was. Mom, are you showing me this dream? He wondered, giving himself another reason for being here. ¡°Why will none of you do something?¡± The woman spat in disgust. He¡¯d gotten distracted and missed part of the conversation but the woman was clearly upset now. She actually stamped her foot as she said it. ¡°Because that¡¯s not our place.¡± His mother replied back calmly if somewhat cool in her body language. There was a tone of sadness, or maybe sympathy to her voice too. ¡°I¡¯ll find you when I can get away,¡± she said, ¡°I don¡¯t know when. Please don¡¯t try to convince me again. I¡¯ve got to go.¡± He knocked over a display as he tried to hurriedly move out of the field of vision of either woman. By the time he¡¯d picked things up, he noticed a young employee at the store frowning at him. ¡°If you aren¡¯t going to buy anything,¡± taking the hat from his head, speaking tersely, she ordered, ¡°you need to leave.¡± Noah trailed his family, barely able to tear his eyes from his mother, who was so alive, so vibrant. He was so lost in watching her that he barely questioned the strangeness of knowing on some level that he knew this was not a dream. He had to wait outside as the family visited the Blues Hall of Fame, unable to come up with any sort of cash to pay the entrance fee. He pulled out a somewhat crumpled piece of paper that had been folded. He felt a sharp sting on his finger as he unfolded it. ¡°Shit,¡± he muttered, almost wiping the bead of blood from his finger onto his grimy jeans. I really need to find somewhere to wash my hands. Noah thought idly as he finally read the paper. It was a permit to busk in the city of Memphis. Was this the dream''s way of giving him a reason to be here for his family''s vacation? Noah pulled a harmonica from his pocket, feeling its weight in his hand. He¡¯d never played one before, not seriously. But as soon as he pressed it to his lips, the notes flowed like second nature. Somehow, he just... knew. His fingers moved with confidence, playing tunes he couldn¡¯t name. This wasn¡¯t just sleepwalking. Something was wrong. The papercut stung, the harmonica felt too real, and he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this was more than a dream. His family headed into a diner called Arcade Restaurant, where he followed them. He was starving and felt grateful to the dream or his mother or whatever power was controlling this experience for the busking money to buy a sandwich and coffee. Though he felt as if he was mostly in control, similar to as if he¡¯d been brought somewhere by a friend or his family, but once there he could do whatever he wanted. All he wanted though, was to watch the family, his family, particularly his mother and enjoy the reminder of a particularly good day. Nothing particularly eventful happened as he watched the family. He simply enjoyed seeing them and avoided their glances when he felt their eyes on him. He pretended to need to tie his shoe as they got up to leave, but quickly rose to follow after them. Noah dropped all of his busking money on the table and rushed out the front door. Instead of finding himself looking at Main street and Patterson though, he was again looking at the artificial fluorescent lighting of a hospital room. His mother was no longer looking youthful and full of life. She¡¯d been robbed of that once more. Noah blinked at his father who was looking at him with a strange expression in his face. "Jesus, Noah,¡± his father said, voice low, heavy with exhaustion. ¡°Where were you? You promised to sit with her. If I¡¯d known...¡± His voice cracked, and he sighed, shaking his head. ¡°I would¡¯ve stayed." "I was... sleepwalking,¡± Noah said, the lie slipping out before he could think of anything better. But it didn¡¯t sit right. None of it did. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Dad. Really.¡± His father eyed him for a moment, the disbelief clear, but he looked too tired to argue. ¡°School called... said you weren¡¯t there. The nurses haven¡¯t seen you since last night either.¡± He looked away, rubbing his eyes. ¡°I need a coffee. Just... stay here, okay?¡± Noah nodded, mumbling another apology, as his father passed him in on his way out the door but his mind was elsewhere. The vividness of the harmonica still lingered on his fingers, the sensation of playing as real as the air he was breathing now. He checked his pockets¡ªa wallet, his phone, the usual. No harmonica. His stomach twisted. He pumped the hand sanitizer station on the wall, as if it would cleanse his guilt for abandoning his mother. Then, he felt a stinging sensation in his finger. He glanced down¡ªthere, on his index finger, was a thin papercut, just where it had been a few hours ago. He hadn¡¯t noticed it before. Noah stared at it, his heart pounding in his chest. Was it a dream? Noah rubbed his fingers together, the sting pulling him back to reality. But was this reality? He glanced at his mother¡¯s still form. How much more was she hiding from him? He sat down next to the bed and whispered desperately under his breath, ¡°Mom... What are you trying to show me? Did that happen?¡± But the only response was the rhythmic beeping of the machines, steady and unrelenting. And yet... Noah couldn''t shake the feeling again, that time was slipping through his fingers.