The Girl Who Borrowed Time

In the silence of the café, the ticking of the pocket watch sounded like a grenade pin. Ivy's mug was halfway to her lips when she froze. "Have you heard that?"

I looked at the watch and nodded. Once inactive, its gears now whirled languidly. Its edge had a faint glow from a hairline break, a seam of light the hue of long-forgotten memories.

I saw a flicker of Liam's face. In response, Ivy responded, "Not yet." However, I was irritated by the way he had hovered at the door, perhaps testing the waters of the living like a ghost.

After Three Days

Dawn was the time of the first oddity. Our usual customer, Mrs. Patel, who typically ordered chamomile, came in and requested a double espresso. "When did you start consuming caffeine?" I inquired.

She blinked. "Since... always?"

However, the history of receipts indicated otherwise. Five additional consumers defied their own trends by midday. A small but growing fissure in the timeline.

Ivy showed up as I was cleaning the counter. "Isn't it happening again?" Liam was standing in front of a mirror that reflected nothing when she passed a Polaroid across the table.

"He is fluttering," she remarked. "When he's present, then... not." As if he's not quite grounded.

Once, the watch chimed.

The Clock Tower at Midnight

The pedestal was cold beneath my hands as we stood in the chamber. The Polaroid was held up by Ivy. "The merger fixed more than simply time. We became part of it. The glue is us. And we're unravelling.

Above the pedestal, a holographic web—a timeline map—flitted. Glowing nodes snapped out of existence as strands frayed at the edges. Liam's face was the only node that pulsed crimson.

"He is paradoxical," I remarked. Though never meant to be, alive. He is being rejected by the timeline.

Ivy's tone became stern. "So we make it right. appropriately.

"How? The last time we—

We followed the Warden's regulations the last time. However, he is no longer there. This implies that we now set the rules.

She touched the pedestal with her palm. Light seeped into the chamber as the breach in the watch widened.

The Break

We entered a corridor lined with mirrors, each of which reflected a distinct image of Liam. A boy on a swing set, laughing. A teenager crying over a grave. A man holding the watch in a lab coat.

Ivy said, "These are his could-have-beens." "Time has erased paths."

The Liam we knew, half-real and bewildered, was at the end. He looked into Ivy's eyes. "Am I familiar with you?"

She said, "You did." "You'll."

She took hold of his hand. The mirrors broke.

The Option

The history web blazed red back in the tower. Liam's palm was placed against the pedestal by Ivy. We secure him. Indefinitely.

"How?"

"By giving up a thread." She indicated Elara's Accident as a node. "Your history. or my.

The watch shook. One of us would disappear from history—no recollection, no evidence—to anchor Liam. An unwritten life.

Liam withdrew. "I will not permit you to."

Ivy gave a sour laugh. "You are not eligible to vote. Not now.

The light from the watch divided into two beams, one of which was grabbing hold of Ivy and the other of me.

Cliffhanger:

The tower trembled. Ivy's image in the mirrors started to dim. Liam called out her name.

I held onto the watch. "Stop!"

It's too late.

From the darkness came a voice we hadn't heard in months:

"You didn't anticipate it being that simple, did you?"

With his weapon shining, the Warden moved into the light.

"Debts are always collected by time."

THE END