The Last Message

Chapter 1: The Notification

On a rain-slicked Tuesday evening, Clara Hartman stared at her phone, her breath catching. The screen glowed with a name she hadn’t seen in a year: Ethan Cole. The last person to text him had been Clara herself, the night he died.

"Clara, don’t go home. 9:14 PM. Trust me."

The message timestamp read TODAY.

Clara’s hands trembled. Ethan had drowned in Silver Lake exactly 365 days ago. The police had found his waterlogged phone in his car. No body, just a shoe and a wallet. Suicide, they’d ruled. But Clara never believed it.

She dialed his number. It rang once before going to voicemail. "You’ve reached Ethan. Leave a message, and maybe I’ll surprise you." His voice, playful and warm, twisted her stomach.

Outside, thunder growled. Clara glanced at the clock: 8:57 PM. She lived 20 minutes away.


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Chapter 2: The First Clue

Clara drove through the storm, her wipers slashing at the downpour. Ethan’s apartment building loomed ahead, its windows dark except for his third-floor unit. A flicker of movement—a shadow pacing behind the blinds.

The super let her in after she lied about "checking for leaks." The door to 3B was unlocked. Inside, dust coated everything except a single path to the desk. A laptop sat open, its screen bright.

Password Hint: Our song.

Clara typed "Blackbird"—the Beatles track Ethan had sung to her at karaoke on their first date. The desktop loaded. A folder labeled "For Clara" contained a video.

Ethan’s face filled the screen. He looked gaunt, frantic. "If you’re seeing this, I messed up. They’re using Chronos to manipulate time. The ‘suicide’—it’s a cover. Don’t let them—" The video cut to static.

A noise came from the bedroom. Clara froze.


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Chapter 3: The Hidden Thread

In the bedroom, a corkboard hung on the wall, strung with red yarn. Newspaper clippings, photos, and a logo: Chronos Technologies. A startup Ethan had mentioned before his death. "Time is the next frontier," he’d said.

A photo showed Ethan with Dr. Lena Voss, Chronos’s CEO. Clara recognized her from a Forbes article—"The Woman Who Could Crack Time Travel."

Beneath the board sat a journal. Pages were torn out, but one entry remained:

"Phase 3 successful. Sent a 30-second burst to 2022. But the ripple… it’s not stable. They’re deleting the data. Lena won’t listen."

Clara’s phone buzzed. Another text from Ethan: "Check the lake. 9:14."

It was 9:12 PM.


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Chapter 4: The Ripple

Clara sped to Silver Lake, her headlights carving through the storm. At the shore, she stumbled toward the dock, phone flashlight raised.

Something glinted underwater. She plunged her arm in, grasping cold metal—a Chronos-branded hard drive.

9:14 PM.

The lake erupted in a surge of light. Clara shielded her eyes as the water… rewound. A figure emerged, walking backward out of the waves. Ethan.

He turned, meeting her eyes. "Clara, you have to—"

A gunshot cracked. Ethan collapsed. The vision dissolved.

Behind Clara, a voice hissed, "You weren’t supposed to see that."

Dr. Lena Voss stood there, a pistol aimed at Clara’s chest. "Time isn’t a toy, Ms. Hartman. But you’ll learn that too late."


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Epilogue: The Loop

Clara woke in a white room, IV lines snaking from her arms. A nurse smiled. "You’re safe. You drowned trying to save someone last night."

"Last night?" Clara croaked.

"April 12th. You’ve been in a coma for…" The nurse hesitated. "Well, let’s focus on recovery."

As the door shut, Clara’s phone lit up on the bedside table. A new text:

"Find me again. -E"

Outside, rain began to fall.