Part I:
Nathan was searching the library when he saw it. A tan, hardcover notebook that was almost invisible amongst the other books on the shelf. The cover was blank, but it looked worn. Curious, he picked it up and opened it slowly. Inside the cover was a handwritten name he didn’t recognize. He thought about taking it to the lost and found, but then he flipped to the first page. It was dated October 3rd, 2025. He looked at his phone. The lockscreen read OCT 03 in a bold font. He couldn’t help but read the first line.
Muggy today. It feels like a storm is coming.
Nathan looked at the sky through the library window. It was dark with thick, gray clouds. He couldn’t help but keep reading. As mundane as the entry was, his curiosity got the better of him.
He flipped to the next page.
October 4, 2025
The weather is worse today. It’s so humid. Dr. Mason made a comment in class about time folding in on itself. He looked me in the eye when he said it. After class, I saw Kate crying outside Benedum. I didn’t stop to talk to her.
Nathan stared at the date, confused. How is that possible? Perhaps someone was messing with him. Maybe it was his roommate, Trevor. Maybe he knew Nathan would be in this section of the library and planted it. Or, maybe it was Lydia, trying to convince him to believe in ghosts. Maybe it wasn’t meant for him to find at all.
He kept reading. Most of the entries were dull and mundane, describing things like the weather and class schedules. But something about it kept tugging at him. The way the writer noticed small, quiet things, like the way someone shifted their eyes when they spoke. It didn’t read like fiction. It read like someone who watched everything and said almost nothing. Not unlike himself.
Then a name came up again.
Kate didn’t show up to Ethics. I doubt it had anything to do with class. Not sure if this rain will ever stop.
Nathan blinked and stared at the name. Kate. He knew that name, he realized. Kate sat two rows behind him in his Ethics class. She always wore her sandy hair in a loose bun, her hands tucked into her hoodie sleeves. He’d never spoken to her. She was quiet. Seemed nice.
He looked at the date. October 6th. He tried not to freak out. On Monday, he decided, if Kate wasn’t in Ethics class, then he’d freak out. In the meantime, he took the journal to Trevor and Lydia to see what they thought.
They each reacted the way he presumed. Trevor dismissed it as being someone’s creative writing project. He was loudly rebellious against his parents’ Hindu religion and always doubted anything supernatural, Lydia immediately began analyzing it for meaning. Nathan didn’t want to say anything to Kate. Not yet.
Lydia held the journal, fixated, flipping back to the first page and then forward again.
“Can I borrow this?” she asked, eyes still on the paper. “Just for tonight?” Her mousey hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her glasses slid slightly down her nose as she read.
Nathan hesitated, then said, “Yeah. Sure, just be careful with it.” He wasn’t sure why he said that. Something inside him compelled him to feel protective of the journal. Something about the journal spending a night off campus made him uneasy, but he trusted Lydia.
Nathan tossed in his bed all night. He was jealous of Trevor, who’d been out cold for hours.
He must have fallen asleep at some point, because the room was suddenly bright and Lydia was standing in the doorway, holding the journal. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. She explained that she thought the name of the journal’s author sounded familiar—someone her older sister, Claire, had mentioned before. When she showed her, Claire confirmed.
“Elliot Winslow,” Lydia spoke softly. “There was a guy in one of my sister’s classes a few years ago with that name. She said he just disappeared one day.”
“Like, he went missing?” Nathan asked.
“No, more like, he stopped showing up to class and she’d forgotten all about him, until I showed her this.”
“Does she remember anything about him?”
“That’s the thing, she said his name sounded super familiar, but she can’t remember the faintest detail. This guy was definitely a fan of Dr. Mason, though,” Lydia continued, “one of the physics professors. He keeps quoting stuff from his lectures like it’s scripture.”
Trevor groaned and rolled his eyes. “This is clearly some kind of stupid prank. Why are we wasting our time with this?”
“What if this is serious?” Lydia barked.
Trevor shrugged. “Then report me to the Department of Paranormal Activity and leave me out of it.”
Lydia ignored him. “That part about Kate…”
Nathan nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“Should we do something?” Lydia whispered. “It mentions some guy… Logan? Do you know him?”
Nathan shook his head.
Trevor looked over. He was sitting on the futon now, TV off, holding a PlayStation controller in his hands. “I know a Logan,” he piped up. “He’s an asshole.”
“Well, the guy in this journal doesn’t sound like a peach,” Lydia said plainly. “It basically says he bullies Kate every day. We should catch him in the act.”
Trevor laughed. “Do you hear how insane you sound?”
The thunder roared as the rain beat down on the dorm room window. Nathan looked out, silently watching the water stream down the glass in crooked lines.
“Monday is the sixth,” Nathan said eventually. He didn’t take his eyes off the window. “If Kate isn’t in class, then we’ll know.”
“We’ll know what, exactly?” Trevor snorted. “The book says this guy is in places he’s not. Like your Ethics class. It’s all fantasy.”
“Maybe he’s…” Lydia hesitated, locking eyes with Nathan. “Not human.”
“Or maybe he’s trapped in another dimension like something out of Doctor Who,” Trevor joked.
Nathan shook his head.
That night, Nathan sat at his desk, hunched over his journal, his homework long forgotten. Across the room, Trevor cursed at the TV, mashing buttons on his controller.
“Hey Nate,” he said, eyes locked on the screen. “When you’re done reading whatever-the-hell, wanna jump in on this?”
Nathan was still locked into the journal.
“Nate?” Trevor spoke louder. “Earth to Nathan!”
Nathan finally looked up. His face was pale. “Huh?”
Trevor glanced over. “Are you still reading that damn journal thing? It’s not real. Let it go.”
Nathan’s body tensed. The entries weren’t a work of fiction. They were lining up in real time. But how could he explain that to Trevor without sounding insane? He decided to start small.
“Just… listen a second,” he began. “Every event lines up in real time. Exact time. Same details.” He read aloud: “’Crazy storm tonight. It started as soon as I got back to my dorm…’” As the entry continued, every word was accurate.
Trevor shrugged. “Lucky guess.” He held up the controller. “You playing or what?”
Nathan turned back to the journal, shaking his head.
Trevor sighed, got up, and grabbed the journal out of his hands. He tossed it across the room. “Dude, seriously! You’re letting this thing screw with your head.”
Nathan stood up. “I don’t know how else to make you believe me,” he said. He walked across the room, picked up the journal, then left without saying anything.
Trevor hadn’t seen Nathan at all the next day. He decided to get out of his dorm for a while and take his laptop to the computer lab across campus. It was a nice day for a walk, despite the clouds, he thought. But after an hour in the computer lab, the sky grew dark, and it began to pour again.
When he was ready to leave, Trevor stood under an awning waiting for the rain to slow down. He was starting to think it would only get worse. It usually took him ten minutes to walk from Carson Hall back to his dorm, and he wasn’t willing to make that walk in the rain while carrying his laptop. As he pulled out his phone to call Lydia, someone walked by him.
Then a vaguely familiar voice said, “Hey, Trevor.”
He looked up and said, “Hey. You’re in my programming class, right?”
“Yeah. Logan. You want a ride back to the dorms?”
“Yeah, sure,” Trevor shrugged. “But only if you pull up to the curb here. Got my laptop and I don’t have an umbrella.”
Logan nodded and walked to the parking lot. Moments later, Trevor watched a red Jeep Wrangler drive up to the curb. Trevor’s eyes explored the Jeep as he got in. The interior was immaculate and seemed recently cleaned. It smelled faintly of stale cigarette smoke and leather, but mostly the artificial freshness of upholstery shampoo. Logan smelled like sweat and rain.
With the interior lights still on, he spotted a purple and pink hoodie carelessly tossed in the back seat. His eyes caught the name Sinclair before he shut the door and the lights went out. He clicked his seatbelt in place and cleared his throat.
“Nice Jeep,” he said.
“It was my older brother’s,” Logan sighed. “Now it’s mine.”
“You don’t seem thrilled about it,” Trevor noted.
“I’d rather have something of my own for once,” Logan huffed. “I’m planning on selling it after I graduate.”
“I see why you keep it so clean, then,” Trevor said.
Logan side-eyed him but said nothing. The rest of the ride was quiet.
When they arrived at the dorms, Trevor wrapped his laptop into his hoodie and ran inside. Logan entered shortly after him, and Trevor thanked him for the ride. Logan nodded and walked ahead of him, straight to his own dorm.
Kate didn’t come to class on Monday. Nathan tried not to stare at the empty seat, but his eyes kept drifting behind him. October sixth. Just like the journal said. When his classes were over, he headed straight back to his dorm.
Trevor was on the futon, scrolling through his phone with the TV muted. An episode of The First 48 displayed itself silently on the screen.
“She wasn’t in class,” Nathan croaked, dropping his bag.
Trevor glanced up. “That Kate girl?”
Nathan nodded.
“Logan was, though,” Trevor said, raising an eyebrow. “Actually, that guy was in a weirdly good mood.”
There was a knock at the door, then Lydia entered. She stepped inside, dripping wet from the pouring rain. “Well? Kate?” She spoke quickly.
“She wasn’t there,” Nathan spoke quietly.
Lydia frowned. “Then we need to find Logan.”
“I know where his dorm is,” Trevor said, getting up from his seat.
“Now you’re being helpful?” Nathan said.
“I’m just curious to see what your plan is,” Trevor laughed.
He walked them to Logan’s dorm room. A young woman stood at Logan’s door knocking aggressively. She had dark hair with streaks of purple, green, and blue. She was wearing a dark leather jacket and knee-high boots. She kept yelling something about Kate.
“Let me in, you son of a bitch!” she screamed into the door.
“Excuse me,” Lydia spoke softly. “I heard you say you’re looking for Kate?”
“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend. Who are you?”
Logan finally opened the door. “The fuck do you want, Maeve? And—Trevor? What the hell is going on?”
Maeve pushed her way into Logan’s room, the other three in tow.
“Who the hell are they?” Logan barked.
“I was just asking them that,” Maeve said, looking around Logan’s room.
“I’m Nathan. Trevor’s roommate, and this is our friend Lydia. We’re, um…” Nathan’s voice trailed off. He couldn’t think of what to say.
“We actually don’t know Kate very well,” Lydia spoke up. “But we heard she might be in trouble. We heard you might know something.”
Logan scoffed. “How would I know anything?”
Maeve stepped closer. “You said something to her yesterday. She wouldn’t tell me what. She wasn’t in her bed this morning when I woke up and I haven’t been able to get a hold of her all day. I called campus security and the cops, but they won’t do shit. Said she hasn’t been missing long enough.” She spoke louder when she said “missing,” as if drawing attention to the weight of the word.
Logan rolled his eyes. “She’s been spiraling for weeks. Go talk to Mason. He’s been keeping her after class almost every day lately.”
Nathan blinked. “Mason?”
“Dr. Mason,” Logan said. “Physics. She’s always talking to him after lectures. Weird guy.”
Lydia looked at Nathan.
“Alright,” Trevor said. “Well, now I’m uncomfortable.” He rocked on his heels.
“What?” Maeve’s head whipped around. “Seriously, what do you guys know?”
“We can show you,” Lydia said softly, but with authority.
Back in Nathan and Trevor’s dorm, they told Maeve everything, showing her the journal and explaining what they had already learned.
“So, do you know him? This Elliot guy?” Maeve asked.
“No,” Nathan said. “Never heard of him.”
“My sister said he was her classmate, like, five years ago,” Lydia said. “She doesn’t remember anything about him, though.”
“Why is it written in the future?” Maeve said, flipping through the pages.
“Not a clue,” Nathan said. “But that’s why I was worried about Kate. He mentions her not being in class today. Then he writes about her being… found… on campus. Tomorrow morning,” he tried to speak delicately. “There’s no Elliot in my Ethics class, though.”
“She’s never mentioned anyone named Elliot in her physics class, either,” Maeve shook her head.
“Maybe he’s the killer,” Trevor said sarcastically.
“Maybe,” Lydia said. “Or maybe it was Dr. Mason.”
“We don’t know that she’s dead,” Maeve said sternly. Her dark eyes were filled with rage and sorrow.
They stayed up later than they’d meant to. Talking, speculating, spiraling. Eventually, they all fell asleep.
All except Nathan. He was still awake when the alert blared loudly on everyone’s phones.
CAMPUS SAFETTY BULLETIN – URGENT
A student was found deceased this morning on campus. The student has been confirmed as Kathryn Rachel Sinclair. Pittsburgh Police and campus security are investigating…
Nathan stopped reading. He didn’t move. His hands went numb. He just stared at the screen. The words blurring as his vision began to sting. Outside, the rain had stopped, but the sky was still dark with clouds.
He grabbed the journal and flipped to today’s date. There was only one question in his head now.
Will there be another?
Part II:
The campus safety bulletin was open on Nathan’s laptop screen. He couldn’t stop re-reading it. Kathryn Rachel Sinclair. Deceased. Investigating. Every word was already burned into his memory.
Across the room, his reflection stared back from the closet mirror. His shoulders were level, his posture straight, his face neutral. If he saw someone else sitting like that, he would assume they were relaxed.
He pressed his heel into the floor to keep his leg from shaking. His gaze landed on the journal beside his laptop, waiting for him to admit what he already knew.
“It doesn’t prove anything,” he said aloud. His voice felt detached, like someone else had muttered the words.
He reached for the journal. Hesitated. Picked it up anyway. He pleaded silently for there not to be another name. He turned the pages, then glanced at himself again. He was still calm in the mirror, still shaking underneath. Then he began to read.
Maeve sat in one of the three uncomfortable plastic chairs lined up against the wall in the hallway, waiting to be called in by campus security. She sat with her arms folded, her head down. She tensed her muscles to avoid trembling. She didn’t want to know the details of what happened to Kate. She didn’t want to be shown photos of her after she was killed.
Another person entered the room, but she didn’t look up. He sat down, and she instantly recognized him by the way he smelled—a cheap, musky cologne barely covering the stench of sweat and wood smoke. One empty chair separated her from Logan, who pulled out his phone and scrolled like this was a casual afternoon. As if Maeve’s soulmate wasn’t dead. As if they weren’t about to be questioned by the police.
“You’re lucky there’s cops on the other side of this wall,” Maeve muttered through her teeth.
“Are you threatening me?” Logan gasped dramatically, the corners of his lips twitching.
“Shut up,” Maeve said. “I have nothing nice to say to you.”
“Why not? Do you think I had something to do with it?” Logan said smugly.
Kate had often come back to her and Maeve’s dorm, crying because of things Logan had said to her in class. As though he never grew out of his ‘high school bully’ phase.
“Trust me, they’re gonna nail Dr. Mason before the end of the week,” Logan said. “I heard they found PPE from his lab at the crime scene. Plus, you know how much time he spends with some of his students? Kinda creepy.”
Maeve’s mind spun with a montage of gruesome, violent scenes. Some involved Logan, some Mason; most of them were just a faceless killer. Each involved a pair of gloved hands around Kate’s throat. Maeve inhaled slowly and held her breath, suppressing her tears.
“We both know she wasn’t in her right mind, though,” Logan continued to pry. “You think she was doing drugs or something?”
Maeve wanted to grab him and beat his face in with her bare hands. But she knew he was only saying things to get a rise out of her, and she grit her teeth and sighed.
A man stepped out of the security office.
“Maeve Liu?” he said. “Did I say that right?”
“Yeah,” she said, standing up. She stared daggers into Logan’s smug eyes one more time before disappearing into the office.
Classes were canceled for the following week, and most of the other students left campus by the end of the day. Lydia stayed home for most of the week, too. Maeve spent the first night in Nathan’s dorm, curled up on the futon around a photo of Kate. Lydia had slept next to Maeve, so she wouldn’t be alone.
The following morning, Nathan found Maeve hunched over his desk, flipping through the journal. Nathan joined her. As they studied the journal, Nathan was the first to find it.
“Right here,” he said. “November seventh. It says, ‘Now Sara’s dead, too. She was found on campus, same as Kate.’ There’s going to be another murder.”
“Let’s figure out if we can find any breadcrumbs,” Maeve said.
“First we have to find out who Sara is,” Nathan said.
“The journal mentioned a girl named Sara who hangs out with Dr. Mason, too.”
“But you’re sure Kate never mentioned anyone named Elliot?”
Maeve shook her head. “Not one word.”
“So maybe our little ghost writer is the killer,” Trevor said.
Nathan sighed. “Come on, let’s go talk to Mason.”
The four of them stood in front of the door. Maeve knocked quietly at first, but when no one answered, she knocked again aggressively.
A man, probably in his late 40’s, with short brown hair, a patchy beard, and a white coat answered the door.
“Dr. Mason?” Maeve asked.
“Yeah,” the man said.
“Kate was in your three PM class?”
“Yes,” he frowned.
“I’m Maeve,” she said, staring at him. He looked confused at first, and then he realized.
“Oh, Maeve,” his shoulders deflated. “Please, everyone, come in,” he opened the door to his classroom.
They pulled some chairs around to a table, where they all sat and talked.
“She talked about you all the time, Maeve,” Mason said. “I’m so sorry. She was one of my favorite students. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”
“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” she said. “Did the cops talk to you?”
“They did,” Mason said. “They found PPE from my lab near where they think is the crime scene. A glove or something. Unused.”
“Interesting,” Trevor muttered. Lydia elbowed him in the ribs.
“They told me,” Maeve said. “How’d they know it was yours?”
Mason shrugged. “It was the same brand I use. Plus, my PPE closet isn’t hard to get into. I don’t even lock it. Anyone could get in there at any time.”
Nathan jotted down notes with a notebook and a pencil. “Who’s Sara?” he muttered.
“Sara?” Mason repeated, surprised. “I have a Sara in the same class as Kate. Why?”
“We have…” Nathan hesitated. “Evidence that she might be… targeted next.”
“Already?” Mason’s eyes widened.
“I’m just seeing a pattern, is all. I can’t really explain right now,” Nathan said. “We’re doing our own little investigation.”
“The cops are useless,” Maeve said. “I have my suspicions about another student but they talked to him for five minutes and ruled him out.”
“So, what are you doing hanging out with Kate and Sara after class so much?” Trevor blurted out. “Makes you look a bit suspicious.”
“I know it does,” Mason said. “That’s what I’m worried about—if they focus on me, they won’t find the real killer.”
“Who’s Elliot?” Trevor blurted out again.
Mason’s eyes practically exploded out of his head. “How do you know that name?”
* * *
Elliot’s Journal
November 20, 2025
The library is so quiet right now I can hear my thoughts out loud. No footsteps, no echoes, no whispers… Even the hum of the fluorescent lights sounds too loud.
I wish I could write about how Kate and Sara’s killer was found. But I can’t. It’s been exactly 2 weeks since Sara, and just over 6 since Kate. Everyone was allowed to go home early for fall break, and pretty much everyone is gone now except for some of the professors, and a handful of other students who stayed on campus. Oh, and the occasional group of detectives investigating the murders.
I can feel myself slipping, same as last time. It’s like I’m losing sense of this reality. Like I’m about to wake up from a dream that I keep trying to cling to. Even though it’s a horrible dream.
I’ve been helping Dr. Mason a lot since Kate and Sara died. He pretty much hasn’t left his lab since Kate. Most days I find him hunched over something, sometimes not even noticing I came in. We don’t talk about it, but we both really miss them. I didn’t spend much time with Sara, but somehow I miss her as much as Kate. This morning, Mason pointed out that next week there will be two empty seats at Thanksgiving tables that shouldn’t be. He said it with a tear in his eye that he wiped away with his finger. I couldn’t help but wonder what it was like to have a family waiting for you. I thought of Claire. Makes me wonder if I’ll be forgotten again.
Claire never forgot a face, or a name. That was her ‘superpower,’ or party trick—whatever you want to call it. But I walked past her house today and saw her. I don’t know if she was just visiting her parents or if maybe she still lived there. She sat on her porch swing. Her gorgeous blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders and faded into her scarf. She looked older—obviously—but she has aged beautifully. I wanted to run up to her, to grab her, hold her, and kiss her. But I couldn’t. When I realized I’d stopped and we were making eye contact, I simply said, “Hi, beautiful day in the neighborhood,” and tried to act casual.
Claire said, “Yeah,” and looked up at the sky.
I said, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to stare at you. You look like someone I used to go to school with, just down the road.”
“Well, I graduated from there in 2021,” she said.
My heart skipped. I hoped she’d recognize me. I wanted to scream, It’s me! It’s Elliot! Please, come and kiss me! Instead, I said, “Ah, not my time.” Then I wished her a nice day and kept walking.
When I got back to campus, I told Mason I could feel it again—like whatever the experiment did is still happening, and it keeps dragging me back into moments I don’t belong in. He hugged me and apologized again. I told him it wasn’t his fault; I reminded him that I volunteered to help him with his experiment. That I just hoped he’d be there when I landed in a new time.
“I worried about you for almost a decade, son,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “I’m so sorry I don’t know how to fix this. I wish I never…” he started choking up and I hugged him tighter. I didn’t leave until he’d stopped crying.
It’s starting to rain again.
* * *
“I have to show you something,” Mason said flatly.
Mason took them into his lab. It looked normal: beakers, burners, an eyewash station next to the sink, labeled cupboards filled with tools and equipment. In the back of the room was a door.
“Now, this room—my lab—used to be the photography room, before they moved it upstairs. So, this used to be the dark room. Now, it’s….” his voice trailed off as he opened the door.
Nathan looked inside the room. It was lined with copper wires, different colored cables, mirrors, magnets, three monitors hanging from the wall—almost like a junkyard for scientific and medical equipment, except everything was meticulously laid out.
“What the hell is this, a TARDIS?” Trevor laughed. “I told you this was some Doctor Who shit.”
“I call it my Echo Rig,” Mason said sheepishly. “My little pet project. I’ve been working on it for fifteen years. It’s… it’s hard to explain.”
“Well, you might want to try,” Maeve said stiffly.
“Alright. I have this theory. I call it Echo Theory,” Mason began. “Think of your voice echoing in an empty room.”
“Okay,” Nathan nodded. “Go on.”
“Well, one day I thought, what if everything can do that? Not just sounds, but objects in space, moments in time? So I built this…” he gestured toward the small room, “using parts from an old MRI machine. After a few years, my experiment worked.
“So that’s what Elliot was talking about,” Nathan muttered.
“What?” Mason looked at him with his mouth open, eyes bulging. “Y-you talked to Elliot?”
“Um, no, not exactly,” Nathan said. “I have something written by him.”
“You do?” Mason gasped. “What is it? What does it say?”
“I can’t let you read it,” Nathan said. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re still a suspect,” Maeve said. “Kate trusted you. I don’t.”
“So, who’s Elliot, then?” Trevor interjected. “That didn’t answer my question at all!”
“And why do I have a post-dated, handwritten journal of his?” Nathan said.
Mason sighed. “It’s my fault,” he said under his breath.
“What is?” Nathan said.
“It was nine years ago. He just… vanished,” Mason spoke quietly. “Then, nobody else remembered him. It was like he was erased from existence. I almost started to convince myself he was never real. Then he showed up again, here, now, in 2025. For him, it was like seconds passed. I tried to stabilize him, but I couldn’t. Then,” Mason snapped his fingers. “Poof, gone again. Now it’s like I have two overlapping memories—one where he’s here, and one where he never existed. I’ve been working on bringing him back ever since then. I live with the guilt every day.”
“How do you know Elliot’s alive?” Lydia, who’d been silent this whole time, spoke up.
Mason shook his head. “I guess we don’t,” he sighed. “I can only hope he’ll show up again.”
“I think I’ve heard enough,” Maeve said. “Let’s go.”
For Maeve, the next few weeks crawled by. The police wouldn’t release Kate’s body until they’d pinned a suspect, but their trail had gone cold. Maeve had tracked down Sara and befriended her. She’d made a plan to ‘accidentally’ bump into her and strike up a conversation, and they were acting like good friends in no time. She learned that Sara enjoyed knitting, sci-fi novels, and jigsaw puzzles. That she had a cat named Pickles at home. That she always drank a cup of tea before bed and slept with the TV on. She reminded Maeve a little bit of Kate, in so many small ways she couldn’t explain.
Nathan studied Elliot’s journal religiously, searching for any clues he could find. Trevor managed a tracking app he’d installed on Maeve’s and Nathan’s phones. He still wasn’t sure if he believed the journal, but he no longer thought it was a joke. Lydia stopped by occasionally, but she decided she didn’t want to be part of the investigation. She said she couldn’t risk losing her scholarship if things went wrong.
Then, the day came. It was 8:45 PM, and a figure walked toward the Benedum building. It was raining, but just barely.
“Who is that?” Trevor whispered.
Each of them tried to get a good look, but it was too dark. The only thing they could make out was a silhouette. Maeve made her way closer, trying to remain unseen. Nathan and Trevor watched the entrance of the building.
Minutes later, a young woman exited the doors. The rain drizzled down in a cold mist.
“That must be Sara,” Nathan whispered.
The man approached Sara. They talked for a few seconds, and then she started to follow him. He began leading her into the woods behind campus. Nathan quietly tailed them while Trevor pulled up the tracking app on his phone. Maeve approached from the opposite side.
In the woods, Nathan and Maeve watched as the man chatted with Sara incoherently. Nathan wondered why she was so willing to follow him. A few hundred feet into the woods, they stopped walking. The man handed something to Sara, covered himself in disposable PPE—coveralls, shoe covers, gloves, a surgical mask, and goggles—and Sara did the same. Suddenly, the man grabbed her and pulled her into him, then locked her in a chokehold.
Nathan unlocked his wet phone screen. The tracking app was already open. He tapped the “emergency” button, alerting Trevor.
Trevor called 911 and ran inside the building. The rain came down harder.
“Hey!” Nathan yelled, pointing the flash towards them. The man had Sara on the ground, his hands wrapped around her neck, strangling her.
“Hey!” he screamed again. “Let go of her!” Nathan tackled the man and tried to pry his hands from Sara’s throat.
Then Maeve was on top of the man, her arm around his throat. She pulled him to the ground. She swung her leg around and kicked him in the groin. He groaned and let go of Sara, who gasped for breath and sobbed. Nathan pulled off her wet mask and goggles and hugged her.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re okay,” he said.
Sara sobbed into Nathan’s chest as Maeve wrestled the man to the ground. She pulled her taser from her back pocket, released him, kicked him, and tased him. He flailed for a second before landing limp on the ground. She straddled him, pinning his shoulders down with her knees, and started punching him. She punched his foggy, wet goggles and mask again and again and again. She didn’t stop until campus security was pulling her off of him.
One of them held the man down on the ground with his hands behind his back. They pulled off his mask and goggles and shined their flashlights in his face. Everyone looked at him and gasped.
Logan’s bloodied, swollen face was half covered in mud, looking villainous under the flashlights.
Maeve screamed, “I fucking knew it!” and wailed incoherently, falling to her knees.
“He tried to kill me!” Sara screamed.
Logan spat blood on the ground.
When the cops arrived a few agonizing minutes later, Logan was arrested, Sara was taken to the hospital, and everyone else was interviewed.
The next day, the sky was blue for the first time in weeks. Everyone had been up late talking to the police. Maeve and Lydia had gone with Sara to the hospital.
Lydia texted Nathan from the hospital, “She’s doing great. I’m sorry I backed out. I got scared.”
Nathan replied: “Nothing to be sorry for. So glad to hear Sara’s good.”
Trevor stayed in his dorm playing video games. Nathan read ‘today’s’ page in the journal over and over, in disbelief. He couldn’t believe he saved Sara, and Logan was arrested. In the afternoon, he decided to go visit Mason.
When he neared the Benedum wing, he saw two people sitting at an outdoor table. As he got closer, he recognized one of them as Mason.
“Dr. Mason,” Nathan said as he approached. “I feel like I owe you an apology.”
“Oh, no, no,” Mason said. “You don’t owe me a thing.”
Mason stood up and rested his hand on Nathan’s shoulder, with a grin growing wider across his face.
“Nathan,” he said, gripping his shoulder tightly. “I want you to meet my favorite student.”
Nathan stared at him. “You’re Elliot.”
Elliot nodded. Without hesitation, Nathan pulled Elliot into a hug. Elliot’s arms wrapped around Nathan in response.
“You saved my life,” Elliot said, still embracing Nathan. “You created a paradox by saving Sara, and it brought me back.”
“You stabilized the timeline,” Mason said humbly. “I think so, at least.”
“So Logan really did take that PPE from your lab?” Nathan asked.
Mason shrugged. “I guess so,” he sighed. “It’s awful. I never thought a student of mine could be capable of murder.”
The three of them sat and talked. Nathan gave Elliot his journal back. Elliot explained what it felt like to be a “temporal echo,” as they called it. Mason rattled off ideas about why the paradox worked to stabilize the timeline.
Around sunset, they were still talking when a woman approached them.
“Elliot,” she spoke.
He immediately recognized Claire’s voice. He stood, laughed in disbelief, and they embraced.
Keaton Aymar 