Chapter Four

Tears well up in my eyes as the memories of them rush back. Dad, with his quiet strength, the way he would tuck his glasses into the pocket of his shirt when he was about to have a serious conversation. Mom, always bustling about, full of energy, her laughter filling every corner of our home. And Sam, my brother, the one who tried so hard to be the responsible one after everything went wrong. The one who paid the ultimate price.

I lost them. Every single one of them. I buried them, grieved for them, and now… they’re gone.

I turn towards the mirror, the one that stands in the corner of my room, and what I see makes my breath catch in my throat. Staring back at me is a version of myself I haven’t seen in years. My face is younger, smoother, free from the lines etched by grief and loss. My hair is longer, darker, not yet streaked with the exhaustion that came from trying to survive the endless tragedies that followed.

How is this possible. Did I go back in time? I look hurriedly around the room until I saw my old phone on the bed. Snatching it up, I look to see the date. 20th November, 2024

Five years. I’ve gone back five years.

I stagger backward, my hand pressed against my mouth as I struggle to comprehend the impossible. How am I here? How am I alive?

The room blurs as tears fill my eyes. I’m alive. My family—they’re still alive. This is the time right after the company went bankrupt, right before the beginning of the end. This is when everything started falling apart.

I can change it. I can save them.

My heart thunders in my chest as the realization settles in, and with it, a wave of desperate hope. This is my chance. My chance to fix everything, to stop the tragedies from happening, to protect my family from the pain and death that tore us apart. I won’t let them suffer again.

I hurry out of my room, my footsteps echoing in the familiar hall. As I descend the stairs, the sound of voices drifts up from the kitchen, voices I haven’t heard in years.

I freeze at the bottom step, the sight before me causing my heart to squeeze painfully in my chest. There they are, my family. Sitting at the kitchen table, talking casually over breakfast as if everything is normal. As if the world hasn’t collapsed on them yet.

My father sits at the head of the table, his salt-and-pepper hair a little disheveled as he reads the newspaper. His face, though still carrying that quiet dignity, has a weariness I hadn’t noticed back then. A heaviness in his eyes, masked by the façade of strength he always wore for us. How did I not see it before?

Mom is bustling around the kitchen, flipping pancakes, the smell of butter and syrup filling the room. She looks younger, her smile so wide, so full of warmth. The woman who would later waste away in grief and sickness now stands before me, alive and whole.

And Sam. My brother, slouched over his cereal, his hair a mess, still groggy from sleep. He looks so young, so full of life and promise—before the weight of our family’s downfall crushed him.

I stand frozen in the doorway, tears slipping down my cheeks as I take them in, my heart bursting with love and sorrow all at once. I haven’t seen them in years, haven’t heard their voices, their laughter. I want to run to them, to hug them, to hold onto them and never let go.