Elinor Flowers POV

The night dragged on. I didn't sleep. The image of my father, his kind eyes, his gentle smile, haunted me. Each ticking second was agony. I kept refreshing my phone, hoping for a message, a sign. Nothing.

Finally, as the first hint of dawn colored the sky, my phone buzzed. Future Jadon.

"I needed to breathe," he wrote. "It's hard to talk about this. The hardest."

He paused again. Then, the truth began to unfold, piece by agonizing piece.

"Your father… he had a sudden attack. A major one. The one we always feared," he wrote. "You were in Singapore, presenting your new project. I was told. I immediately called Dr. Chen, the best heart surgeon. I arranged everything. They were on their way."

Another pause. The suspense was unbearable.

"Then Kimberly called me," he continued. "She said she was pregnant. With my child. She said she was having complications. She was bleeding. She said she was losing the baby. Our baby."

My blood ran cold. My head swam.

"I panicked," he wrote. "I left immediately. I told my assistant to make sure the doctors got to your father. I told him to call me with updates."

"I was with Kimberly in the ER. She was distraught. Crying. She said she lost the baby. I believed her. I was shattered."

"When I finally called my assistant, he told me Dr. Chen's team had been canceled. Someone called the hospital, impersonating me. She knew my assistant's name, the hospital, the surgeon—everything. She'd been in my office, gone through my emails while I was in the shower. She planned it for weeks. They said I wanted to use a different team. A cheaper, less experienced one. They said the surgery was delayed."

The words blurred. My vision swam.

"By the time I rushed back, it was too late. Your father… the surgery failed. He died on the table. You screamed for an entire night outside the operating room. I never forgot your face."

"I have carried that guilt for five years, Elinor. Every single day. It was her. She did it. She cancelled the team. She faked the pregnancy. She knew. She wanted him gone. She wanted you broken. And I let her."

I closed my phone. My hands were shaking. My head felt light. I couldn't process it. My father. Dead. Because of Kimberly. Because of Jadon's weakness.

I ran to my parents' house. The door was unlocked. My father was in the living room, reading the morning paper. He looked up, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Elinor! What a surprise, sweetheart!" he said, his voice warm. "Rough night? Did Jadon finally get on your nerves?"

I walked over to him, my legs trembling. I sank into the armchair beside him. I buried my face in his shoulder. His familiar scent, a mix of old books and pipe tobacco, filled my senses. I held him tight.

"No, Dad," I choked out, my voice muffled. "I just… I just wanted to see you."

I spent the whole day at their house. I helped my mother make lunch, chopped vegetables, listened to her chatter about the neighbors. I played chess with my father, letting him win, just like always. Every laugh, every glance, every touch felt precious. So incredibly fragile.

As I was leaving, I messaged future Jadon again.

"My mother," I wrote. "What about her? What happens to her?"

His reply was swift this time. Filled with raw anguish.

"Kimberly put her in a nursing home. Not a good one. A cheap one. She said it was too much for you to handle, after your father. She said you needed space. She convinced me. I let her."

"The staff… they weren't good. They over-medicated her. She became confused. Lost. She didn't recognize anyone. Not even me. She just sat there, staring blankly. She died a year later. From neglect. From a broken heart."

My phone slipped from my hand. It clattered to the floor. I looked back at the kitchen. My mother was humming a tune, washing dishes. Her apron was dusted with flour. She looked so happy. So alive. The image of her lost, confused, in a terrible place, suffocated me.

I pulled over on the drive home. The city lights blurred through my tears. I leaned my head against the steering wheel. My shoulders shook uncontrollably. How could they? How could Jadon, the man I loved, let this happen? How could Kimberly, my supposed sister, orchestrate such cruelty?

I remembered Jadon's kindness. His unwavering support. His laughter. His embrace. Now, it felt like a hollow shell. A phantom limb. I tried to reconcile the man I loved with the man who stood by and watched my family be destroyed. I couldn't. The evidence was too strong. The future Jadon's words were too specific.

I wiped my face. My tears tasted salty. Cold. I drove home.

The first thing I did when I got back was open my laptop. I started searching. Hospitals. Nursing homes. Architectural firms. I wasn't just planning my escape. I was planning their downfall. I would not let this future happen. My parents would be safe. My firm would be mine.

Then my phone rang. It was the hospital. My annual check-up results. I braced myself for the usual "everything looks normal."

"Ms. Flowers," the doctor's voice was calm, professional. "We have your results. You're three months pregnant."

My world tilted. The phone almost slipped from my grasp. I pressed a trembling hand to my abdomen. Pregnant? Three months? That meant… before the engagement. Before the proposal. Before the FaceTime call. Before the betrayals.

Tears sprang to my eyes. They weren't tears of joy. Not exactly. They were tears of a horrifying, twisted irony. A child. Our child.

I sat in the sterile hospital hallway for what felt like an eternity. My mind raced. A baby. Jadon's baby. The one future Jadon said would be lost.

I opened my phone again. "Did we have a child?" I messaged future Jadon.

The screen showed "typing…" then stopped. Then, "typing…" again. It paused for a long time. My heart pounded.

Finally, a short message appeared. "We did. Once."

Then, "Don't ask any more, Elinor. Please."

An hour passed in agonizing silence. Then, a new message. A voice note. Future Jadon's voice. It was raw, strained. Shaken.

"Elinor," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Listen to me carefully. Don't tell anyone. Not him. Not Kimberly. Get rid of it. Please. Don't let it happen. Don't let her take it from you again."

Elinor Flowers POV

I bombarded future Jadon with questions for three days. He resisted. He pleaded with me to let it go. But I wouldn't. I needed to know. I deserved to know.

On the second night, I lay awake with my hand on my stomach. The faint curve was barely there, but I could feel it now—a hardness, a presence. Lily. I tried to imagine a future where I kept this baby. Where I told Jadon, where we raised her together, where Kimberly's schemes somehow didn't touch us.

But every scenario ended the same way. Kimberly would find out. Kimberly would act. And I would lose Lily anyway—only later, only after I'd held her, named her, loved her in the flesh. After I'd seen her face.

I wasn't choosing to end a life. I was choosing which way to lose her. Fast and clean, on my terms, before Kimberly could make it slow and bloody. That was the choice future Jadon had given me. Not a good choice. Just the less cruel one.

By the third morning, I had made my decision. I didn't tell him. I just let him keep talking, filling in the gaps of a future I was already rewriting.

Finally, he gave in. His words came in a torrent, each one a fresh stab to my heart.

"You were five months pregnant when it happened," he wrote. "Jadon... he was consumed with Kimberly's new venture. He was pouring all his energy into it. He spent every night at her office. You were alone. Taking care of yourself."

My vision blurred. I remembered those weeks. I had been so tired. So nauseous. Jadon had been distant. He said work was crazy. He was "investing" in Kimberly's firm. He said he was helping me, too, by expanding "our" network. It was all a lie.

"Kimberly found out you were pregnant," future Jadon continued. "She saw your medical records when she was 'cleaning up' your office. She panicked. She knew a baby would solidify your place. She knew she'd never have Jadon then. She became desperate."

My breath hitched. A cold dread enveloped me.

"She switched your prenatal vitamins. With a drug that induces miscarriage. You had a hemorrhage. A massive one. You were rushed to the emergency room."

My stomach clenched. I relived the phantom pain, the terror.

"Jadon? He was with Kimberly. Celebrating her birthday. He was unreachable. By the time he got to the hospital, it was too late. You lost the baby. A girl. Seven months along. You could see her face. She looked so much like you."

"You had already picked a name for her. Lily. You never fully recovered, Elinor. The grief… it broke you."

My hand flew to my belly. My baby. My precious girl. Lily. She was real. She was inside me. This child, the one I had just found out about, the one who wasn't supposed to be here, was Lily. The horror of what Kimberly planned, what she would do, was unbearable.

At four in the morning, I drove to a private clinic. The streets were deserted. My mind was eerily calm, focused. I walked in, my resolve hardened to steel.

"I need to terminate my pregnancy," I told the doctor. My voice was steady.

The doctor looked at me, her expression kind but searching. "Are you absolutely sure, Ms. Flowers? It's a big decision."

I closed my eyes. "Yes," I said, the word a whisper, but firm. "I am sure."

The procedure was quick. Painful. But I didn't cry. I couldn't. After it was over, I folded the ultrasound pictures, the proof of a life that would never be, and tucked them deep into my wallet. A secret grief. A necessary sacrifice.

That afternoon, I drove my parents to the airport. I had convinced them to take an extended vacation, a trip to Europe I had "won." I had secretly arranged for them to live in a secure, anonymous location, under new identities. They believed it was a luxury trip. I told them specialist doctors in Switzerland would monitor my father's heart condition.

"Why the long face, sweetheart?" my father asked, hugging me tightly. "Are you sad to see us go?"

I forced a smile. My throat ached. "Just a little, Dad. I'll miss you both."

I watched them disappear through the security gate, their figures growing smaller and smaller. My parents. Safe. That was all that mattered. I sank to my knees, shaking, silent tears streaming down my face.

That night, I walked into Jadon's apartment for the last time. He was in the living room, immersed in a financial report. He looked up, a warm smile touching his lips.

"Hey, you're back," he said, closing his laptop. "Long day? Did your parents enjoy their fantastic 'prize'?"

I sat across from him, my gaze fixed on his face. This man, my childhood sweetheart, my fiancé. The man who would allow my family to be destroyed. The man who would enable my best friend to murder our child.

"Jadon," I said, my voice quiet. "What would you do if I wasn't here anymore? If I just… disappeared?"

He put down his report. He took my face in his hands, his eyes full of concern.

"What are you talking about, Elinor?" he said, his voice firm. "Don't say things like that. If you disappeared, I would find you. I would search the ends of the earth. You're my world."

He kissed the tip of my nose. His voice was full of conviction. "Please, don't ever leave me."

He pulled me into a tight embrace. I buried my face in his neck. His scent, familiar and comforting, filled my senses. It was the last time. I knew it. This was the last time I would ever let myself lean on him.

I would disappear. He would search. But he would never find me. Not the real me.

Elinor Flowers POV

The next morning, the fog still clung to the cliffs of the Pacific Coast Highway. I drove my rental car to the end of the winding road, to the isolated cliffside where Jadon had told me he loved me, eight years ago. The air was crisp, salty. The ocean roared below.

I slipped the diamond engagement ring off my finger. I placed it on the rough concrete railing, the "K&J" engraving facing upwards, catching the pale morning light. Beside it, I placed my phone. The screen displayed a final message to future Jadon: "Thank you. You saved me. And them."

I took off my shoes, lining them up neatly at the edge of the cliff. A final, silent theatrical flourish. Then, I got back into the rental car. I drove to a quieter, more isolated stretch of the coast, further down the highway, where a steep, rocky ravine plunged into the sea. I carefully positioned the car. I engaged the gear. I pressed the accelerator. Then, at the last moment, I opened the door and rolled out, tumbling into a thick patch of bushes. The empty car plunged over the cliff, crashing into the churning waves below.

The sound was swallowed by the ocean. My "death" was staged. My new life had begun.

---

Jadon Mclaughlin POV

The phone rang late that afternoon. It was the Coast Guard. My blood ran cold.

"Mr. Mclaughlin," the voice was grim. "We believe your fiancée, Elinor Flowers, may have been involved in an incident on the Pacific Coast Highway. A car matching the description of her rental vehicle has been found at the bottom of a cliff."

My heart stopped. My world imploded. I dropped the phone. It clattered to the floor. I sprinted out the door, fumbling for my keys. I drove like a madman, the speed limit a blur.

My mind raced, fragments of Elinor's strange behavior flashing before my eyes. Her sudden, urgent visit to her parents. Her quiet, almost melancholic gaze when she looked at me. Her question, "What would you do if I wasn't here anymore?" I brushed it off as pre-wedding jitters. I thought she was just being dramatic, wanting reassurance.

I thought her "don't ever leave me" was a playful plea. I thought her embrace was a passionate promise. It wasn't. It was a goodbye. A farewell I was too blind to understand.

I screeched to a halt at the cliff's edge. Police cars, ambulances, and Coast Guard vehicles swarmed the area. I pushed through the crowd. My eyes scanned the scene.

A pair of shoes. Neatly placed at the edge of the cliff. They were hers.

Then I saw it. On the concrete railing. Her diamond engagement ring. It sparkled, reflecting the searchlights sweeping the crashing waves below. I picked it up, my hands trembling. My eyes fell on the engraving inside the band.

"K&J."

My mind reeled. K&J? Who was K? Kimberly? No. It had to be a mistake. A cruel joke.

The searchlights from the rescue boats swept across the dark water. Below, the ocean swallowed the wreckage. My hand, clutching the ring, shook violently. I fell to my knees beside the railing, the cold concrete digging into my skin. "Elinor!" I screamed, my voice raw, broken. "Elinor, what did I do?!"

Then, her phone rang. It lay beside the ring, its screen flashing. A video call. I picked it up, my hands still shaking. I answered, my mind numb with grief.

A face appeared on the screen. My face. But older. Much older. His eyes were shadowed, his hair streaked with gray. He looked like a ghost. My own ghost.

My brain seized. My vision blurred. What was happening? The shoes. The ring. The strange engraving. Elinor's odd behavior. And now this. My future self. It all spun out of control. My reality shattered. I clenched my jaw. What was going on? What had happened to Elinor? What did that engraving mean? And what had I done to push her to this point?