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?