Josie's shift ended later than usual.
The moment Mr. Roland dismissed her, she practically sagged in relief. Her feet ached, her shoulders burned, and her mind was running half a dozen thoughts about Adrian, the original Josie, and the strange web she was slowly stepping into.
The sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving the streets bathed in soft gold fading into blue. Lila had messaged her earlier that she'd be out late with her dance group, so the apartment would be quiet when Josie returned.
She grabbed her bag, clocked out, and headed to the door.
Then hesitated.
Call me, he had said.
Her fingers grazed her phone. She didn't owe Adrian anything. And she wasn't scared. She had walked alone in much rougher neighborhoods in her old world. But… she wasn't the old Josie here. And the construction path was dangerous.
Just because she was strong didn't mean she had to be reckless.
She tapped his contact — labeled simply Adrian (Café) by the original Josie — and before she could change her mind, the line rang.
He picked up on the second ring.
"Josie?" His voice was warm, steady, the kind that made everything around her still. "Are you off work?"
"Yes," she said quietly. "I'm heading home… and I remembered what you said."
A pause.
Not surprised — pleased.
"Good. Stay where you are. I'm close."
"What? Adrian, you don't have to—"
"I'm already on my way."
The line clicked.
Josie stared at her phone.
He hung up on her.
He actually hung up.
A tiny laugh escaped her, half disbelief and half… something softer.
She slipped her phone into her pocket and stepped outside to wait under the streetlamp. Warm lights spilled from the café windows, and the smell of roasted beans followed her into the night.
Within minutes, Adrian's familiar figure appeared around the corner. His pace was unhurried, controlled, like he knew she would still be there — like he trusted her to wait because he asked.
When he reached her, he scanned her quickly, subtly, like checking for signs of exhaustion or discomfort.
"You look tired," he said.
"You look like you always look," she countered.
He actually blinked, caught off guard. "And how is that?"
"Like you're analyzing the air," she said. "Quiet. Serious."
His lips twitched — not quite a smile, but close.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
They started walking.
The night was cool, the sidewalk slightly damp from an earlier drizzle. Streetlights reflected in puddles. Cars hummed lazily in the distance. Adrian walked on the outer side of the sidewalk without being asked.
It was such a small gesture — but it lodged itself deep in Josie's chest.
"Did the original… me ask you to walk her home too?" Josie said after a moment.
Adrian shook his head. "No."
"Then why—"
"She never asked," he said simply. "She didn't like accepting help."
"And you think I do?"
He glanced at her. "You're different."
Her breath caught.
She was starting to hate that word.
And she was starting to fear it too.
"What was she like?" Josie asked quietly. "The old me."
Adrian didn't answer immediately. He looked up at the night sky for a moment before speaking.
"She was bright," he said softly. "Not in the loud way. In the quiet way — like someone who wanted to do more than her circumstances allowed. She… tried hard. Even when no one noticed."
Josie's lungs tightened.
"She also hid a lot," he continued. "Pretended she was fine even when she wasn't. She never asked for help. Not even once."
Josie swallowed. "Is that why you're… looking after me now? Because you feel responsible?"
"No." His answer was immediate.
She turned to him.
Adrian's gaze met hers — steady, unflinching.
"I'm looking after you," he said calmly, "because I want to."
Heat bloomed in her cheeks. She looked away quickly, pretending to focus on the cracked sidewalk instead.
They walked in silence for a bit. A comfortable silence this time.
But as they approached the construction area, both of them paused.
The street was half-blocked off, with scaffolding, cones, and caution tape. The dim lighting created long shadows that twisted strangely along the ground.
Josie stepped closer to Adrian instinctively.
"That doesn't look safe," she murmured.
"We can take the long route," he said immediately.
But just then, a voice cut through the air.
"Josie?"
Both she and Adrian turned sharply.
A man stood a few meters away, hands shoved in his pockets, expression unreadable. He was tall, with striking features — and eyes that narrowed when they fell on Adrian.
Adrian's jaw tightened. Josie felt the tension immediately.
The stranger walked closer.
"You haven't been answering your messages," he said.
Josie blinked. "I—sorry, who are you?"
The man froze, surprise flickering across his face.
"It's me," he said slowly. "Daniel."
Josie replayed the name in her mind.
Nothing.
No memories surfaced — not of the original Josie, not of this world, nothing.
Daniel looked between her and Adrian, confusion turning into something sharper.
"Did something happen to you?" he asked.
Josie opened her mouth, unsure what to say — but Adrian stepped slightly in front of her, blocking Daniel's approach.
"Don't jump to conclusions," Adrian said, his voice low, controlled. "She's fine."
Daniel's eyes hardened. "I wasn't asking you."
"And she didn't ask you to show up," Adrian countered.
The air crackled between them.
Josie felt her pulse quicken. She had two choices: pretend she remembered Daniel, or admit she didn't.
But she didn't get the chance to choose.
Daniel took a breath and said quietly:
"We used to date."
Josie's world stilled.
Her breath.
Her heartbeat.
The ground under her feet.
Everything froze.
Adrian's posture stiffened like someone had poured cold steel into his spine.
Daniel continued, gaze fixed on Josie:
"Why are you acting like you don't know me?"
Josie swallowed hard.
The original Josie… had a boyfriend?
Or worse — an ex-boyfriend?
Adrian shifted closer to her, the space between them shrinking almost protectively.
Daniel's eyes flickered with something unreadable.
"Josie," he whispered, "tell me you remember me."
And she couldn't.
She didn't know him at all.