1

Three years ago, my daughter fell from the twentieth floor. She died instantly.

My husband, Ethan, held her body for three days and nights, refusing to sleep. Chelsea, her godmother and my best friend, cried until she collapsed.

I refused to believe my daughter, Lily, would go to the rooftop alone. I dedicated my life to uncovering the truth. But no matter how hard I looked, the security footage and every shred of evidence pointed to one conclusion: she had jumped.

Until today, the anniversary of her death. I received a call from an unknown number.

The voice on the other end was identical to my own.

“Lily, sweetie, you be a good girl and wait for Mommy, okay? I’m coming home, and I’ll bring you your favorite strawberry cake.”

I froze.

Those were the last words I ever said to my daughter.

…

Before I could process what was happening, the voice on the other end called out again, laced with confusion.

My own voice trembling, I whispered my name into the phone. “Amy.”

Silence. The Amy from three years ago was stunned, her tone shifting to sharp suspicion. “Who is this? Why do you sound just like me? I was calling my daughter. How did I get you?”

I struggled to keep my voice steady, my words rushing out. “I’m you, from three years in the future. Listen to me. Today is the day Lily falls to her death. You have to save her!”

A cold, dismissive laugh came through the speaker. “If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable. My daughter is perfectly fine at home.” She sounded annoyed. “I can’t even hang up. What the hell do you want?”

If I weren’t living this nightmare, I wouldn’t believe it either.

“I know it sounds insane,” I said, my voice firm. “But it’s real, and I can prove it.”

“At 1:15, Ethan, who’s supposed to be working late, is going to call and tell you he won’t be home this afternoon.”

“You’ll get worried about Lily being alone and call Chelsea to ask her to watch her, but Chelsea will say she just left town for a trip.”

“Then, at 1:20, your assistant will call, pressuring you to come in for a critical meeting, and you’ll give up on going home to Lily.”

In my three-year quest for the truth, I had replayed that day countless times. Every detail was seared into my soul.

As I finished speaking, the clock ticked over to 1:15.

Right on cue, Ethan’s ringtone echoed faintly through the phone. This bizarre, time-spanning connection was so clear I could hear their entire conversation.

“Honey, work is crazy today. I have to work late again…”

Thirty seconds later, Amy hung up and dialed her best friend. Just as I’d said, Chelsea answered, full of regret, explaining she’d left on a trip that very morning.

Immediately after, her assistant called, reminding her the meeting was about to start.

“Turn the car around and go home right now,” I commanded. “Take Lily with you. The client for that meeting is going to bail at the last minute. The meeting is a waste of time.”

A two-second pause, then the roar of an engine.

“I’ll trust you this once,” she said, her voice tight with tension. “If there’s even a one-in-a-million chance my daughter is in danger, I’m not taking it.”

A wave of relief washed over me. “I know,” I whispered. “We’re the same.”

The image of my daughter’s broken body flashed in my mind, as vivid as if it were yesterday. Her tiny frame, twisted and unnatural, her little white dress stained crimson with blood that pooled from the back of her head. The memory was a physical pain, a knife twisting in my gut. I hated myself for not finding the person responsible and making them pay.

But now, here it was. A chance to undo it all. A chance I had to seize.

She floored it, turning a twenty-minute drive into ten. The moment she burst through the door, I heard Lily’s bright, familiar voice, brimming with life.

“Mommy, you’re back so soon!”

A lump formed in my throat. I could picture her perfectly, running into her mother’s arms, her eyes crinkling into a joyful smile.

The past Amy’s voice was soft. “Sweetie, how about you come to the office with Mommy today? I’ll buy you a strawberry cake.”

Lily, of course, cheered with excitement.

But just as they were about to leave, I heard the faint click of another door opening, followed by Amy’s shocked voice.

“Chelsea? I thought you were out of town!”

I stiffened. Chelsea was there that day? I distinctly remembered her telling me she didn’t get back until the day after. But there was no mistaking the voice on the phone—Chelsea’s, laced with surprise and a hint of something unnatural.

“You said Lily was alone. I’m her godmother, aren’t I? Of course, coming back for her is more important.”

A thousand questions swirled in my mind. All I could manage was to urge Amy to keep Lily by her side before a new call beeped through, severing our connection.

It was the Chelsea from my timeline, her voice as gentle as it had been three years ago.

“Amy, are you still at the cemetery? I know how hard this is for you, but you have to keep moving forward…”

My gaze was fixed on the distance, my voice flat as I cut her off.

“The day Lily died, were you really on a trip?”

Chelsea paused, a flicker of confusion in her voice. “Yes? I tried to come back, but my flight was canceled due to the weather. Don’t you remember?”

Her tone grew heavy, laced with practiced concern and a hint of weary depression.

“You haven’t given up on finding this… this ‘truth,’ have you? The police ruled it an accident. Lily was only five. It’s not impossible for a curious child to wander up to the roof.”

“You’re going to drive yourself mad inventing enemies that aren’t there, torturing yourself over a tragic accident.” Her voice cracked. “And now… are you starting to suspect me? Amy, I cried until I passed out. They had to take me to the hospital…”

I stared at the photograph of my daughter on the gravestone, my resolve hardening. Everyone thought I was crazy. And maybe I was, pushed to the very edge of sanity. This phone call with my past self felt like a fever dream.

But I knew it was real. Just as I knew my daughter’s death was no accident.

“Of course not,” I replied coolly. “You know I wouldn’t accuse anyone without reason. It was just a random thought.”

After hanging up, I desperately tried to reconnect with my past self. When I finally got through, Amy told me she was about to leave with Lily. Chelsea had already gone.

“I asked Lily about her day,” Amy added. “She said she hasn't seen any strangers. Nothing seems out of place.”

“So, there was no warning at all before it happened?”

A bitter taste filled my mouth. That was the truth. If there had been even the slightest clue, I wouldn’t have spent three years chasing shadows.

Amy took Lily to her office. As I’d predicted, the client canceled the meeting without warning. She was too preoccupied to care, delegating the fallout to her assistant while keeping Lily glued to her side.

A few minutes later, she called me back, her voice strange. Even without seeing her, I could imagine the grim expression on her face.

“You’re not going to believe this. Ethan never worked late today.”

“I just called his office. The receptionist said he left early.”

Now, my own expression turned to stone.

2

“Why would he lie about leaving work?” I muttered to myself, unable to comprehend his motive.

In all our years of marriage, the two people I trusted most in the world had both lied to me on the worst day of my life.

“Go home,” I told her. “Install hidden cameras in every corner of the house. Don't tell anyone. Not Ethan. Not Chelsea.”

After a few seconds of silence, she replied, “...I will. But I hope this has nothing to do with them.”

I drove away from the cemetery. Just as I walked through my front door, Ethan arrived right behind me.

“Amy,” he said gently. “Chelsea told me you went to the cemetery again. You were thinking about Lily, weren’t you?”

I remembered the day it happened. When he got the call, he’d raced home, running thirteen red lights, arriving disheveled and frantic. He had knelt on the pavement, clutching our daughter’s body, his eyes raw and bloodshot.

Now, as I met his gaze, it was the same as always—gentle, clear, focused only on me. But for the first time, I felt like I couldn’t see him at all.

“Ethan,” I began, my voice hollow, “why do you think Lily went to the rooftop by herself that day? She never went up there.”

A tremor ran through him, and his face contorted with a familiar agony. “If I hadn't stayed late at work… if I had been home with her, she never would have gone to the roof. A fall from that high… it must have hurt so much. I’m a terrible father. It’s my fault.”

His grief was so profound, so desperate. But then, his tone shifted.

“Honey, Lily is gone, but we’re still here. I’m more worried about you than anything. I can’t stand to see you trapped in this shadow.” He pleaded, “Please, can’t you let it go? For her sake? Lily would be so sad to see you like this.”

He’d said those words a hundred times. He’d even suggested we have another child to fill the void she left. But he didn't understand. A thousand children could never replace my Lily.

A surge of rage boiled inside me. I spun on him, my voice a raw scream.

“What work was so damn important? You promised me you would take care of her! Tell me why, Ethan! Why?”

He looked away, his face a mask of regret. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know she was in danger. That’s why I stayed to work…”

Still lying.

“Get out,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “I don’t want to see you.”

The moment Ethan left, the mask of grief fell from my face. Alone in the room, I opened a piece of software on my laptop. Because my past self had installed the cameras, I could now access three years of footage from inside my own home.

But when I saw what the storage drive held, my eyes widened in disbelief.

Before I could even react, my phone shrilled, breaking the silence. It was Chelsea.

“Don’t be angry with him, Amy. Ethan was just trying to help. You know how clumsy he is with emotions.” Her voice was a soothing balm. “I’m on my way over to keep you company, okay?”

Chelsea. Always so gentle, always unconditionally on my side. But this time, something felt deeply wrong.

To confirm the sickening suspicion taking root in my heart, I answered flatly, “Fine. I’ll be waiting.”

The second I hung up, another call came through—a familiar string of garbled numbers. It was my past self. I snatched up the phone.

Amy’s voice was a panicked cry.

“Lily’s gone!”

3

The world spun, and an icy dread crawled up from my feet.

“What do you mean? You were supposed to keep her with you! How could this happen?”

“She went to the restroom,” Amy choked out. “My assistant was waiting right outside the door. She was only gone for five minutes. When she went in, Lily was gone.”

Five minutes. In a public space covered by security cameras, how could someone vanish into thin air?

The background on her end was chaotic. Suddenly, someone shouted they’d seen Lily leaving the building. My mind recoiled—impossible. But when Amy pulled the security footage, it was true. Lily had walked out of the office by herself.

The moment she stepped outside, she entered a blind spot. And then, she was gone.

Amy’s voice was stretched thin with terror. “I don’t believe she would just walk away without telling me. Something is wrong!”

I bit my lip, my thoughts a tangled mess. “Go home now! Check the rooftop, check the whole building for anything unusual!”

She was already on her way, calling the police as she sped from the office. She burst into our apartment. It was silent, empty.

Amy ran to the building’s security office, but the guard swore he hadn’t seen Lily return after leaving with her earlier.

But she had fallen from our rooftop.

Even with the newly installed cameras, there were no clues. The rooftop door, always locked, remained shut tight, with no sign of tampering.

Amy went door-to-door, her voice low and pleading as she asked our neighbors if they’d seen her daughter. As expected, every answer was no.

“How is this possible?” she cried into the phone. “Is she not going to fall this time? Is it something else? Could she have been kidnapped?”

She tried calling Chelsea, but the calls went straight to voicemail.

Then Ethan showed up, his face etched with worry, asking where their daughter was.

Amy’s voice was sharp. “Ethan, do you honestly have no idea where Lily is?”

His reply was a fraction too slow. “I just found out she was missing. How could I know where she is? Don’t worry, I’ll go to the police station. We’ll find her.”

As he spoke, he took another call and left in a hurry.

Listening on my end, the suspicion in my heart grew into a monstrous certainty.

There were only thirty minutes left until the time of the fall. The image of my daughter’s mangled body filled my vision. My heart hammered against my ribs, and cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I dug my nails into my palm, trying to stop my hands from shaking.

The questions circled relentlessly in my mind. Who lured her out of the office? What did it have to do with the fall? Why were both Chelsea and Ethan lying? Why had Lily gone to the roof that day, and why did she willingly leave the office now? Why did she fall from our building’s rooftop if there was no trace of her ever being there?

Suddenly, a thought struck me with the force of a physical blow.

“There’s one more thing you need to check,” I said urgently. “I’m certain it’s connected to her disappearance!”

At the same time, I rushed back to my study, frantically re-examining the footage from my home cameras.

A few minutes later, staring at my computer screen and listening to the clue Amy had just uncovered, I let out a long, shuddering breath.

I finally understood. I knew the whole, twisted truth.

And I knew how to save my daughter.