─═✧✧═─ 𝔽𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝟙𝟡𝟙𝟚 ─═✧✧═─

The Echo of Her Presence

Henry stood in the silence of his father's study, staring at the space where Mia had been just moments before. His hand was still outstretched, his fingertips aching from the sudden loss of her touch. The warmth of her presence lingered in the air, but the golden light that had once connected their worlds had flickered out, leaving only a hollow quiet behind.

He tried to call her name, but the words got caught in his throat. Mia was gone, pulled back to her time like a shadow fading at dusk.

Henry's legs felt weak as he lowered himself into the armchair beside his desk, trying to catch his breath. His heart was still pounding, the adrenaline of the moment refusing to settle. He ran his hands through his hair, staring at the machine that had bridged their worlds—the Chronological Resonator—now silent and lifeless. The watch that had glowed so brightly in the heat of their connection lay still, just as ordinary as any other relic of his time.

She was real, he thought. She was here. And now she's gone.

He had always been fascinated by the idea of time, how it flowed like a river that seemed impossible to cross. Until now, it had been an abstract concept, something to be studied, theorised, and occasionally pondered late at night in the quiet of his home. But after hearing Mia's voice for the first time, the boundaries of time had become more than just a puzzle to solve—they had become personal.

And now, after touching Mia, after seeing her, it wasn't just the mystery of time he wanted to solve. It was her.

Henry exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair. His eyes wandered over Jonathan's papers, scattered across the desk. The faint scent of old parchment mixed with the fading warmth of her presence. He could almost feel her standing beside him, her curious eyes scanning the room as if she was seeing history in motion.

He picked up Jonathan's last journal entry again, his mind replaying the words they had read together. Mutual intent. Emotional connection. His hand clenched around the page.

Mia and I share that connection. But it wasn't enough. Not yet.

The watch had been the anchor between their worlds. But it wasn't the heart of the connection—she was. Every call, every conversation, every glance had built something between them, and it was that bond that had pulled her across time. If they could just strengthen it, make it permanent...

Henry sat up suddenly, his thoughts racing. "The watch was only the beginning," he muttered under his breath. "There must be another way to reinforce it."

He pulled open the drawers of his desk, searching frantically for any other objects of significance that might still exist in Mia's time—anything that could serve as a bridge. But most of what he owned was likely lost to history, scattered by the passing decades. He slammed the drawer shut in frustration, leaning back again as despair threatened to creep in.

How could he reach across that impossible divide again? How could he bring her back?

Henry closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. He forced himself to think back to their last conversation—the way she had looked at him, her eyes filled with the same awe and fear that he had felt. Mia had been just as desperate to keep the connection alive, and that was what gave him hope.

She won't give up on this either.

He opened his eyes, a new determination flickering within him. If they had managed to cross the threshold once, they could do it again. But they would need more than a simple object from the past—perhaps they needed to share something deeper. Something that could hold them in place across time.

Henry's eyes drifted to the shelves lining the walls of the study, filled with old books, letters, and artefacts he'd collected over the years. He stood up, scanning the room as he thought back to the conversations they'd had. Mia was as passionate about unravelling the mystery of time as he was. But more than that, she had seemed so alive—her curiosity, her humour, her vulnerability had seeped through the phone lines, through every call.

He paced slowly, thinking out loud. "It's not just about the machine, not just the mechanics. It's about us. It's about how we're tied together."

He stopped in front of the bookshelf where his old family letters were kept. Some were from his grandparents, others from his parents. Most were brittle with age, and many were filled with stories, wishes, and dreams passed down from one generation to the next. They were a record of lives that spanned decades, crossing the same time barrier he and Mia were struggling to overcome.

An idea sparked. "A shared legacy..."

He reached for one of the letters, a faded one from his grandmother. It spoke of love and hope, written at a time when she was separated from his grandfather during the war. The sentiment, though simple, was timeless. A bond that had endured the distance between them, held together by the power of their emotions.

Henry smiled softly as he placed the letter back in its drawer. Emotions endure time.

"Mia," he whispered, turning back to the Resonator. "I'm going to find a way."

A new resolve settled over him. He couldn't sit and wait for Mia to make contact again. He needed to take action, to ensure that when the connection returned—if  it returned—it would be stronger, more permanent.

He moved quickly, gathering papers, letters, and anything else that might help them reconnect. He would study every detail of Jonathan's experiments, every possibility of bridging time, but he would also focus on their connection—on the bond he and Mia shared.

As Henry worked late into the night, his mind kept returning to that last, fleeting touch. Mia had stood in his world, even if just for a brief moment. It had been real—she had been real.

And the thought that he might see her again, might touch her again, kept him going.

But as the hours passed, a darker thought crept into his mind: What if the connection is broken forever?

He pushed it away, refusing to believe it. He wouldn't allow himself to fall into despair. There was a way. There had to be.

With that thought, Henry returned to his work, determined to find a way to reach across time once more. This wasn't the end—not for them. They had crossed the impossible threshold once, and somehow, they would do it again.

Time, he decided, would not keep them apart forever.