That night, Aarav couldn't shake the unease. The messages, the visions, the warnings—they haunted him like shadows.
He returned to his apartment and opened the notebook. Riya's handwriting glowed softly in the lamplight, almost as if alive. He traced the words, desperate for guidance.
Then he felt it—a sudden heaviness in his chest. The room seemed to tilt, and for a fleeting moment, he saw Riya lying in a hospital bed, pale and lifeless, her hand reaching for him.
Aarav's breath caught. "No… this isn't real…" he whispered, but the image didn't fade.
The whisper returned:
"You have the chance to change everything. But one wrong choice… and she's gone."
His hands shook. He realized the danger was not just time—it was the very act of loving her in this timeline. Every choice, every meeting, every smile could shift the fragile thread holding their worlds together.
He sank to the floor, tears blurring his vision. "I can't… I can't lose her," he muttered.