I stared breathlessly at the parade of images before me, cowering deeper under the tent of covers that I had propped up to protect myself. Somehow I had known that I would need a barrier from the world, that whatever my computer was about to show me would feel like arrows attacking me from all sides. As it turned out, my comforter was not enough to shield me.

The first image of Kieren on Instagram was one that his girlfriend, Stephanie, had tagged him in. So he was still with Stephanie, but this time, the pictures only went back about six months. In the most recent photo, dated just two weeks ago, she was standing next to him in a field, and he was wearing a camouflage Army uniform in desert beige. "So proud of my BF! Finished basic training today!" she had captioned it.

More pictures of them followed—date night at the movies; her "BFF's" birthday party at a bowling alley; just Kieren, taken from her perspective sitting opposite him, rowing a canoe up a beautiful sunlit river.

And then, working backwards in time, on his page: "First day of basic," hashtagged #GoROTC. In another of his photos, sitting at a large library table, books on chemical engineering splayed out in front of him. The caption: "They said college would be easy!"

I wasn't surprised, to be honest. His dad was a real jarhead, having served in the Marines after high school. He had never lost the close-cropped military haircut or stern demeanor which always terrified me when I was a kid. I actually had expected Kieren to follow in his dad's footsteps, football and pride in service being the two religions in the Protsky household.

The pieces of the puzzle began to come into place: the Reserves were paying for Kieren to go to the state college, about half an hour away. Before that, though, he had helped out for a few months at his dad's store, and that's where he had met Stephanie.

The only part I couldn't figure—the part that I was most afraid to find out—was why I wasn't in the picture.

I scrolled desperately through my text messages, looking for clues. Right after the night we came back to this new reality, there had been a spattering messages like, Meet me at my place, or Did you say 7:00 or 7:30? After that, very few texts passed between us for about five months, either because we weren't speaking, or because we were together and therefore didn't need to text.

Then about a year ago, the messages started up again: Miss you tonight, I had written. And two days later, from Kieren: Miss you too. Then a few days later, from me: Why aren't you answering? And Kieren's reply: Studying. Call U later.

A week of nothing followed.

Then a message from me, sent at one-thirty in the morning: Is this really what you want? No reply came.

The last exchange was from eight months ago. Kieren had written, Got your message. Don't know what to say.

I had written back: I'll always love you. No matter what.

That was the last message.

I closed the computer, shut down the phone, and pushed both devices out of my cocoon of covers, so that a pervading blackness took the place of all the artificial light they had been providing. And in that darkness, I balled myself up like a seashell and cried myself to sleep.

*

"Marina?"

I was still enveloped in my sheets, and the voice floated to me in muffled waves. A moment of panic gripped me as I suddenly came to consciousness and couldn't remember what day it was, or even what reality.

"Marina?" my father gently called again.

I flung off the comforter and found him sitting on the edge of my bed, a mug of coffee in his hands that read, "Engineers unscrew things." It had been my Christmas present to him last year.

"What time is it?" I asked with a jolt.

"Nine a.m."

"School," I muttered, wiping my eyes.

"Honey, it's Sunday."

"Mmm." My brain finally began coming to. I sucked in my dry lips to wet them and sat up more fully. "Is something wrong?"

"No," my father smiled. "I'm sorry, I couldn't wait for you to wake up. These were posted last night."

He held up his phone, but my eyes weren't awake enough yet to focus on the screen. Numbers, columns, something important-looking. I reached for my dad's mug and took a sip, blanching at the bitter taste of unsweetened coffee. "Dad, sugar. Seriously."

"It's your SAT scores," he smiled, a barely-contained enthusiasm seeping into his voice.

SATs? I wasn't scheduled to take them until...well, it didn't matter when. Obviously I had already done it.

At least there was one good thing to come of undoing the past—I got to completely skip SAT Saturday.

My stomach suddenly balled up and a burp got lodged somewhere in my esophagus. The coffee mug turned slippery in my palms and I put it down on my bedside table, swallowing repeatedly. "I can't read, just tell me."

"Fifteen forty," my dad beamed, turning his phone back towards him and toggling to another screen.

"What does MIT require?" I asked, thinking ahead.

"Fourteen ninety minimum, see?" Dad turned the phone to me again, having already anticipated the question and brought up the correct screen. "You're in, kiddo. You did it."

"Dad, you don't know that. Test scores are just one element."

"You're gonna get in, I can feel it. I texted your brother. He was so excited."

"You told Robbie? Dad, you gotta give me a minute here."

"I'm sorry, I'm too excited."

I hadn't seen my dad like this in years. He was giddy, like a kid just about to pull into the Disneyland parking lot. Despite my apprehension, I couldn't help but get excited too. Maybe it was just his energy rubbing off on me. I was proud of my accomplishment, but I hadn't even had a moment to process any of this.

It was like, overnight, my life had been decided for me. I would go to Boston and live with Robbie. With Robbie and Piper, I corrected myself. In my old reality, I hadn't been sure what I had wanted. Hell, in my old reality, I had just wanted to feel alive again.

Is this what feeling alive was like? Having life come barreling at me like...well, like a train rushing toward a station. But I didn't even get a chance to choose where the train was going. Was I ready to leave my old life behind? Leave Kieren to the course he had set for himself, one which clearly didn't include me anyway?

And leave Brady. Now that I finally had him.

"Were you studying last night?" Dad asked, eyeing my computer on the floor.

"Kind of."

"Oh, hey, how's that Genghis Khan paper going?"

I swallowed hard at the reminder, my hand instinctively grasping the pinkie where my sweet little ring was missing. I still didn't know if Adam had even made it back from the portal two nights ago. And if he did, well, then there would be a reckoning with him that I would have to deal with.

"It's due soon," I said through my dry throat.

Just then, my phone vibrated on the floor, and I looked down to see "Video call incoming" on the screen, with Robbie's screenshot behind it.

Dad smiled. "I'll leave you two to talk." Standing up to go, he couldn't help but rub my head like he had done when I was a kid. "Proud of you, baby!" he cheered, pumping his fists as he left and chanting softly into his cupped hand to imitate a crowded stadium, "MIT, MIT, MIT..."

I couldn't help but laugh as I reached for my phone. No matter what I decided, knowing that I had made my dad proud was at least something.

"Hey, sis," Robbie smiled as soon as I swiped the phone. He looked like he was in a Starbucks, a chocolate croissant in the hand not holding the phone up.

"Hey," I said back, my heart leaping at the sight of him. Robbie looked great, tan and healthy. And there was something in his eyes that had been missing when I had first rescued him from the DW train. A liveliness, maybe. A spark. For a while there, I had been terrified that some intrinsic part of him had died on that train. It was the main reason I had been so hesitant to go back into Yesterday and redo the past—Robbie was happy with his childhood in Portland, happy not remembering his other self.

Seeing that glow in his eyes over the phone, I thrilled to the idea that maybe he was even happier now. Now that he had gotten the best of both worlds—the safe childhood with Mom in Oregon, but also the memory that he had also had a childhood with a dad and a sister who loved him. Now he truly had a life of his own choosing. A life with Piper.

"Dad told me the good news," he said, chomping off a bite of the croissant. "It's amazing. I'm not surprised, though."

"I haven't had time," I stuttered, "to process it all."

"There will be time when you get here," he smiled. "Then everything will be perfect."

"Robbie—"

"Congratulations, Marina!" a familiar voice shouted from elsewhere in the Starbucks, and Robbie turned the phone to show Piper's glowing face. "I knew you could do it, sis!"

"Piper, hi," I said, tripping over her name a bit. Where did she and I stand now, I wondered, since I was dating her ex-boyfriend?

But however Piper felt about that, it didn't seem to be a problem. She blew me a kiss before curling her perfect lips to exhale onto her hot drink. "Are you excited?" she asked.

"Totally." I cleared my throat, combing through my hair with my fingers. "Sorry, I'm still in bed."

"That's okay. Let's talk later?"

"Sure."

The phone swiveled back to Robbie as he and Piper walked out of the Starbucks and headed towards a car. I could hear the doors opening and a distant siren wailing.

"I'm really happy for you, M," Robbie said, standing by the car. A crystal blue sky framed his face, and I wanted desperately to reach into the phone and hug him. Robbie had always made things make sense for me, even impossible things.

"Robbie, can I ask you something?" I realized I was whispering, although I was pretty sure Piper had already gotten in the car. I didn't want anyone to hear this but him.

"Yeah?"

"Did you..." I had to inhale some fresh air before finishing the question. "Did you ever forgive Kieren?"

Robbie's face froze for a split second, and I wondered if the call had dropped. But then he laughed. It was a strange laugh, coming from Robbie. Bitter and ironic. The kind of laugh I heard from him when he was trapped between dimensions. "For which thing?" he finally asked. "Daring me to get hit by a train or cheating on you?"

Now it was my turn to freeze. I could feel my facial muscles tense and harden with the words, petrifying like ancient wood. My face must've revealed everything that was happening inside my brain.

"Oh, God," Robbie said, realizing his mistake. "You didn't know."

"I have to go, Robbie."

"I'm sorry, M, I thought you knew—"

"It's okay. I'll call you later."

"M? Wait, Marina—"

But I had already hung up. I dropped the phone from my ear and let it plunk down onto the bed, then pushed and kicked it away from me like it was made of poison.