Chapter 2
Liam didn't reply for three days.
Not because he didn't want to.
Because every time he picked up a pencil...
He asked himself the same question.
What if she was telling the truth?
If Hannah really lived in 1995...
Every word he wrote...
Would become her future.
And every answer she sent...
Had already become his past.
The thought was impossible.
Yet...
Nothing about the letters felt like a prank anymore.
The following Tuesday...
Liam returned to the library before sunrise.
The building had just opened.
The reading rooms were almost empty.
Only one elderly man sat near the tall windows, quietly reading a newspaper.
He seemed to be there every week.
Always the same seat.
Always the same gray coat.
Always the same old book beside his coffee.
Oddly...
Whenever Liam walked past him...
The old man would glance at Echoes of Summer.
As if he recognized it.
Liam ignored the strange feeling.
He hurried toward the east wing.
The ancient bookshelf stood exactly where it always had.
Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows.
Dust floated lazily through the golden light.
Everything looked peaceful.
Too peaceful.
He pulled Echoes of Summer from the shelf.
The folded letter was waiting.
"Liam...
You disappeared.
I thought maybe you decided I was crazy.
Did I scare you away?"
Below the words...
Someone had drawn a tiny smiley face.
Liam couldn't help smiling.
He unfolded another page.
"I've been thinking about what you said.
If you're really thirty years ahead...
Can you tell me one thing?
Does this library still exist?"
His smile faded.
Such a simple question.
Yet somehow...
It felt incredibly heavy.
He picked up his pencil.
"Yes.
I'm sitting in it right now.
The shelves are still here.
The old clock still ticks.
Someone carved "M + E" into the third table near the window.
No one has removed it."
He paused.
Then added one more sentence.
Some things survive longer than people expect.
He slipped the note back inside the novel.
Closed it.
Returned the book.
Seven days later...
Her answer was waiting.
"I checked the table.
There's no carving.
You must be teasing me."
Liam frowned.
No carving?
He walked across the reading room.
The old oak table stood beneath the window.
Exactly where it always had.
He ran his fingers beneath the edge.
Nothing.
The letters...
Were gone.
His heart skipped.
Yesterday...
The carving had been there.
He was certain.
He had traced it with his fingertips while waiting for Hannah's reply.
Now...
The wood was perfectly smooth.
He rushed back to the book.
Another sheet of paper waited.
"I carved it myself today.
Now maybe someone thirty years from now will wonder who M and E were."
Liam's eyes widened.
He turned around.
Ran back to the table.
The carving had appeared.
Fresh.
Sharp.
The wood shavings still lay on the floor.
His breath caught.
It had changed.
Right in front of him.
For the first time...
He didn't just believe Hannah.
He watched the past...
Rewrite his present.
That night...
He couldn't sleep.
Instead...
He searched old newspaper archives.
Ashcroft.
Nothing unusual.
Then...
One article caught his attention.
LOCAL STUDENT WINS STATE WRITING COMPETITION
A small black-and-white photograph accompanied the story.
A sixteen-year-old girl stood proudly beside the library entrance.
Long brown hair.
Blue cardigan.
Bright smile.
Hannah.
Liam smiled.
"So you were real."
Then...
His smile disappeared.
The date.
June 19, 1995.
Exactly one week after her last letter.
He looked closer.
Something else caught his attention.
Standing in the background...
Almost hidden behind the library doors...
Was another person.
An elderly man.
Gray coat.
Reading a newspaper.
Liam's stomach tightened.
It couldn't be.
The photograph was thirty years old.
Yet...
The old man looked exactly like the man who still sat in the library every Tuesday morning.
Not older.
Not younger.
Exactly the same.
The next Tuesday...
Liam practically ran into the library.
The old man was already there.
Gray coat.
Coffee.
Newspaper.
Exactly like the photograph.
Liam walked over.
"Excuse me, sir?"
The old man slowly lowered his newspaper.
His blue eyes met Liam's.
Calm.
Almost as if he'd been expecting him.
"Yes?"
Liam hesitated.
"I... think I've seen you before."
The old man smiled faintly.
"I'm sure you have."
"Do you come here often?"
"For longer than you can imagine."
Liam laughed awkwardly.
Then asked,
"Were you here in 1995?"
The smile vanished.
For the first time...
The old man looked frightened.
Very quietly...
He asked,
"Who told you that year?"
Liam's pulse quickened.
He almost answered.
Almost said Hannah's name.
Instead...
He lied.
"I saw an old photograph."
The old man stared at him for several long seconds.
Then whispered something so softly Liam almost missed it.
"Don't tell her about the fire."
Liam frowned.
"What fire?"
The old man immediately stood up.
Picked up his newspaper.
Walked away.
Without another word.
Confused...
Liam returned to Echoes of Summer.
Another letter waited.
But this one...
Was different.
The handwriting shook.
Ink stains covered the edges.
As though Hannah had been crying while writing.
"Liam...
Something terrible happened today.
Everyone keeps talking about a fire that's going to destroy the library next month.
Please tell me...
Did anyone die?"
Liam's hands slowly began to tremble.
Because only minutes earlier...
A stranger had begged him...
May you like
Not to tell her...
About the fire.
