The next morning, Aria felt uneasy the second she opened her eyes. She had dreamed of the clock tower again—its hands moving backward, slowly, as if time itself wanted to undo something.
When she went downstairs for breakfast, her heart skipped. The loaf of bread on the counter, the one she had baked two days ago, was still warm. She pressed her hand against it, pulling back quickly as though it had burned her.
"This isn't normal," she whispered to herself.
Outside, the air felt strange. Not colder or warmer, just… heavier. The kind of air that made you want to take shallow breaths.
She spotted Asher on the corner near the little carpenter's shop where he worked after school. Just seeing him eased her nerves.
"Asher!" she called, jogging toward him.
He turned and gave her his usual calm smile. "Morning."
Her steps slowed when she reached him. "Did you hear it too? The ticking last night?"
He hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. I heard it."
Aria's stomach twisted. So it hadn't been her imagination.
They walked to school together, their shoes crunching softly on the pavement. But instead of their usual chatter, the silence between them felt heavy. People passed them on the street—talking, laughing, going about their lives—but everything seemed slightly off. The movements were too precise, the voices too even.
When they reached the school gates, Aria finally broke the silence with a weak laugh.
"If this was a movie, we'd be the two weird kids who notice the end of the world first."
Asher smirked faintly. "And no one would believe us until it was too late."
Her chest loosened a little at his joke, and she smiled back. Somehow, being with him made everything feel less terrifying.
The day went on, but the strangeness didn't stop.
In math class, the clock on the wall showed 10:15 for nearly half an hour. Their teacher froze mid-sentence for a few seconds, staring blankly at the chalkboard before suddenly continuing as if nothing had happened.
Aria's pencil nearly slipped from her hand. She leaned toward Asher. "Did you see that?"
He didn't even look at her. "I saw."
Later, in history class, a bird flew past the window—and for the briefest moment, it stopped mid-air, wings stretched wide, before flapping again and disappearing out of sight.
Aria's breath caught. "Oh my God."
This time Asher's hand brushed hers under the desk, steady and calm.
"Don't panic," he whispered. "Just… stay with me."
Her cheeks warmed, but she didn't pull away. His touch, simple as it was, grounded her.
At lunch, they escaped to their favorite spot—a tall oak tree that stood near the back of the schoolyard. Its wide branches made a blanket of shade, and someone long ago had carved a little bench into the roots. Not many students came here, which made it feel like it belonged to just them.
Aria leaned back against the trunk. "At least this place feels normal."
Asher sat down beside her, dropping his backpack onto the grass. "Yeah. For now."
They ate in silence for a while, watching the sunlight flicker through the leaves. The air felt different here—still strange, but calmer, almost safe.
After a moment, Aria turned to him. "What if… something is wrong with time itself?"
He looked at her, eyes serious but gentle. "Then we'll face it. One step at a time."
She gave a small, nervous laugh. "You make it sound easy."
"It's not," he said softly. Then, after a pause, "But you're not alone, Aria. You've got me."
Her breath caught. He said it so simply, but it felt like the most important promise in the world.
She wanted to say something back, but before she could, a faint sound cut through the air.
Tick.
They both froze.
Aria's head snapped toward the clock tower in the distance. The hands were still stuck at 6:03. But she knew—she had heard it.
"Asher," she whispered, "did you—"
"I heard it," he said, voice low and steady.
For a moment, the world around them seemed to pause. The laughter of other students, the rustle of leaves, even the wind—all of it went silent, as if the universe was holding its breath.
Then, just as quickly, life continued as if nothing had happened.
Aria's pulse raced. She looked at Asher, and for the first time, he didn't hide the worry in his eyes.
But he gave her a faint smile anyway. "Don't be scared. Whatever this is… we'll figure it out. Together."
She nodded, clutching the edge of the bench beneath the tree. Deep down, she knew this moment—this tree, this promise—would stay with her, no matter what came next.
Because something was coming. And the world would never be the same.