Love Beyond Time

CHAPTER THREE:THE FIRST CLUE

Lena's POV

The next morning, I woke up with one thought repeating in my mind.

*Find the truth.*

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the floor.

For the first time, I wasn't thinking about how impossible it was that I had returned to the past.

I wasn't thinking about why it happened.

I was thinking about the night I died.

The rain.

The alley.

The gunshot.

Ethan's arms around me.

And the voice.

*Run, Lena.*

I grabbed my notebook from the desk and opened it.

I had written down everything I remembered.

But there were too many gaps.

I knew where I died.

I knew approximately when.

I knew Ethan was there.

But I didn't remember who pulled the trigger.

I didn't remember why we were in that alley.

And most importantly...

I didn't remember what happened before the gunshot.

Something had to be there.

A reason.

A clue.

I began writing down questions.

*Why were Ethan and I in the alley?*

*Who knew we were there?*

*Who wanted me dead?*

I stared at the last question.

My hand trembled.

I crossed it out.

Then I wrote something else.

*Who was the real target?*

I remembered the gun being pointed toward Ethan.

That was why I stepped in.

I thought someone was trying to kill him.

But if the gun was aimed at Ethan...

Why did I feel like I was the real target?

I couldn't explain it.

My memories were like pieces of broken glass.

Every time I tried to put them together, they cut me.

I closed the notebook.

I needed to start somewhere.

At school, I tried to act normal.

It wasn't easy.

Every hallway seemed familiar.

Every classroom reminded me of memories I hadn't realized I still had.

I walked toward my locker.

Then I stopped.

There was a small black mark on the floor.

I stared at it.

Something about it felt familiar.

I couldn't remember why.

I crouched down.

There was a small piece of paper beside it.

I picked it up.

At first, I thought it was trash.

Then I saw the handwriting.

My handwriting.

My heart skipped.

There were only four words written on it.

**DON'T TRUST HIM.**

I froze.

I looked around the hallway.

Students were walking past me, laughing and talking.

Nobody seemed to notice me.

I stared at the paper again.

My handwriting.

But I didn't remember writing it.

My fingers tightened around the note.

Who was "him"?

Ethan?

Someone else?

I immediately thought about the previous night.

*You shouldn't have trusted him.*

The mysterious voice.

The warning.

Was this connected?

I quickly placed the note inside my notebook.

Then I heard footsteps behind me.

"Lena?"

I nearly dropped everything.

I turned around.

Ethan.

He stood there with a smile on his face.

"Why are you standing here?"

I forced myself to smile.

"Nothing. I just dropped something."

He glanced at my hand.

"What did you drop?"

"Nothing important."

His eyes remained on me for a moment.

Then he smiled.

"You're acting strange again."

"I've just been thinking."

"About what?"

I hesitated.

"About the past."

His expression changed.

Only for a second.

But I noticed.

"What about the past?" he asked.

I looked directly into his eyes.

"Do you remember the alley near the old train station?"

He went quiet.

My heart began pounding.

Then he laughed softly.

"Why are you asking about that?"

"I don't know."

I lied.

He looked away.

"I haven't been there in a long time."

"Have we ever been there together?"

Another pause.

"Maybe."

His answer was too quick.

I studied his face.

He was hiding something.

Or maybe...

I was simply becoming paranoid.

"Why are you asking me these questions?" he asked.

I lowered my eyes.

"I had a strange dream."

"A dream?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

I looked at him.

For a moment, I wanted to tell him everything.

I wanted to tell him that I had died.

That I remembered his arms around me.

That I had come back.

That someone was warning me about him.

But something stopped me.

Fear.

"I don't remember."

He smiled.

Then he walked closer toward me and reached for my hand.

I let him touch me.

He kissed it and stared at me with his gentle eyes.

"Maybe you should stop thinking about it."

His voice was gentle.

Almost comforting.

But somehow, his words made me even more uncomfortable.

After class, I decided to visit the old train station.

I didn't know exactly why.

Maybe there was something there.

Something my memories were trying to show me.

The station was almost empty.

The afternoon sky was gray.

I walked slowly along the old path behind the building.

My heartbeat grew faster with every step.

Then I saw it.

An alley.

I stopped breathing.

The image in my mind suddenly became clearer.

Rain.

Darkness.

Running footsteps.

A hand grabbing mine.

Ethan's voice.

*"Keep running!"*

I pressed my fingers against my temple.

Another memory flashed.

We were arguing.

No.

Not arguing.

He was angry.

I couldn't see his face clearly.

But I could hear his voice.

*"You shouldn't have seen that."*

My eyes widened.

What had I seen?

I took another step forward.

Then—

A loud sound came from behind me.

I turned around.

Nobody.

Only an empty street.

I looked back toward the alley.

There was something lying near the wall.

A small metal object.

I approached it carefully.

It was a lighter.

Black.

With a silver symbol engraved on the side.

I picked it up.

The moment my fingers touched it, another memory struck me.

Ethan.

Standing in the rain.

Holding the same lighter.

My breath caught.

"No..."

I dropped it.

My hands began shaking.

I didn't know when the memory happened.

I didn't know if it had happened before my death or after.

But I knew one thing.

The lighter belonged to Ethan.

I had seen it many times before.

Why was it here?

Why did I remember him holding it in the alley?

And why couldn't I remember what happened next?

I quickly picked it up again and placed it inside my bag.

I needed proof.

I needed answers.

And suddenly, I realized something terrifying.

Maybe my memories weren't disappearing.

Maybe someone—or something—was slowly allowing me to remember.

One piece at a time.

I turned toward the street.

Then I saw someone standing at the end of the alley.

A figure.

Watching me.

My heart stopped.

"Hello?"

The figure didn't move.

I took one step forward.

Then another.

But when a car passed between us, the figure was gone.

I stood there, frozen.

My phone suddenly vibrated.

I looked down.

A message.

From an unknown number.

My fingers trembled as I opened it.

There was only one sentence.

**"You weren't supposed to come back."**

My blood ran cold.

I looked around the empty street.

Someone knew.

Someone knew I had returned.

And if they knew...

Then maybe they knew how I died.

I slowly closed my phone.

For the first time, I understood that changing the future wouldn't be as simple as saving myself.

Because someone was already waiting for me.

And perhaps...

They had been waiting for me to remember.