Mara fixed watches in a little shop that smelled of brass and old oil. On Wednesday she buried her brother Tomas, who had stepped under a delivery truck on Tuesday. That night she sat alone and wound the dead clock he'd left her. The mainspring caught hard, like it snagged on something. Then every hand in the shop began spinning backward.

Mara let go of the clock and backed away, heart pounding. The hands kept spinning on their own. A second Mara stood in the shop doorway, soaked in rain, staring at her. "Don't touch the clock," the other Mara said. "It already cost me everything."

Mara stared at her soaked twin. "What do you mean, it cost you everything?" The other Mara stepped closer, dripping rainwater that vanished before it hit the floor. "Every time you wind it, a copy of you stays trapped on Tuesday. We never leave. We just watch the truck, over and over."

Mara understood now. To save Tomas, one version of her would have to stay behind forever, guarding that street. The other Mara held out her hand. "I'll take this Tuesday. You take him home and live." Mara grabbed her brother's future and ran, leaving a piece of herself behind to keep him safe.