Mara won't wait for the dates to match. She tears the slip in half. The ink stops crawling and bleeds off the paper into nothing. Both women look down at their hands, still there, both still breathing. 'You broke it,' the other Mara says, almost laughing. The timer on the dash just stops. No more drop, no more loop, just two women alone in a wet parking lot, free.

The dates crawl closer and Mara feels herself thinning, like the rain is starting to fall straight through her. The other Mara grabs her hand and holds on tight. 'Take mine,' Mara says. 'You finish the route.' When the dates lock, only one woman stands in the lot, holding two sets of memories and one steady heartbeat. She gets in the car and drives the package home.