The cafe clock reads 2:14. Vesna has lived this same hour four times. Across the room, a man stirs cold coffee and smiles at her. His name is Calder, and he comes from a future that erases hers. He was sent back to cut one second out of history. She was sent to do the same to him. They both know it. Neither one moves. Whoever acts first, in the right second, wins. The loser's whole world just stops.

Vesna decides to talk first. She picks up her cup, crosses the room, and sits down across from Calder like an old friend. "Four loops now," she says quietly. "You keep dying at 2:15. So do I. Maybe we're both wrong about which second matters." Calder's smile stays put, but his hand moves under the table.

Calder lets go of whatever was under the table. "You think the target is each other," he says. "It isn't. The second we're both fighting over belongs to someone else in this room." He nods toward the counter, where a tired woman is paying for tea and checking her watch.

Vesna looks at the tired woman. "Her? Why does one second of her life matter?" Calder says, "In your future, she lives and signs a treaty. In mine, she trips at 2:15, misses her meeting, and a war ends a different way." The woman picks up her tea and turns toward the door.

Vesna stands and walks straight to the woman. She catches her elbow just before the doorway. "Careful," she says, "the step's slick." The woman smiles, thanks her, and walks out safe. The clock clicks to 2:15. Nobody dies. Then Calder joins her on the sidewalk, his device dark. "My future is gone," he says, "but maybe a new one starts here." The hour, at last, moves on.