The coil in the lab sang one note too high, and the air folded like wet paper. When it snapped flat again, Mara felt wrong. Her phone said 9:42. Her sister Ines, three feet away, looked up slowly, like a video still loading. Mara waved. Ines waved back two minutes later. Their clocks matched, but the sisters did not. Mara was ahead now, and she could feel herself sliding further forward.

Mara stayed calm and studied the coil. A small screen on its base showed a number climbing: 2:00, 2:01, 2:02. The gap was growing on its own, slow but steady. The machine was still running, quietly pushing her further ahead of Ines every minute.

Mara found a dial marked 'phase offset' and slowly turned it back. The climbing number paused, then ticked down. 1:59. 1:58. It was working, but the coil started to whine again, that same too-high note. Turn it too fast and the air might fold a second time.

Mara got greedy and cranked the dial hard. The coil shrieked and the air folded again. When it cleared, the gap was gone, but it had flipped: now Ines was two minutes ahead and Mara lagged. They'd traded places, not fixed it. Ines just sighed and reached for the dial herself.