I looked down at the small plate she'd slid toward me.
A single slice of toast, cut into triangles. In my previous life, I had pushed it away, too nauseous to eat, sparking a small argument that had left us both in tears.
If I couldn't change the diagnosis, and if I couldn't warn her about the future, I realized there was only one thing I could change: the memory of this day.
I picked up the toast. My stomach turned at the smell, but I forced a bite. I chewed slowly, swallowing past the lump in my throat.
"It's good, Mom," I said, my voice trembling. "Thank you."
She froze, her back to me. In the original timeline, I had been irritable and distant. My sudden softness caught her off guard. When she turned around, her eyes were shimmering.
"You're such a brave girl," she whispered.
I realized then that Ame hadn't sent me back to save my body. This wasn't a mission to heal the sick; it was a chance to heal the heart. I was here to be the daughter she deserved during the darkest year of her life, even if I had to suffer through it all over again.