The living room was cloaked in twilight, the hush between sisters heavy with unspoken fears. Yue Lusi sat still, sensing the weight of a storm that had not yet come—but whose thunder she could already hear in her bones.
Across from her, Yue Lu's eyes glistened with something deeper than fear—something final. Her fingers trembled as she pressed a small USB into Yue Lusi's hand, its weight deceptively light.
"Sister," she whispered, her voice brittle, breaking with unshed sorrow. "Take this… and don't give it to anyone. Not yet."
Yue Lusi's brows furrowed. "What is it? What's going on?"
Yue Lu didn't answer directly. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her voice a ghost of itself. "You'll need it. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe not for years. But one day... you'll know."
Yue Lusi wanted to press her, to demand clarity. But something in Yue Lu's eyes—raw, resigned, already halfway gone—stilled her. She nodded slowly, tucking the USB into her coat like a promise she didn't understand.
The Next Day
Outside a run-down grocery store, an old woman approached Yue Lusi with the air of someone who had seen centuries pass. Her steps were slow but sure, her eyes glowing with an ancient fire.
"Child," she said softly, holding out a silver clock necklace, its ornate details shimmering under the fading sun. "Take this."
Yue Lusi blinked. "Why? Who are you?"
The old woman's smile was both gentle and mournful. "Because the weight of regret is a cruel master. And you… you will wish to turn back time."
She placed the necklace in Yue Lusi's palm. It was cool to the touch, impossibly intricate—an artifact of impossible craftsmanship. Gears whirred silently within, encased in a pendant shaped like a tiny, frozen clock. The hands pointed to an hour unknown, unmoving, as if trapped in some significant moment.
"The ChronoKey," the old woman said reverently. "More than a timepiece. It listens. It remembers. It waits."
Yue Lusi looked down at the shimmering relic. "What does it do?"
"It gives you a choice," the woman said, her voice a fading breeze. "When time bleeds, when sorrow spills over, it opens. And when it does... it shows you the road not taken."
"And the key?"
"That," the woman murmured, her form beginning to blur, "unlocks not only time—but the truth buried beneath it."
And then she was gone—vanished into the wind, leaving Yue Lusi with the necklace and a growing sense of dread.
Hours Later
The phone rang like a siren in Yue Lusi's pocket.
She answered—and time stopped.
By the time she reached the scene, chaos had already swallowed the day. Reporters buzzed like vultures. Flashbulbs stung her eyes. Police tape fluttered like the edge of a nightmare. Somewhere nearby, someone was sobbing uncontrollably. Somewhere else, someone whispered, "So young…"
The crimson on the floor was not paint.
It was Yue Lu.
Yue Lusi's knees buckled, a silent scream building in her chest. Her sister's lifeless body lay still, framed by shards of shattered dreams. Her blood—so red, so real—seeped into the wood like an accusation.
"Why…?" Yue Lusi's voice cracked as it escaped her lips. "Why would she…?"
But somewhere deep in her soul, she already knew.
Yue Lu's warning—"Don't open the USB"—wasn't a riddle. It was a desperate plea. It was her last defense against a truth too heavy to bear. But Yue Lusi had ignored it. Had smiled. Had believed tomorrow would come.
Now tomorrow was ashes.
As medics moved with grim efficiency and flashbulbs lit the broken evening, Yue Lusi stood alone in the parlor of her grief. Her fingers clenched the USB like a blade. It felt sharp now—sharp with guilt, with mystery, with untold horror.
She would open it.
She would bleed if she had to.
For Yue Lu.
For the truth.
And as the clock necklace pressed coldly against her chest, Yue Lusi whispered into the silence, "If time still listens… let me change this."
The USB was no longer a secret.
It was her sister's last breath.
It was a door.
And Yue Lusi was ready to step through.