The Time Traveller (Part Four)

She handed the envelope to Emily, who opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a small, faded photograph of two young girls, their arms around each other, standing in front of a cottage that looked remarkably like the one in the watercolour.

Emily gasped. 'Where did you get this?'

'It's been in my family for generations,' Joanna replied. 'My grandmother told me they were distant relatives who died young. She said the older girl was called Emma, and the younger one was Charlotte.'

'Emma,' Emily whispered. 'That was my middle name. Emily Emma Cartwright.'

Joanna's face paled. 'Cartwright was my grandmother's maiden name.'

A heavy silence fell over the room. I looked at my wife with fresh eyes, seeing the subtle resemblance to Emily that I'd missed before – the shape of their eyes, the curve of their jawline.

'You're related,' I said, the realisation dawning. 'Joanna is your... descendant?'

'Impossible,' Simmington muttered, but he didn't sound convinced.

Emily stared at the photograph, then at Joanna. 'But how? Charlotte died childless. And I never married, never had children.'

'Perhaps there was another sibling?' I suggested.

'No,' Emily said firmly. 'Just Charlotte and me.'

Joanna took the photograph back, studying it closely. 'My grandmother said Emma survived the fire but was never the same afterwards. She lived with distant relatives and eventually married a man named Thomas Wilkins.'

Emily shook her head. 'That's not what happened. I didn't survive – not in the conventional sense. I became... this.' She gestured to herself.

'Unless...' Simmington began, his brow creased in thought.

'Unless what?' Emily demanded.

'Unless you did change something,' he said slowly. 'Not enough to save Charlotte, but enough to create an alternate version of yourself who survived normally.'

'That's not possible,' Emily protested. 'You said the past can't be changed.'

'I said it shouldn't be changed,' Simmington corrected. 'But perhaps, in your case, it already has been.'

The implications hung in the air between us. If Emily had already altered her own past, creating the lineage that led to Joanna, what would happen if she succeeded in saving Charlotte completely?

'The photographs,' I blurted. 'They're not just anchors, are they? They're evidence of changes you've already made.'

Emily looked at me, her expression a mixture of hope and fear. 'What do you mean?'

'The woman with the pram in 1905 – that's you, isn't it? But in a life you don't remember living. And this portrait...' I held up the smaller photograph. 'This is you after surviving the fire, in the timeline where you became Emma Wilkins.'

'If that's true,' Joanna said, 'then I exist because of a change Emily already made to history.'

Simmington paced the room, his agitation clear. 'This complicates matters significantly. If Emily has already created a stable temporal loop, then further interference could unravel everything.'

I looked at the photographs in my hand. These fragments of lives both lived and unlived. The weight of what we were discussing—time travel, alternate timelines, the fabric of existence—felt almost crushing.

'So what happens now?' I asked, looking between Emily and the professor.

Emily's eyes were fixed on Joanna, studying her face as if memorising every detail. 'If what you're saying is true, if I already created this timeline where I survived as Emma... then Charlotte's death led to Joanna's existence.'

Joanna shifted uncomfortably. 'Are you saying that if you save your sister, I might never be born?'

'It's more complicated than that,' Simmington interjected. 'The temporal mechanics suggest that—'

'Yes or no, Professor,' Joanna interrupted, her voice uncharacteristically sharp. 'If Emily changes the past and saves Charlotte, do I cease to exist?'

Simmington removed his glasses again, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Most likely, yes. Or you would exist in a form so different from your current self that it would effectively be the same as non-existence.'

The room fell silent. I moved to Joanna's side, taking her hand in mine. Her fingers were cold.

'I never meant to harm anyone,' Emily said quietly. 'I just wanted to save my sister.'

'I know,' Joanna replied, her voice softening. 'I understand that better than you might think. I lost my brother when I was young. Not to fire, but to illness. For years, I dreamed of ways I might have saved him.'

Emily looked up, surprised. 'You never told me that,' I said to Joanna.

She gave a small, sad smile. 'Some pains are too deep to share easily.' She turned back to Emily. 'But I came to accept that his death, terrible as it was, shaped who I am. The person I became, the choices I made—including marrying you,' she squeezed my hand, 'all stemmed from that loss.'

Emily's eyes filled with tears. 'So you're asking me to accept Charlotte's death? To let her burn?'

'I'm asking you to consider that the past, present, and future are more intricately connected than we can comprehend,' Joanna said gently. 'That changing one thread might unravel the entire tapestry.'

Simmington cleared his throat. 'There's something else to consider. The temporal fractures I mentioned—they're not just theoretical. Each time Emily attempts to change the past, the fabric of time itself is damaged. If these fractures grow too severe...'

'What happens?' I asked.

'A cascade failure,' he replied grimly. 'A complete collapse of temporal stability. Not just for Emily or Joanna, but potentially for everyone.'

Emily stood abruptly, pacing to the window. Outside, the night had deepened, the earlier storm now just a distant memory. 'So I'm trapped,' she said, her back to us. 'Doomed to drift through time, witnessing my sister's death over and over, powerless to stop it.'

'Not necessarily,' Simmington said, his voice gentler than before. 'I've been developing a method to stabilise your condition. To anchor you permanently in one time period.'

Emily turned, hope flickering across her face. 'You never told me that.'

'Because it wasn't ready,' he replied. 'And because I feared you would reject it in favour of continuing your attempts to save Charlotte.'

'Would I still be able to travel?' she asked.

Simmington shook his head. 'No. Once anchored, you would exist solely in that time period, ageing normally, living a linear life.'

'Like everyone else,' I murmured.

'Yes,' the professor confirmed. 'Like everyone else.'

Emily returned to the sofa, sinking down heavily. 'And if I refuse? If I keep trying to save Charlotte?'

'Then eventually, the temporal fractures will become too severe,' Simmington said. 'You'll either be lost between times, existing nowhere and everywhere simultaneously, or you'll trigger the cascade failure I mentioned.'

'Neither option sounds particularly appealing,' Emily said with a bitter laugh.

To be continued…