Chapter 33: Cracker
EL'S APARTMENT – 7:45 AM – SATURDAY
El stared at his phone.
Not because anyone was texting him.
Because he was avoiding the ceiling.
The ceiling had become an enemy lately. Too white. Too empty. Too much like the questions he couldn't answer.
Oreo was still curled at his feet, oblivious to his existential crisis. Lucky cat.
He scrolled through the work chat.
Nothing new. Just Janet from Accounting complaining about the coffee machine again. Mark threatening to quit again. Demi being Demi again.
Normal things.
Ordinary things.
Things that didn't involve time loops and dying gardens and lost Tuesdays.
He almost put the phone down.
Then a notification popped up.
YASSY O: Good morning, everyone. I'm still alive. Barely. But alive.
The chat exploded.
MARK: YASSY! YOU'RE BACK!
JANET FROM ACCOUNTING: We thought you'd been abducted by aliens.
DEMI: OR WORSE. TRANSFERRED TO LESIVE.
YASSY O: Neither. Just my immune system trying to kill me again.
DEMI: AGAIN? YOU MAKE IT SOUND LIKE A HOBBY.
YASSY O: It's not a hobby. It's a full-time job. Very demanding. No paid leave.
El stared at the screen.
Yassy.
He hadn't heard from her in weeks.
She was his direct supervisor. Manager of market research. Perfectionist. Demanding. Sharp.
But fair.
She'd been on sick leave since before the loops started.
Before everything started.
He typed.
EL: How are you feeling?
YASSY O: Like I've been run over by a truck. Then the truck backed up. Then it ran over me again for good measure.
DEMI: THAT'S VERY SPECIFIC.
YASSY O: I've had a lot of time to think about metaphors.
JANET FROM ACCOUNTING: What exactly do you have?
A pause.
YASSY O: Autoimmune. My body thinks it's a horror movie villain and keeps attacking itself.
DEMI: THAT'S... DARK.
YASSY O: That's chronic illness. It doesn't care about your feelings.
MARK: So when are you coming back?
YASSY O: Monday. If I don't collapse before then.
DEMI: WE'LL PREPARE A PARADE.
YASSY O: Please don't. I hate parades.
DEMI: FINE. WE'LL PREPARE A MODESTLY SIZED GATHERING WITH LUKEWARM APPLAUSE.
YASSY O: That's more my speed.
El almost smiled.
Yassy.
She was the reason his reports were always perfect. She'd taught him the patterns. The systems. The attention to detail.
She'd seen something in him years ago — when he was just another quiet assistant who didn't talk much.
"You notice things," she'd told him once. "That's rare. Don't waste it."
He hadn't forgotten.
---
THE GROUP CHAT – CONTINUED
MIRA: Yassy. Glad you're recovering.
YASSY O: Mira. Still running the circus?
MIRA: Someone has to.
DEMI: I'M THE CLOWN. IN CASE ANYONE WAS WONDERING.
YASSY O: I wasn't.
DEMI: ...FAIR.
JANET FROM ACCOUNTING: How's El been doing? He's been quiet lately.
El's thumb froze.
Janet noticed.
Janet from Accounting noticed.
How?
YASSY O: El? You there?
He typed:
EL: I'm here.
YASSY O: Glad you're there. First of all, thank you for your work. I heard the report you submitted yesterday was excellent.
El blinked.
She heard about it.
Even while she was sick.
She's been watching.
He typed:
EL: No, it's nothing. It's thanks to your guidance.
DEMI: HEY HEY HEY! KNOCK KNOCK. WE'RE ALSO HERE IN THE GC.
MIRA: Don't be modest, El. It's thanks to your skills and talent that the report received an excellent review from the higher ups.
DEMI: OH, I SMELL SOMETHING FISHY.
THÉO: I just took a shower.
HOPE: I hate fishy smells.
MIRA: YOU SHOULD TAKE A BATH, DEMI.
YASSY O: Mira's right, El. Don't be modest. I didn't train you to be modest. But maybe... I am?
El stared at the screen.
Yassy being self-aware?
That's new.
That's terrifying.
He didn't want the conversation about his report to continue, so he typed:
EL: Anyways, I'm glad you're back, ma'am.
YASSY O: Yeah.
YASSY O: I've missed you guys. I'll bring cracker snacks on Monday for all of you.
Cracker.
The word hit El like a physical blow.
Cracker.
The one from the old woman. The one that glowed. The one that opened the way toward Kaye.
And now it's gone.
Demi ate it.
Just... ate it.
Like it was nothing.
He stared at the screen.
The cracker is gone.
But Yassy is bringing crackers.
Different crackers.
Ordinary crackers.
Normal crackers.
Crackers that won't open doors to dying gardens.
Crackers that won't help him find Kaye.
DEMI: YOU KNOW I LOVE CRACKER SNACKS.
YASSY O: I know. That's why I'll bring them on Monday.
DEMI: OH, HOW THOUGHTFUL OF YOU! CAN YOU BE MY DIRECT BOSS TOO?
YASSY O: You know Mr. Labrador can read your messages, right?
DEMI: MR. LABRADOR KNOWS THAT I'M JOKING. HEHE.
MIRA: I think he thinks you're serious about that, Demi.
---
EL'S APARTMENT – 8:15 AM
El set his phone down on the kitchen table.
The screen went dark.
He stared at it for a moment.
Cracker.
The word still echoed in his head.
The cracker is gone.
The door is closed.
Kaye is still fading.
And I'm still here.
Still stuck.
Still waiting.
He stood up.
Oreo meowed from the couch, demanding attention.
"I know," he said. "I'm getting there."
He walked to the kitchen. Opened the freezer. Pulled out a frozen burrito.
Thirty seconds in the microwave. Flip. Thirty more seconds.
Breakfast of champions.
He set it on a plate. Poured himself a cup of black coffee — his espresso, dark and bitter, the way he liked it.
He ate standing up. Staring out the window.
The city was waking up. Cars. People. Normal lives.
None of them are trapped in time loops.
None of them are searching for a girl who might not exist.
None of them lost a Tuesday.
He finished the burrito. Drank the coffee.
Then he washed the plate. The mug. The fork he didn't use.
Oreo meowed again.
"Fine. Fine."
He opened a can of wet food. Scooped it into her bowl.
She attacked it like she hadn't eaten in weeks.
"You're dramatic," he muttered.
She ignored him.
He looked around the apartment.
Dishes done. Cat fed. Coffee consumed.
Now what?
Now I wait.
Wait for Monday.
Wait for Yassy.
Wait for answers.
He picked up his phone.
Scrolled through the group chat again.
Nothing new. Just Demi being Demi. Mark complaining. Janet worrying.
Normal things.
Ordinary things.
Things that didn't involve time loops and dying gardens and lost Tuesdays.
He set the phone down.
Looked at the ceiling.
Monday.
Yassy is coming back.
She'll notice something's wrong.
She always notices.
---
YASSY'S APARTMENT – SAME TIME
Yassy set her phone down on the table.
She stared at the screen for a long moment.
El.
He sounded different. Distant. Tired.
More tired than usual.
She'd read his report while she was sick. Couldn't sleep. Needed something to distract her from the pain.
It was perfect.
Better than perfect.
He's grown.
He's always been good. But this was different.
This was exceptional.
She thought about the conversation.
"No, it's nothing. It's thanks to your guidance."
Modest.
Too modest.
Something's wrong.
She picked up her phone again. Scrolled through older messages.
Nothing obvious. Just work stuff. Deadlines. Templates. The usual.
She set the phone down.
Looked out the window.
Monday.
I'll see him Monday.
She picked up her coffee. Took a sip.
Cold.
Just like El's lukewarm life.
But not for long.