He heard the echo first: Harold, why is there a flamingo in the bathroom? The words shimmered in his skull like heat rising off asphalt.

Harold blinked. “The first?”

“Close the loop,” Harold repeated. “You want me to time travel. Again. After the last time literally broke reality.”

His father looked at the glowing thumb. “Ah. That’s new.”

The universe had reset, mostly. But some things had changed. His left thumb now glowed faintly purple when he lied. His neighbor’s cat spoke fluent French but only on Tuesdays. And Harold had developed an unexpected talent: he could hear echoes of conversations that hadn’t happened yet.

Maybe that was enough.