Chapter 33 · No More Rewinds

"He's not dead."

Emma's voice cut through the ringing in Mark's ears. He was still holding the gun, barrel warm, Kyle's body crumpled three feet away on the warehouse floor. Blood spread dark under the sodium lights.

"What?"

"He's not dead," Emma said again. She hadn't moved from where she stood, ten feet back, hands loose at her sides. "You shot him. He dropped. And in about ninety seconds, he resets. We're back at Tuesday morning. You forget. He remembers."

Mark looked down at Kyle. The man's chest wasn't moving. The blood was real. Mark's hand was shaking.

"Emma, I just—"

"You just gave him another retry." She stepped forward, boots loud on concrete. "That's what he wants. That's what he's always wanted. You pull the trigger, he dies, clock rewinds, he comes back smarter. Seventeenth try, Mark. He told you that himself."

Mark's throat was dry. "Then what the hell was I supposed to do?"

"Give me the gun."

He stared at her. Emma's face was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that came after you'd already made the choice and you were just waiting for everyone else to catch up.

"Emma—"

"Give me the gun, Mark.