Chapter 2

The phantom ache in Liam' s chest intensified, a dull, throbbing pain that felt ancient and deeply familiar. It was the memory of a sword wound, of slow-acting poison, of a heart breaking over and over again. He instinctively pressed a hand to his sternum, the sensation so real it made him gasp. The memories from the pop-up weren't just information, they were experiences now settling into his soul, bringing with them the raw, physical agony of past lives.

He had to stop her. Not just because he loved her-or the woman he thought he loved-but because he couldn't let her parents die. He couldn't let her walk into a disaster she was causing.

He grabbed his phone and called her back. It rang six times before she picked up, her voice dripping with irritation.

"What now, Liam?"

"Chloe, listen to me," he said, his voice urgent. "I'm not kidding. I'm looking at new data coming in right now. The situation is getting worse. You need to call your parents and tell them to leave town for a few days. Just until this passes."

"Oh my god, are you still on this?" she scoffed. "I just got off the phone with my mom. She said it's beautiful, perfect skiing weather. They're laughing at you, Liam. They think you're being ridiculous."

"They don't have the information I do! This isn't a joke!"

"The only joke is you trying to ruin our plans," she snapped back. "I'm already packing. Chad is picking me up in the morning. We're going to have an amazing time, with or without you."

A cold resolve settled over Liam, extinguishing the last flicker of desperate hope. The pop-up was right. She wouldn't listen. She was incapable of it. He felt the emotional connection between them, once a warm and steady flame, flicker and die, replaced by a chilling clarity. He was no longer trying to save his relationship. He was trying to prevent a tragedy.

He took a deep breath. "Chloe, I am going to email you the official data report. It has all the seismic readings, the meteorological projections, everything. Forward it to your parents. Forward it to the town's fire department. I don't care. Just get the information to them."

He could hear her sigh dramatically. "Fine. Send your stupid report. It won't change anything. I'm still going."

"Don't go, Chloe," he said, one last time, his voice flat. "If you go there, you will regret it."

"The only thing I regret is dating a man who's more in love with his computer than with me," she retorted.

Then her voice turned sharp and cruel. "You know what, Liam? I'm sick of this. I'm sick of you and your constant negativity. If you can't support me in something as simple as visiting my own family, then maybe we shouldn't be together."

She was trying to manipulate him, using their relationship as a weapon. In the past, it would have worked. He would have caved, apologized, and done whatever she wanted. But now, with the knowledge of a thousand betrayals echoing in his mind, her words had no power. They were just noise.

"Do what you have to do, Chloe," he said calmly.

His lack of a panicked reaction seemed to enrage her further. "Fine! We're done! When I get back from my trip with Chad, I want your stuff out of my apartment. We are over, Liam. Do you hear me? Over!"

The line went dead.

Liam lowered the phone slowly. He felt a strange sense of detachment, a quiet calm in the eye of the storm. The pain of the breakup was a distant echo compared to the immediate, pressing reality of the coming disaster.

He didn't waste another second. He typed up a concise, urgent summary of his findings, attached the raw data files and predictive models, and sent the email to Chloe. He knew she probably wouldn't even open it, but he had to do it. He had a record.

Then, he sent the same email to his boss, Mr. Davis, with a subject line in all caps: URGENT: IMMINENT AVALANCHE DANGER FOR CRESTWOOD. IMMEDIATE EVACUATION RECOMMENDED.

He had done his part as her boyfriend. Now he had to do his part as a professional. He wouldn't let her drag him down with her.