ed. It was meant to look perfect, the home of a brilliant astrophysicist and his elegant wife. In my first life, I had tried so hard to fill the silence, to

It was a large, comfortable room, b

watching me. "What are you d

ement, a matter of national security. We don' t need to pretend when we' re a

even a hint of hurt-but it was gone as quickly as it appe

hispers of distant galaxies, I could almost forget the hollow reality of my life on Earth. My knowledge from the future gave me an edge. I knew which theories would pan out, which celestial events wer

ng dining table, the clink of silverware the only sound. We passed in the hallways with polite, empty nods. It was a cold war fought with si

e Arecibo telescope. The door was slightly ajar. I heard Sophia' s voice from the

ng for more access. He mentions Miller' s project constant

work. A cold chill ran down my spine. Thompson' s

rk, a public place. I can keep him calm. But Thompson needs to give me more la

isk. But it' s the only way

n my gut. Cover story or not, the thought of her with him, of her using that soft, reassuring tone with him, was agonizing. It was the same pat

my head. I' ll meet with him tomorrow. The park. Against my better judgment, I left t

ere sitting on a bench by the water, just like any other couple enjoying a sunny afternoon. My car was parked far enough awa

and took her hand. My own hands clenched on the steering wheel. Sophia didn' t pull

e smiled

ider, they looked like lovers having a difficult conversation. To me, it was a dagger to the heart. This was her job. This was her mission. I knew that. But watc

dn't reach me, but I saw her shoulders shake, her head tilt ba

e profound, soul-crushing weight of betrayal. It didn' t matter that it was a lie for a greater good. It felt real. The pain was real. I started the car and dro