He doesn't know when the new writing had appeared, nor does he know why they appear in the first place. But if it was anything like the entry before, it could tell the future, perhaps this time, a future Gabriel could prevent.

He reads the new page.

Why did I say that? Jonan is under so much pressure, yet I slapped him. I told him he needed to control his emotions when I couldn't control my own. He's been deprived of the things he should've been able to take for granted yet, I only made it worse. How can I call myself a mom?

This passage had different handwriting than the first message Gabriel received weeks before. It was much neater, with sharp Y's and G's. But more importantly, it was from Jonan's mother. It was her words.

We've argued again. Why do I always end up saying such mean things? Jonan needs to be able to manage himself, but I've given him so little time. Should I have been more lenient?

The third passage returns to the first handwriting.

Jonan's refusing to go to school now. All of a sudden. He was doing just fine before. Have I made a mistake? I thought allowing him to go to school would get him to hang out with his old friends—

Gabriel stops reading as the car slows to stop. They arrived at home.

He stumbles out of the car, notebook tucked underneath his arm and runs to his room at his father's dismay. He opens the light on his desk and continues to read.

What went wrong, I just don't understand. He was doing so well in rehabilitation. He was always so happy, always so hard working... I was always so proud of him.

The fifth passage was scrawled across the page hastily by a writer who forgot to close his E's and A's, making his vowels indiscernible.

I wonder if Jonan's doing alright... He doesn't even look at me any more, when I try to visit him again. What have I done? But don't I deserve it? I told him I understood his pain when I could not even start to imagine what he must feel. Running was his life and mine too. How could I?

The next passage is filled with trembling letters from a kid who had only recently started to wield a pencil.

I am very sorry. I promise I will be a good sister in the future, I promise that I won't annoy you any more, and I will keep my mouth from talking all the time.

The page stops here, and Gabriel flips to the other side with a solitary line.

Why did you have to leave us

Gabriel stares at this sentence for a long time. It was left unfinished, neither a question nor statement, but these few words, bold upon the feathery pages, settles onto Gabriel's back, like the dust that accumulates inside archaic fireplaces.

It was up to Gabriel's discretion.

He could ignore it, like the first time, and pretend to be innocent until he suffocates underneath guilt, shame, and self-pity.

Gabriel leans over the desk, closing his eyes, and something begins to brew at his core. Sadness and disappointment at himself, anger at the world and its stupid fates, and dread that runs down his spine. Then a paradigm begins to form, and he thinks:

Or I can finally do something about it, or at least try.

Gabriel can't change the past, but he can change the present.

This notebook is not just about him anymore. It was about Jonan and his future.