Ismael Kubas

I didn’t expect to wake up in the past.

The weight of my memories pressed down on me like an iron chain, dragging me into a nightmare I had already lived once before. But this time, I knew what was coming. I knew the tragedies, the heartbreaks, the deaths. I had already seen it all.

And now I had a second chance to fix it.

When I first realized I’d been pulled back in time, I didn’t question it. I accepted it for what it was: an opportunity. A chance to undo the things I hadn’t been able to stop, to change the course of the future for the better. I told myself I was the only one with this knowledge. I didn’t even think Gracie could have been affected the same way.

Why would she?

As far as I knew, I was the only one who had the power to change what had happened. The others… they were still living their lives, unaware of the horrors that lay ahead. The children didn’t know what was coming. Carlo didn’t know the responsibilities that would crush him. Carlyn didn’t know the pain she would carry. Aura, Cliff, Wilbert—they didn’t know the losses they would endure.

And Gracie. Sweet Gracie.

My thoughts drifted to her more often than I liked to admit. In the previous timeline, I had kept my distance. She was my father’s wife, and it would have been inappropriate—dangerous, even—to acknowledge the pull I felt toward her. But the more time passed, the harder it became to ignore. Whenever I visited the estate for family outings or estate matters, I noticed the bruises hidden beneath her clothing, the subtle way she flinched when Fritz’s voice boomed through the halls. She never said anything, never confided in me, but I saw it. I saw the pain she carried. And it haunted me.

I should have done something. I should have protected her.

But I stayed silent. I didn’t act. And that was one of my greatest regrets.

Even after Fritz’s death, I kept my distance, thinking it was for the best. But when Carlo’s wedding came, everything changed. That day… the day we found her…

The memories flooded my mind, sharp and bitter.

Carlo’s wedding had been beautiful. At least, that’s what everyone said. The guests were all smiles, the children dressed in their finest, and Carlo stood proudly as the new head of the family, his bride by his side. But something was missing. Someone.

Gracie.

She hadn’t shown up. Despite the tension between us, we all expected her to attend. She may not have received an official invitation, but we’d made sure the maid placed it on her dresser. Even with everything that had happened, we thought she would still come.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The children sensed it too. Aura asked me, in a small, worried voice, why Gracie wasn’t at the wedding. I didn’t have an answer for her. Carlyn, normally so confident, seemed unnerved. Carlo tried to stay composed, but I could see the concern in his eyes.

As the evening wore on and Gracie still hadn’t appeared, I knew we had to do something. After the ceremony, I gathered the children, and together we went to find her.

Her room was empty, the bed untouched, the dresser undisturbed. But when we searched the room, we found the invitation—the one we had been sure the maid left for her—crumpled beneath the bed. How had it ended up there? Had the wind blown it off? Or had someone thrown it under there deliberately?

Panic crept into my chest. She wouldn’t have just left. Not without saying goodbye.

We rushed to the stables, hoping to catch her before she disappeared from our lives entirely. We wanted to explain, to apologize. But as we reached the edge of the estate, we saw her carriage, standing still by the treeline.

At first, we thought she had stopped to rest or perhaps reconsider. But when we walked closer, I felt a wave of dread settle over me, cold and suffocating.

Her carriage door was open, the driver nowhere to be seen. And then I saw it—her body.

Gracie lay crumpled near the carriage, blood pooling around her. She had been stabbed multiple times, the viciousness of the attack clear from the deep wounds that marred her body. A knife was still lodged in her back, glinting cruelly in the fading light.

I couldn’t breathe. My legs gave out beneath me as I dropped to the ground beside her, my hands trembling as I reached for her. The children were crying, their sobs breaking through the numbness that had settled over me. Carlo, Carlyn, Aura, Cliff, Wilbert—they all gathered around her, but it was too late.

She was gone.

I hadn’t protected her. I had let her slip through my fingers, and now she was dead.

The guilt hit me like a tidal wave, drowning me in its depths. All the moments I hadn’t acted, all the times I had stayed silent instead of stepping in—it was all coming back to haunt me. I had failed her in life, and now, I had failed her in death.

“Gracie,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

But my apologies meant nothing. She was already gone.

The days that followed were a blur. I don’t remember much from the time between finding her body and bringing her back to the estate. All I knew was that the children were broken, their grief palpable as we carried Gracie’s lifeless form back home.

Carlo had tried to remain strong, tried to hold it together for the sake of his siblings. But I saw the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of his failure. He had been too harsh on her. We all had.

We should have been kinder. I should have told her I knew about the abuse, and was there for her. I shouldn't have stayed away from Kubas Manor after my father passed. Maybe then she wouldn’t have felt so alone.

The night we brought her back to the estate was silent, save for the sound of the children’s quiet sobs. We laid her in one of the empty rooms, preparing for the funeral that none of us were ready for.

I stood by her side, staring at her still face, my chest tight with regret. I had always kept my distance because of the complicated feelings I harbored for her—feelings I had never allowed myself to fully explore. She was my father’s wife, after all. It had never felt right.

But now, as I looked at her, I realized the depth of my mistake.

I should have loved her. I should have protected her. But instead, I had let her die.

And now, in this second chance, I wasn’t going to let it happen again.

The memory faded, replaced by the present moment, but the weight of it still lingered. The children didn’t know that I had returned from the future. They didn’t know I was here to fix what had gone so horribly wrong.

And I would fix it. I had to.

Because this time, Gracie wasn’t going to die.

Not if I could help it.