He hadn’t seemed to improve at all this whole time she'd been sitting next to him.

"I know Danka’s abroad with Amelia, and that idiot Vladek is running around and probably doing something stupid. And Martha isn’t here for obvious reasons. Did she warn you by the way?"

Daniel wasn’t like the others—not entirely. He wasn’t one of those who returned. He was their Anchor, the person who helped them maintain any semblance of sanity in their situation. He could remember their lives even when his own timeline reset. He could gather knowledge, and process it, and his extraordinary memory and ability to comprehend their return cycles made him their source of information, stability, and support. He could sense when one of the Returners disappeared from the world and when they came back. But it didn’t come without cost. Every change among the people anchored to him hit him hard. Each death left a mark on his health. To simplify, it was as if he had a permanent, unrelenting hangover. Nina’s presence always helped him recover faster. They weren’t sure why, but they suspected that it was because he had awakened as an Anchor when he met Nina, so their connection must have been special.

For both of them, that was ages ago—when Nina returned for the first time, in her second life. On the current timeline, however, it had been only seven years, just after Daniel finished his studies. Regardless of his age, when the Returners he anchored to himself approached him, he already remembered them. He also had a great instinct for recognizing new Returners. Adam had met him when Daniel was just eight years old. Despite his unassuming appearance, the boy had walked right up to the grown, lost man and asked if he died recently and needed help. Since then, Adam had treated Daniel very paternally, watching him grow up and repaying a debt of gratitude.

"She did give me a heads-up," Daniel replied with a sigh. "She called me a day before. But it’s worse than usual; a few days have passed, and nothing’s improving."

He stopped for a moment, listening to Phillip's conversation with a group, and added with a weak smile:

"It’s good you’re here."

Nina could see Daniel wasn’t trying to impose his need for physical contact on her. He sat as close as he could without invading her space. It pained her to see him like this. Despite being well-built, tall, and usually confident, he now seemed fragile and uncertain. His usually well-kept, dark hair was a bit greasy, and stuck to his forehead as he was sweating, fighting the discomfort. 

She felt her heart squeeze a bit. She was good at suppressing her feelings when needed and they both knew, that given their situation, it would be too complicated to act as anything other than friends. But she couldn't resist worrying for him. 

"Did she come back immediately?" she asked.

Some people reappear as soon as they vanish. For others, some time passes. Most often, they restart in the same moment of their lives; less commonly, that moment changes. Nina was one of those who always returned to the same point on her timeline. 

It was just before her 21st birthday when she was coming back from her university campus late at night. Back then, on a park pathway under a broken street lamp, a hooded man attacked her with a knife, trying to steal her purse. She stupidly fought him, so he stabbed her and ran away, leaving her bleeding out near a park bench. She remembered how she started to lose consciousness, hearing some screams far away and people running toward her. Her last sight was a little mouse standing on the grass not far away, alerted by the commotion, tilting its head and watching her as she slowly died.

Nina felt as if she had been sleeping for a very long time, with weird dreams full of knives, purses, and mice. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in the campus library on the same day she died, where she had dozed off while studying, right before she was about to leave. 

She tried leaving later, she tried asking someone to walk with her or taking a different route to the bus stop. She even tried calling the police beforehand to report that she felt she was in danger, but for some reason, it never worked. When she tried to ask some student who was passing by her seat for help, no words came out of her mouth. When she tried to call 911, she couldn't press the call button. When she tried to simply wait, something compelled her to leave the library at the exact same hour as before, following the same path through the park toward the bus stop, as if she were a puppet controlled by someone. 

And the thief was always there to attack her, near the broken street lamp and the bench, as if in some pre-defined game. She tried just giving up the purse, but the man stabbed her anyway as if he was also compelled to not let her escape alive. And there was always the same mouse watching her die. 

After the third time, she started to grow frustrated and angry. 

"Heh, sorry to disturb you again," she said sarcastically as she bled out for the fourth time, lying near the same goddamn bench. She felt a bit grateful for the little creature, as it kept her company until the very end every time. She had the stupid thought that the mouse actually recognized her and was less afraid of her each time. That evening, the little rodent even came closer to her, sniffing intensely, as she passed out from the blood loss.

The time she finally escaped this loop was when she killed the thief herself. She remembered clearly the struggle to win the knife, the chaotic brutal game of survival between them, and finally the feeling of his blood all over her. She was heavily wounded but survived.

And every time she came back to life, back to her twenties, back to the university library, the first thing she needed to do was to kill that man. After a couple of lived lives, it got easier and a bit mechanic. 

She blinked a couple of times to escape these memories. She realized Daniel was looking at her, concerned, and remembered she asked him a question. She couldn't remember what she asked him for, but then she recalled it was about Martha and if she had come back yet. Seems like Daniel replied, but she didn't hear it, lost in her thoughts.

"Sorry, come again?" she asked, trying to focus back on Martha's topic. 

"No, not yet," Daniel repeated his answer. 

Laughter from the other side of the table drew his attention. His gaze focused on the newcomer. Phillip seemed to have relaxed somewhat, chatting with those seated near him. Natalia's great-aunt was also experiencing her first reset. She complained that fate had placed her in her later years and that she would have preferred to start over like her grand-niece. The teenager laughed, saying that in such a case, they might have never had the chance to meet because of the butterfly effect. The group started joking and inventing some ideas on what the woman could potentially do to create a rift in a timeline big enough for her great-niece not to be born. One of the ideas was about her having a romance with the girl's grandfather instead of letting her sister marry him, for which both women gave a big "Ewwww!"

"I’ll try to anchor the new guy today," Daniel muttered, grimacing at the thought. Anchoring looked simple from a viewer's perspective - just a few minutes of physical touch between Daniel and the Returner. But underneath, there was a great mental effort on both sides, especially when Daniel was anchoring a person who already lived a couple of cycles. 

"No, we’re not doing that," Nina objected. "You’re barely holding it together, and I’m not adding to your burden. The guy has just come back, it’s his first time and it's only been a few months since his return. We have time. Besides, let’s get to know him better first, so you don't end up with another Vladek," she patted his leg.

Daniel nodded in gratitude. He also had to be cautious about whom he agreed to anchor. 

Robert returned to the room, carrying a tray of drinks. He was purposely loud, so the group knew someone was approaching, and could change the topic if needed. He was flirting with the waitress, who followed him with a second tray. The young woman smiled shyly but seemed to enjoy their conversation.

"Alright, I’ve got beers and waters, and this lady here has the hot drinks. Apparently, I couldn’t be trusted with them," he laughed at the waitress, and she confirmed his assumption jokingly. 

"Please, just leave everything here, we’ll sort it out ourselves," Robert said, pointing to the corner of the table and sitting down at the edge of the couch, visibly relieved he didn’t have to squeeze back into his previous seat.

The waitress asked if anyone wanted something to eat. As everyone began placing their orders, Nina reached for her coffee, sliding the second one lightly toward Phillip. As usual, Arthur opted for tea. Natalia tried to grab a beer, but her grandmother slapped her hands, whispering for her to maintain appearances and at least wait until the waitress left. The teenager rolled her eyes, adding authenticity to her current teenage persona, and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Technically, I’m older than you," she muttered to the older woman, grabbing the beer glass right after the waitress left.

"What can I tell you? You should have returned later in the timeline," the elderly woman shrugged, reaching for her drink. "Better this way than being old all the time," she concluded bitterly, looking with disdain at her glass of lemonade as if wishing it were wine. "Blood pressure’s a mess, sugar levels spike, and my alcohol tolerance is practically zero."

"Here you go again!" said Natalia, and the group went back to pick on them, this time having Robert join them.

Nina listened to the women bickering as she sipped her latte. Beside her, Daniel slowly and unenthusiastically drank his water. Both of them found comfort in sitting and just listening to the crowd. Arthur also hadn't joined the conversation and listened to the rest. He was looking at Phillip quite intensely as if trying to measure him up. Phillip didn't notice the old man's gaze and was getting louder, laughing with his part of the table. He also apparently decided that enough was enough, and tried to ask some questions about the support group in general. 

"Okay, Phillip," Nina said at some point, drawing attention to herself. She spoke softly to avoid causing discomfort for Daniel. 

As soon as she spoke, everybody stopped talking and looked at her with respect. Nina noticed Phillip being quite surprised by it, and smiled a bit. Looks like during the time she was speaking with Daniel, they hadn't yet played the game of "who lived the longest", or told Phillip about the group's beginnings. 

She also couldn't get used to people treating her as a leader of the group. Sure she was the one who started it, but leadership wasn't quite in her nature. It was rather something she needed to learn with age and experience and for the sake of survival. The people gathered here were loyal and liked each other, but that wasn't always the case among Returners. 

"Now that we’ve gotten to know each other a bit, it’s time to discuss some rules. I’ll explain what’s going on, and you can decide if you want to continue with us or go your own way."

"Sure," Phillip nodded enthusiastically.

"Let’s start with introducing you to this little company called Anchor Ltd," Nina began her story.