By morning, the words from the journal still haunted her. She tried to push them away as she worked, but they followed her like a whisper. The wounded were recovering, and the soldiers prepared to move again. Nathan walked through the camp giving quiet orders. When their eyes met, she saw the same mix of curiosity and worry in his gaze.

Thomas noticed her distraction. “You look like someone who’s carrying a secret too heavy to hold.”

She forced a smile. “Maybe I am.”

“You could tell the captain,” he said. “He listens more than most men.”

“I already did,” she admitted. “Now I’m not sure if I should have.”

That afternoon, while washing bandages by the river, she heard Nathan’s voice behind her. “We ride tonight,” he said. “Scouts found enemy movement near the bridge. We’ll head there before dawn.”

“You’re taking the wounded?”

“Only those who can move. The rest will stay under guard.” He hesitated. “I want you to stay here, Emily. It’s safer.”

She shook her head. “You’ll need help. I’m coming.”

He sighed. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

When night fell, the soldiers moved quietly through the trees. The air was damp, the moon hidden behind clouds. Emily followed in a wagon filled with supplies. She kept one hand on the brass key, the other gripping the edge of the seat.

At the riverbank, they set up a small post near the bridge. Nathan studied his map while Emily helped the men settle. Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the darkness. Gunfire. The rebels were closer than expected.

“Get down!” Nathan shouted.

Emily dropped behind a wagon as bullets tore through the night. Chaos erupted. She crawled to a fallen soldier, pressing her hands to his chest. “Stay with me,” she said, but his breathing was shallow. The key around her neck pulsed again, faint but steady. She closed her eyes and focused. The bleeding slowed, his heartbeat steadied.

When she opened her eyes, Nathan was beside her, firing his pistol with one hand while shielding her with the other. “You should’ve stayed back!” he yelled.

“You need me!” she shouted back.

They moved together through the smoke, helping who they could. When the gunfire finally faded, the bridge still stood, and the rebels retreated. The soldiers cheered weakly, too tired to celebrate.

Nathan sat beside her on the ground, breathing hard. “You saved him again.”

“I just did what I could.”

He turned toward her, his voice low. “If that key truly has power, then you have a choice to make. You can use it to go back home—or stay here and change this world.”

Emily looked at the key, then at the faces of the soldiers resting by the fire. She thought of the world she came from, full of noise and lights, and this one, raw and human. “I don’t even know if it works anymore.”

“Maybe it only works when your heart decides where it belongs,” he said quietly.

She met his eyes. The world around them faded into the sound of the river and the rustle of trees. For the first time, the thought of going home no longer felt simple.

She whispered, “What if I belong to both?”

Nathan smiled faintly. “Then time has a harder choice than you do.”

The fire crackled between them. The key glowed once, soft and uncertain, as if listening.