"18 hours from now, your body will experience destruction mode. You will then be returned to the 21st century."Hearing the system's mechanical voice, I felt a brief daze wash over me. Softly, I murmured, "Okay. I'll wait for you."After clearing the mission, I chose to stay behind in this other world—in its version of the 1980s—for my husband, Mark Chapman.I had thought I wouldn't hear from the system until the day I died of old age, so it had come as a surprise that it would show up so soon.Just then, Mark walked in, still in his military uniform, holding our daughter, Joanne Chapman's small hand. His posture was straight as ever, his features sharp and handsome.He looked at me, confusion in his eyes. "Honey, who did you say you were waiting for?""It's nothing. Just talking to myself," I answered, lowering my gaze.The dishes on the table had already gone cold. I took a few casual bites of the birthday cake and quietly wished myself a happy 30th birthday. At that, both Mar
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