Rewind Twice Novels & Stories

I leaned closer, cradling Milly's head against my chest while her hands skillfully moved on their own to massage without needing to be asked. I deliberately whispered in her ear hoarsely, "Imagine if that... was swiped here...." Watching her observe Aryo's self-stimulation, I'm sure Milly was also tempted to the point of not realizing that my forefinger was rubbing her backside. "Up and down. Until it breaks inside ...." I continued, slipping just one finger into Milly's back. Ah, it turns out she's been through this too. Milly's back arched like a wet and slippery slide. She offered no resistance other than swearing in a language I didn't recognize. Swear, from the intonation of her voice.

Back when we were just Gregory and Stephanie. I traced the edge of her smile with my finger. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I was so scared of losing control, of being vulnerable, I didn’t realize I was already losing you.” I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. History was repeating itself. I had driven her away once when I rejected her. Now I had driven her away again, only this time, she might never come back. I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t or even gave her heart to someone else or even chose Davies.

The timeline continued from early afternoon to evening, but nothing felt out of place. Then, it flickered. I pressed rewind, my pulse racing. The screen glitched. Just for a second. I rewound again, but slower this time. The images stuttered, stopped, then leaped ahead as if nothing had happened. I ground my teeth, rewound for a third time, squinting at the precise instant the footage breached. A two-second gap. It was a perfect, seamless cut. The video had been doctored. I took a slow breath, willing myself to think.

No rewriting necessary. We may get an opportunity now after many weeks have passed.

It was rewriting the code. And the story was finally starting to remember who held the cursor.

he said, somewhat confused as to why we were just staring at a box. “Exactly,” I nodded. Silence lingered for about a second or two. “Which is exactly what it’s supposed to—” “Keep playing,” I interrupted him, and the footage resumed. Seconds passed…then a minute. And then two…still nothing. Then…. Jose sat up straighter. “…Wait,” he interjected. The technician frowned. “Here?” The technician asked. Jose pointed at the screen. “Go back two seconds,” he said. The footage rewound and played again. Jose leaned closer, his eyes squinting.

I close the page, return back there again and retry, end up on nothing again. I spin it fifteen more times with no luck. It is either rigged or I just have no luck. Sighing, I drop the phone, hoping both of them are safe.

Fiona quickly leaned over, her face a mask of confusion, “What is it, Miss Rhea? What are you looking at?” I sighed, a long, weary exhalation that was half frustration, half dawning understanding. This was exactly why no one had seen anything. It wasn't about what was missing; it was about what was duplicated. “Play it again.” I instructed, my voice slow and deliberate now, “And watch the timestamp. Very carefully.” I pointed to the small digital counter in the corner of the screen, “Now, watch this specific spot in the background, right beside the red car.”

Ace explained before pausing. --To be continued…