I Traded Seven Years of My Life to Save Her

On Valentine’s Day, I received a package with postage due. Inside the box was nothing but a rusted copper coin and a single sheet of paper. The handwriting was unmistakably my late wife’s. 'Hold this coin. Come at midnight. Pay one year of your life.' I assumed it was some kind of prank and casually tossed the coin onto the coffee table. But suddenly, the copper coin flipped over by itself. I didn’t know what came over me, but then, I clenched the coin in my hand and went back to the intersection where my wife had died. At exactly midnight, the coin burned hot against my palm. Then it started to shake. Through the heavy rain, the familiar white sedan appeared out of thin air. My wife was in the driver’s seat, smiling like she used to. And beside her sat another me, looking at her with all the tenderness I never got to show her again. Neither of them knew that in ten seconds, everything would end. It was the final three minutes I had missed forever. And the final three minutes I would be trapped in forever. And on the back of the coin, two bloody words slowly appeared: 'First Time.' Chapter 1 Three days before Valentine’s Day, I received a package with postage due. I glanced at the sender information. 'Netherworld Express’ Everything else was blank. The recipient was definitely me. Chase Miller. The phone number and address were both correct. “What is it?” I asked. The delivery guy was starting to get impatient. “No idea. Just a box. Pretty light, though…” He paused, then lowered his voice. “But my boss personally told me this had to be delivered directly into your hands. “He said you had to sign for it before midnight.” I stared at the box, wrapped tightly in yellow-brown kraft paper. And for reasons I couldn’t explain, I scanned the code and paid. I placed the box on the coffee table and sat there from afternoon until dark. Outside, it began to rain. Rain this time of year was always like this. Fine, steady, and endless. Three years ago, my wife, Elena Moore, had died on a rainy day just like this. At nine that night, I finally tore open the seal on the box. A strange smell drifted out. It smelled like old incense and moldy wood, like something sealed away for years. There was no foam inside. No packing material. Only a copper coin covered in green rust. I scraped at it with my fingernail until the worn engraving came into view. It looked ancient, more like a ritual token than real currency. When I flipped it over, the back was covered in symbols I couldn’t read. That was it? A worthless old coin? And I had paid twenty dollars in delivery fees for this? I was so angry I almost laughed. But the moment my finger touched the edge of the coin, the chill made me freeze. It was not the ordinary coldness of metal. It was more like touching ice. No. Colder than ice. The cold sank into my bones, numbing my fingers, and I quickly threw it back onto the table. The coin rolled halfway across the coffee table. Underneath it was a folded note. Yellowed rice paper. Small, neat brush-written characters. The ink had already blurred slightly. ‘Hold this coin. Return at midnight, and you may see your late wife one last time.’ ‘The price each time is one year of your life.’ ‘Seven times is the limit. Go beyond that, and you remain forever.’ I stared at those three lines, my mind going blank. A prank? Who would make a joke like this? But that handwriting… I shot to my feet, rushed into the study, and yanked open the bottom drawer. Inside were Elena’s belongings. With trembling hands, I dug out the birthday card she had written me last year. ‘To Chase, on your thirtieth birthday. May you stay strong, steady, and unshaken.’ I placed the note and the card side by side under the lamp. The curve of each turn. The pressure at the end of each stroke. They were identical. My breathing grew heavy. My fingers turned cold. Elena had practiced calligraphy since she was a child. Her handwriting had always been distinctive, especially the letter “t”. She always flicked it upward, like a tiny hook. Every ’t’ on this note was written the exact same way. Outside the window, the sound of rain suddenly grew much louder. Chapter 2 I collapsed into the chair and stared at the copper coin. Then I took a deep breath, grabbed the note, and tried to examine it more closely for any flaw. But the moment I lowered my head, the copper coin I had tossed into the corner of the coffee table suddenly flipped over by itself. The side with the strange symbols faced up. And among those twisted markings, I clearly saw three dark red words slowly appear. 'Return at midnight.' “Return at midnight… return where? How?” I stared at the time on my phone. There was still over an hour until twelve. But if I could really see her again, what was one year of my life? For the past three years, every day had felt like a slow suicide anyway. I washed my face. In the mirror, my eyes were sunken, and I looked like an addict. “It’s fake,” I told my reflection. “All of this is a hallucination.” But the copper coin was heavy in my pocket, pressing against my thigh. A moment later, I left the apartment. For reasons I couldn’t explain, I walked toward the intersection on Central Avenue. It had been three years. I had never gone back. Not because I didn’t want to. Because I didn’t dare. The traffic lights had been replaced. The road had been repaved. Even the convenience store on the corner had changed its sign. But that corner, the spot where Elena had been hit, was something I could still see with my eyes closed. I sat down on the edge of the planter by the sidewalk. Eleven o’clock. I took out the copper coin. The sweat in my palm had dampened it. The smell of rust mixed with a strange, metallic tang. Eleven twenty. I started to wonder if I had lost my mind. Waiting for a car that might never appear, all because of a worthless old coin. Eleven forty. I stood, ready to leave. Then the copper coin in my pocket suddenly turned hot. Not warm. Hot. Like a coal pulled straight from a fire. I sucked in a sharp breath and pulled it out. Midnight. The coin began to tremble. Just a faint vibration, enough to numb my palm. I looked up. And then I saw it. The white sedan. It looked exactly the way I remembered, down to the tiny scratch on the front bumper. That scratch had been left during our first year of marriage, when Elena backed into the stone post outside our apartment complex. She had said we should leave it there as a memory. The car came closer. I could see the faces behind the windshield. Elena was in the driver’s seat. Alive. Her lips were moving. She was talking. There was someone in the passenger seat. My gaze shifted over. And my breath stopped. It was me. I was smiling, turned slightly toward Elena as I spoke to her, the corners of my mouth lifted. This was the final stretch of road we had shared. That day, I had told her we should go to her favorite sushi place for dinner to celebrate our third anniversary. Then, in the next second, the whole world had shattered. I wanted to rush out. But my feet felt nailed to the ground. All I could do was watch. The car drove right past me. Elena turned her head, her gaze sweeping over the sidewalk. She saw me. Then she frowned slightly, her lips moving as if she had said something. I could not hear it. But the version of me in the passenger seat turned to look too. His gaze was calm. As if he were looking at a stranger. Then the car drove past. I stood there, trembling all over. The coin was real. I had really seen her. My phone buzzed. I pulled it out. A news alert lit up the screen. 'BREAKING: Vehicle in Central Avenue Crash Was Using Fake Plates. Registered Owner Died Three Years Ago' I looked up. The white sedan was already dozens of yards away, waiting at the red light. The window was still down. Then, from somewhere very close behind me, I heard someone chuckle. “First time using a death coin, sir?” Chapter 3 I spun around. A man in a dark blue uniform was standing one step behind me. A name was embroidered over the left side of his chest. ‘Netherworld Express.’ In his hand was a small black device that looked like an old card reader, its screen glowing blue. “Malcolm Seven,” he said flatly. “Netherworld Express. Obsession Settlement Division.” I instinctively took half a step back, my spine hitting the streetlamp behind me. “You…” He tipped his chin toward the intersection. “The car’s getting farther away. Want to chase it? I can take you after it.” “The price is one year of your life.” My head buzzed. “What do you mean, one year?” “The first use of a death coin costs one year. Fixed rate.” Malcolm Seven shook the device in his hand. “The three minutes you just saw have already been deducted. Now you have… let me check.” He flicked his wrist. Several lines of text suddenly appeared in front of me. 'Chase Miller. Male. 32 years old.' 'Remaining lifespan: 6 years, 4 months, and 6 days.' 'Current consumption: 1 year. Deducted.' 'Loops remaining: 6/7.' The numbers were blood red, pulsing faintly. “My lifespan only has six years left?” I stared at him, confused. “Yes,” Malcolm said, putting the device away. “And now it’s one year shorter. If you keep using it, it’ll only keep shrinking.” I stared at him. “What kind of scam is this?” “Scam?” Malcolm laughed, but there was no warmth in it. “Reach into your pocket and see what the coin looks like now.” I slipped my hand into my pants pocket. The coin was still there. But it felt different. Colder. Lighter. When I pulled it out, my breath caught. The worn engraving on the front seemed fainter than before. “Every loop makes the engraving fade a little more.” Malcolm lit a cigarette. “After the remaining six chances are used up, the coin will shatter, and you’ll be trapped in the gap between moments.” “What gap?” “The state you were just in.” He exhaled a stream of smoke. “You can see the past. You can hear it. You can even touch it.” “But you can’t change it.” “You’ll be trapped in the few minutes you want to change most, watching them replay again and again until the end of time.” A gust of wind swept over me, and I shivered. “Can I stop it?” “No.” Malcolm’s answer was blunt. “First iron rule of the death coin: established deaths cannot be changed.” “Then what’s the point of this thing?” I shouted. “Just so I can watch her die again?” “For many people, one last look is enough.” Malcolm’s voice was terrifyingly calm. “To say sorry. To say goodbye. Or, in your case, to prove to yourself that you could have done something back then.” He looked at me, something flickering through his eyes. “But Chase, are you sure all you want is to look?” Of course I wanted to save her. For the past three years, I had thought about it every single day. “You want to save her,” Malcolm answered for me. “But it’s useless. You can’t.” “The death coin isn’t a gift.” His voice turned cold. “It’s one last chance for people whose obsessions are too heavy, people who refuse to move on no matter what. “Seven chances. Seven years of your life. “When they’re gone, you either let go, or you stay trapped in the gap forever.” I tightened my grip around the coin. “What if I still want to save her? Am I supposed to just stand there and watch her die?” “You can choose not to watch,” Malcolm said. “Throw the coin away, pretend none of this happened, and go back to your life.” “I can’t.” “Then keep watching.” He flicked ash from his cigarette. “Until you let go. “Or until you burn through all seven years.” Chapter 4 I looked down at the coin. “I’ve already used it once?” I asked. Malcolm said nothing. “What did you mean by ‘six chances’? Didn't I have seven chances?” He was silent for a long time. Then he said, “In your last loop, you already tried to save her.” “You died. So did she.” Malcolm’s words pierced my mind like a needle. “What did you say?” “In your last loop, you saved her.” Malcolm crushed out his cigarette. “Then both of you died. After time reset, your memory was erased, but the coin remembered.” He pointed at the copper coin. “This is your second loop. You have six chances left.” I stared at the coin. “I want to try again.” Malcolm looked at me for a few seconds, then took the black device from inside his coat and pressed a few buttons. “What time point do you want this time?” “The day before the accident.” My voice was dry. “I want to stop her from leaving.” “You sure? It’ll cost one year.” “Do it.” The device beeped. The copper coin suddenly burned hot in my hand, so hot I nearly let go. Then everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in my own bed. My head hurt like someone had taken a hammer to it, and my temples throbbed. I grabbed my phone and checked the time. 'February 10, 2023. 7:18 a.m.' My hand shook, and the phone fell onto my face. I did not care about the pain. I rushed into the living room and turned on the TV. The morning news was airing the weather forecast. The anchor’s voice was bright and clear. “Today is Friday, February 10…” My legs went weak, and I collapsed onto the couch. I was really back. The copper coin was in the pocket of my pajamas. I took it out. The engraving on it had faded even more. I grabbed my phone, found Elena’s number, and called her. Busy tone. I called again. Still busy. I opened my messages and texted her. 'Elena, don’t go anywhere today. Wait for my call.' The message failed to send. I tried every other way to contact her, but it was as if something had cut off every line between us. I changed clothes and rushed out, heading straight for Elena’s company. At nine thirty, I arrived downstairs. The receptionist was new and did not recognize me. “I’m here for Elena Moore, the supervisor in the tech department.” “Ms. Moore took the day off.” The young receptionist checked the record. “She called a little after seven this morning and said there was a family emergency.” Family emergency. Her mother. Three years ago, on this exact day, Elena’s mother had suffered a sudden heart attack and been rushed to the hospital. Elena took time off and went back to her hometown. The next day, on her way back, the accident happened. I ran out of the building and flagged down a cab. “City General Hospital. Hurry.” At ten twenty, I rushed into the hospital’s emergency building. In the hallway outside the third-floor resuscitation room, I saw Elena. One hand was braced against the windowsill. The other held her phone. “…Yeah, Mom’s stable now.” Her voice was soft and tired. “The doctor said it was lucky we got her here in time… Don’t come. Isn’t your project inspection today?” “Remember to eat, okay? Don’t just make instant noodles again… Fine, I know. I’ll be careful.” She hung up and turned around. The moment she saw me, she froze. First there was confusion in her eyes. Then surprise. “Chase?” She frowned. “What are you doing here?” “I…” My throat felt dry. “I heard your mom was sick.” She stared at me for a few seconds. Then she looked away. Chapter 5 “Thank you. But we’re divorced. You didn’t need to come all this way. I can handle it.” Her tone was distant. My mind went blank. We were divorced? Why did I not remember any of it? She checked her watch. “I need to go take care of the paperwork. Thanks for coming. You should go home.” With that, she turned and walked toward the payment counter. “Elena,” I called after her. She stopped but did not turn around. “Tomorrow… when you go back to the city, don’t drive, okay? Take the train.” She turned back, her frown deepening. “Why?” “I… I heard there was an accident on the highway. It’s not safe.” “Who told you that?” “A friend.” I could not keep making things up. “Just don’t drive. Please. I’m begging you.” She stared at me, her eyes complicated. “Chase,” she said softly. “We’ve been divorced for six months. I can handle my own life.” “No, you can’t!” My voice rose. “Something is going to happen to you tomorrow!” People in the hallway started looking over. Elena’s expression changed. “Are you out of your mind?” she said under her breath. “We’re in a hospital.” “I’m not crazy. I’m serious. Tomorrow at 3:17 p.m., at the Central Avenue intersection, you’re going to be hit by a dump truck…” “Enough!” She cut me off, her eyes red. “Chase, when I needed you most, you weren’t there. Now I don’t need you anymore. Can you please stop showing up and acting insane?” She turned and walked away, her pace quick. The next day, I got up early, rented a car-share vehicle, and drove to the area near Central Avenue. 3:40 p.m. In the traffic, I saw Elena’s car. She was driving slowly and steadily. I stood up, my whole body tense. Five minutes left. 3:45 p.m. Elena’s car reached the intersection and stopped at the red light. Just then, from the side road, the dump truck barreled out. Exactly like I remembered. Running the red light. Moving too fast. Heading straight for the driver’s side. I rushed out. With everything I had, I threw myself toward the white sedan. I grabbed Elena’s arm and yanked her out. She screamed as I pulled her from the driver’s seat, sending her stumbling several feet away. Then I heard the impact. A dull, heavy crash. My body flew into the air and spun once. When I hit the ground, I saw Elena scrambling up from the pavement, her face covered in blood as she ran toward me. “Chase! Chase!” She was crying as she dropped to her knees beside me. I could see her. But I could no longer hear anything. Then I saw it. In the oncoming lane, a black SUV suddenly accelerated and came charging toward us. Elena had her back to it. She did not see it. I tried to shout. No sound came out. All I could do was watch as the black SUV slammed into her. Her body collapsed beside mine, limp and broken, one hand still reaching toward me. Then everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on the couch in my apartment. Malcolm sat across from me, holding that black device. “Second loop complete.” He pressed a few buttons. “One year of life deducted. Remaining lifespan: five years, four months, and six days.” I said nothing. My mind was full of that final image. Elena lying beside me, her hand reaching for mine. “In the Book of Life and Death, the words beside her name will always be ‘car accident,’” Malcolm said calmly. “If you help her avoid the dump truck, another vehicle will take its place.” He paused. “That’s the result. Do you still want to try?”