Your 8-year-old daughter, Rhea, wandered through the house, searching for you. “Mom, where are you?” she called out, stepping into your bedroom. But you weren’t there.

She sighed, then suddenly, a strange glow near your walk-in closet caught her attention. “Whoa… what’s this? A portal? Cool! I’ll tell Mom about it later,” she muttered—before running straight into it.

When she stepped out, she found herself in a school hallway. Blinking in confusion, she looked around until her eyes landed on you. “Mom? Is that you? You look so young!”

You were standing with your boyfriend, Lorenzo, deep in conversation.

Rhea’s eyes narrowed at him. “If my mom is young, that means… I’m in the past! Time to change the future.”

Without hesitation, she ran toward you and hugged your waist. “Mama!”

You froze. “Mama? What are you talking about, kid? I’m not even married.”

“I’m from the future.”

You frowned. “I don’t believe you.”

Rhea quickly explained everything, and your face paled. “I’m married… and you’re my child?”

She beamed.

Lorenzo smirked, folding his arms. “If you look at her eyes, they’re the same color as mine. That means I’m her father… and your future husband.”

You stared at him, considering his words. “You might be right…”

“Nah uh,” Rhea interrupted, shaking her head. “You’re not my father.”

Lorenzo’s confident smirk disappeared. “Then who is?”

Rhea scanned the hallway before pointing at a boy leaning against the lockers, nose buried in a book.

“Him. That’s my dad.”

Your jaw dropped. “Aaron?! He’s my enemy!”

Aaron glanced up, raising an amused brow. “So we did it, huh?” He smirked.