Chapter 21 – Butterfly Affect

The plane hummed softly as it glided through the sky, the only sound inside being the occasional rustling of papers and the low murmur of Matt scrolling through his phone. Anastasia stared out of the window, the weight of what had just happened pressing on her chest like a stone. She thought she had a moment to breathe. That moment shattered when Bastian's voice, low and clipped, pierced through the silence.

"What did Elijah mean back there?"

Her stomach dropped. She didn't turn to face him. "I don't know what you're talking about," she muttered, hoping he'd drop it. Of course, she should've known better.

"Don't," he growled, and that tone made her turn her head. His eyes, normally warm, were cold now, the blue a sharp edge that cut straight through her. "Don't lie to me, Anastasia. What did you do?"

The room seemed to shrink. She looked over at Matt, who was leaning back with his headphones in, oblivious. She sighed, knowing there was no avoiding it.

"I… I might have participated in a spell," she began slowly, each word heavier than the last. "To… tweak something."

"Tweak?" Bastian leaned forward, his voice dropping dangerously. "Define tweak."

She hesitated, and he slammed his hand down on the table. The sound cracked through the cabin like a gunshot. Matt flinched, pulling out his headphones, his eyes darting between them.

"Alright!" Anastasia snapped, her own anger bubbling to the surface. "I had to save Matt, okay? I couldn't just let him die, Bastian!"

Bastian's fists clenched, his knuckles white. "You what?" His voice trembled, not with fear but with pure, unfiltered rage. "Do you have any idea what you've done? You've meddled with time. Time, Anastasia! That's forbidden for a reason!"

Matt sat up straighter. "Wait… what do you mean 'saved me'?" His voice was quiet, cautious. "What are you saying?"

She avoided his gaze, but Matt wasn't having it. He stood up, towering over her now. "Tell me. Did I die?"

"Yes!" she yelled, finally snapping. "You died, Matt! You were gone, and I couldn't… I couldn't just leave it like that. So I found a way to bring you back." She began to explain the string of events from when Matt died by Elijah's sword to her meeting Jenny at his funeral, and with the witches' and Britney's help, she went back to save Matt.

Matt stared at her, his mouth opening and closing as if trying to form words. "So you sacrificed… yourself?" he whispered, piecing it together.

She crossed her arms, leaning back in her seat. "Yeah. What does it matter? You're here now."

"What does it matter?!" Matt's voice cracked, and for the first time, she saw tears brimming in his eyes. "You can't just—Ana, what were you thinking?"

Bastian, who had been pacing, now slammed his fist down again—this time on the edge of the table. The wood splintered and cracked, making all three of them jump.

"I can't believe you did this without talking to me," he hissed. "We're supposed to be partners, Anastasia. Do you know what happens to people who tamper with time? You've risked everything—for all of us."

Anastasia threw her hands up. "Oh, I'm sorry! Was I supposed to just sit back and let Matt die? I had to do something, Bastian."

"You didn't have to break the universe to do it!" he roared, his voice echoing in the cabin. It was the first time she'd ever seen him lose control like this. Bastian, who was always calm, always rational, had snapped.

And it would have scared her before. This time she stood her ground and if he wasn't going to support her then so be it.

Matt, now quiet, looked between them, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "What… what kind of price?" he asked softly.

Anastasia hesitated before answering, her voice barely a whisper. "Initially I was supposed to be the price. But you saw Elijah healed me and said there'd be consequences. I don't know what they are yet, but…" She glanced at Matt. "You're alive, and that's all that matters."

Matt shook his head, backing up. "This isn't right, Ana. You can't just play God."

Bastian glared at her one last time before storming out of the cabin, slamming the door to one of the private rooms behind him. The sound reverberated through the plane, leaving an oppressive silence in its wake.

Anastasia sat down, burying her face in her hands. She felt Matt's eyes on her but didn't look up. The next thing she knew, Matt wrapped his arms around her tightly for a few minutes as a silent 'thank you' for saving him even though she shouldn't have risked it.

When the plane landed, the tension hadn't dissipated. Bastian hadn't spoken another word to her, and Matt was still processing that he was alive because of her. She didn't blame either of them.

But she had work to do.

"Where are you going?" Matt asked as she stepped out of the car at their destination.

"To fix one more thing," she replied, not turning back.

Matt, to her surprise, followed her. "You're not doing this alone," he said firmly.

She didn't argue. When they reached the small park where Jenny had promised to meet her, Anastasia's heart raced. She spotted the woman sitting on a bench, her arms crossed, her expression guarded.

Jenny's eyes narrowed when she saw Anastasia. "You've got some nerve," she snapped.

"Just… read this," Anastasia said, handing her the letter she'd written.

Jenny hesitated before taking it. As she read, her face changed—first confusion, then shock, and finally a sadness so deep it seemed to consume her. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she looked up at Matt, who stepped forward hesitantly.

"Matt?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"It's me," he said softly.

Jenny broke. She launched herself into his arms, sobbing as if her heart had been ripped open and put back together all at once. Matt held her tightly, his own tears falling silently.

Anastasia smiled faintly and stepped back, giving them their moment. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and started walking away, her chest aching but a strange sense of peace settling over her.

But then, she froze.

Across the street, a figure stood watching her.

"Elijah?" she whispered, squinting to get a better look.

The figure smirked, his face unmistakable, but when she blinked, he was gone.