A mother and a son, separately regretting the way they’ve treated each other in the past, wish to make things right March 20, 2020: “When I talk about the most drastic action we can take, this is it. New York is locked down; New Yorkers will only be allowed to leave their homes for essential business.” Diana sighed and switched off the radio just before— “Mooom? Can you come in here for a second?” Will’s mother sighed as she rose from the worn wooden chair in their kitchen, leaving a pile of bills scattered on the table. She walked down their apartment’s short hallway, stretching stiff limbs long overdue for movement, and stopped outside Will’s door. She closed her tired eyes, swept back her unbrushed hair, and smiled. “What do you need, sweetie?” “Uhh, we’re supposed to be analyzing this book we read . . .” Will clenched and unclenched his fists nervously, “and the essay’s due tomorrow . . .” Will’s mom inhaled sharply and rubbed her forehead, “Will, what did I tell you about your homework?” She pushed her hair back in distress. “Look, I just don’t have time right now, hon . . .” “Alright, fine. Fine, I get it,” Will interrupted and muttered, “I don’t need you anyway.” Will’s mom glanced up in surprise. “You know I don’t mean it that way . . .” Trace “I don’t need you, Mom! Just”—he sighed—“just get out!” Will’s mom stood frozen, hurt. She sighed and shook her head as she backed out of his room. She plopped back into the creaky wooden chair in their kitchen and let her head fall into her hands. A tingling sensation moved down her right arm and she looked at her copper bracelet. She smiled, fondly but sadly, remembering her mom who had given her the bracelet decades ago. She could barely believe a woman of such strength and happiness had been taken by the virus. No matter what, her mom had always been there for her, and she aspired to be that for Will. Will! Quiet terror swept across her face as Diana remembered all the times she had put Will’s needs on the backburner. I wish . . . I could just go back and redo everything . . . Diana sighed. I just want to go back to when he was born and be there for him. Suddenly, she felt the copper bracelet on her arm slowly beginning to turn counterclockwise. It was barely moving at first, but it spun faster and faster. From the window of her fifth-story apartment, she watched in shock as the days began to pass in more and more rapid succession. No. The days . . . they were rewinding! *          *          * Will shifted in his chair and smiled smugly. Ha. I finished my essay, and I didn’t even need her, he thought defiantly. “Mooom,” he called as he finally rose from his chair and wandered into the kitchen. He was met with silence and an empty room. “Mom?!” he called out louder. Will jogged back down the hallway and swung into his mom’s bedroom. Hmm. She’s not here either, he thought nonchalantly. He walked across her room and found the bathroom dark and empty. Weird, he thought. She must be around here somewhere. I didn’t hear her leave . . . “Mom?” he called out again. Will’s face began to contort with worry, and then frustration. I didn’t really mean what I said before about not needing her, he thought. She knows that, right? Will pushed his hands through his hair, lifted his right foot, and stamped it down with all his weight. Suddenly he caught sight of the kitchen phone. How could I be so stupid? He snatched the phone from the wall and punched in his mom’s phone number. The flip phone amidst a scattering of bills rang abruptly. His hope vanished, and a tear splashed quietly onto the tile floor. He solemnly made his way to his mom’s bedroom and opened the top drawer of her dresser, pulling out a small jewelry box. Inside was a thin bracelet of tiny copper chains. It was one of two matching bracelets Will’s grandma had handed down to his mom. His mom had tried to offer it to him, but like always, he had met her question with an unnecessary amount of aggression and opposition. Now he gently lifted the bracelet out and clasped it around his wrist. “I wish this would just be over already,” he whispered in a subdued sob. The copper bracelet began to rotate around his wrist clockwise. It circled faster, faster. The view outside the bedroom window blurred into a confusing mixture of night and day, until the sun stopped and hung bright and still in the sky. Will stepped out of his apartment building and looked around at the streets in frantic confusion. He jogged along the sidewalk and called out, “Mom?!” The people around him glared judgmentally before hurrying on their way. Will was still apprehensive to move about without a mask on and in such proximity to other people. But no one else seemed to share his concerns. “Ma’am? Isn’t New York City on lockdown to prevent the spread of COVID-19?” “Two years ago, we were,” she replied, bemused. Will furrowed his brow. “Two years ago?” he repeated quietly to himself. Will furrowed his brow. “Two years ago?” he repeated quietly to himself. He wandered into the Apple Store across from his apartment building, still pondering the reply. Buried in thought, Will felt himself hit the hard, cold frame of a metal shelf. Startled, he looked up and muttered angrily at the shelf. Then his eye caught the large display on the nearest wall showing an ad for the iPhone 14: scheduled release—September 2022. Will quickly walked over to the nearest employee. “Excuse me. Are you sure that release date’s right?” “Yep, it’s right. Just