The smell of medicine drifted through the air, and Molly Pendleton wrinkled her nose.She carried Daisy toward the kitchen and spotted a blackened clay pot simmering on the small stove. Warren Pendleton stood by the hearth, slicing bamboo shoots into thin pieces. On the counter sat the ingredients for lunch: tomato and egg soup, cold-dressed spinach, and stir-fried bamboo shoots with pork.It wasn't the healthiest thing to eat meat every day, but when Warren looked at his wife and daughter, both so thin and fragile, he couldn't help but feel they needed more nourishment. This time he'd bought not only pork but also a couple of pounds of beef, which now sat in the kitchen crock, waiting to be stewed for dinner.Molly watched his back as he worked, something stirring in her chest. "Is that medicine for your leg?"In the past, she never would have asked. His injured leg was a sore subject. Any mention of it sent him into a rage.But after witnessing the changes

After dinner, Molly Pendleton insisted on washing the dishes.Warren Pendleton used the unfinished sweater he was knitting for Daisy as an excuse to shoo her away.No way was he letting that happen. The water was freezing in this weather. How could he let Molly touch cold water?Once Warren finished tidying up, he spent some time playing with Daisy. When he watched the little girl fall asleep clutching her doll so tightly she wouldn't let go, a bitter ache swelled in his chest.Daisy was over two years old, and this was her very first doll.In his previous life, Daisy had grown to her teens without ever receiving a single gift from her father.The memory of her resolute expression in that other timeline made Warren's heart clench with pain.He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Daisy's forehead.Daughters always took after their mothers. Daisy looked exactly like Molly, utterly beautiful.Looking at mother and daughter together, War

Five thousand dollars might be pocket change twenty years down the line, barely enough for a phone. Warren Pendleton could earn that much in a month working construction sites in the future. But this was the year 2000.Right now, five thousand dollars was a fortune.Property downtown in the capital was only going for a thousand or two per square meter. With this money, he could finally repair the old courtyard properly and start saving for a house in Ridgewood.Satisfaction warmed Warren's chest as he left. Before stepping out, he'd asked Carl Harrison again about those villas in Ridgewood. Other people couldn't predict the future, but Warren could. From his previous life, he knew Ridgewood would become a second-tier city eventually. Housing prices there wouldn't match the capital's, but they'd still climb to staggering heights.Carl had chuckled. "Those houses won't be finished until late next year. When they're ready, I'll give you first pick and throw in a dis

Listening to Mabel Pendleton lay out her thorough plans, Warren Pendleton nodded in agreement.Reborn into this second chance at life, Warren harbored no grand ambitions. All he wanted was to give his family a good life, one filled with safety and simple happiness.When he returned home, Molly Pendleton had already finished tidying the kitchen and had coaxed Daisy Pendleton to sleep. Warren slipped into the pocket dimension to plant a few things and harvest the fresh bamboo shoots that had sprouted. The corn had ripened as well, golden and ready. The strawberries, though, were still too few. He couldn't bear to sell them, so he set them aside as treats for Daisy.Once he'd finished tending to the crops, Warren walked out to the family's farmland. The Pendleton plot had sat abandoned for years, perched on the hillside behind the house and surrounded by nothing but scrubland. As he surveyed the overgrown soil, an idea took shape. When they renovated the courtyard, he'd

Warren Pendleton stood before the warehouse with its rental sign hanging out front, a surge of satisfaction rising in his chest.Without hesitation, he strode into the corner store next door. "Excuse me," he said to the man behind the counter. "I'm interested in renting that warehouse. Are you the owner?"In this era, before cell phones became commonplace and pagers were still a luxury most couldn't afford, landlords typically left their contact information at neighboring shops.The owner looked up from whatever he'd been doing. "That'd be me, Wesley Mercer. So you're looking to rent the warehouse?"Warren nodded. "What's the monthly rate?"Wesley studied him for a moment, sizing him up. "That warehouse has good square footage. There's a rest area in the back, complete with a toilet and a bed frame."He fished out a key and led Warren to the warehouse door, swinging it open to reveal nearly two thousand square feet of open space. "Fifty dollars a month,