Two weeks later, on a biting January morning, Julien was passing through a small town when his fuel gauge dipped dangerously low. A sign announced a gas station ahead.
He pulled in, engine grumbling from the cold. As he reached for the door handle, it suddenly burst open, slamming into his forehead.
— “Ow—what the—?”
A young gas station clerk stood in the doorway, face pale with panic.
— “Sir! I need help — please! A woman’s in labor inside, and I don’t know what to do!”
Julien blinked, stunned. But within seconds, he was following the man inside.

On the floor, a woman lay curled in agony, her breaths shallow and frantic. She looked up at Julien with glassy eyes.
— “Marc?” she whispered. “You’re alive?”
Julien froze. The name meant nothing to him. He assumed she was hallucinating from the pain.
— “No, I’m Julien. I—I’m here to help.”
There was no time to explain. He helped carry her into his truck, which had heating and enough space to lay her down. The nearest hospital was twenty minutes away — and an ambulance wouldn’t arrive in time on these icy roads.
With trembling hands, he drove, speaking to her softly the entire way.
— “What’s your name?”
— “Claire…” she panted.
— “Claire, you’re safe now. Just hold on a bit longer.”
By some miracle, they reached the hospital just in time. Nurses rushed her away, and Julien slumped into the waiting room chair, still in shock.
He had saved a woman and her baby. But her words echoed in his mind.
Marc. You’re alive.
The next day, Julien returned to the hospital to check on Claire. The nurse smiled as she approached.— “You’re back! Come meet your son — he looks just like you.”
Julien blinked.
— “I’m not her husband—”
But the nurse had already pulled him toward Claire’s room.
Claire sat upright, her face pale but peaceful. When she saw him, her breath caught.
— “Marc…” she whispered.
Julien opened his mouth to correct her — but something stopped him. The way she looked at him — with awe, love, confusion — it felt… familiar.
— “I’m not Marc,” he said gently. “My name is Julien.”
Claire blinked. Her face changed — first disbelief, then realization. Tears welled in her eyes.
— “You… you look just like him…”
Julien knelt beside her.
— “Tell me about Marc. Please.”
She told him everything. Marc had been her husband. Kind. Brave. Her anchor. He disappeared two years ago during a weekend fishing trip with a friend — a man named Luc.
Marc never came back.
Luc had returned with a cold excuse: Marc had drowned. No body, no closure. Claire had grieved, but something never sat right. Luc kept visiting. Over time, his visits turned into threats.
When Claire discovered she was pregnant, Luc became obsessed.
Frightened, she fled. Her car broke down, and she ended up at the gas station — exhausted, scared, and alone.
Until Julien appeared.

