When I woke up the next morning and glanced at the digital clock beside my pillow, I froze.

The numbers still read April 1st.

Startled, I grabbed my phone to check the date—but there it was again: April 1st. 

For a moment I couldn’t move. What on earth was happening?

Then it hit me. Yesterday, I’d asked that old man to make sure this day would never end.

If today never ended, that would mean April 1st would go on forever.

Could my wish really have come true?

My father was in his room, putting on his suit, and in the living room my mother was setting out cornflakes and bacon and eggs—just like yesterday… or rather, just like the last time I lived through this morning.

As I stood there in a daze, my mother called out,

“Don’t forget, we’re going to visit Evan today. Eat quickly and get ready.”

On the TV, an owl documentary—Evan’s favorite—was playing.

Either Mom or I must have set it to play; we always did. Watching it made me feel as if my little brother were still with us.

Maybe Mom felt the same. Her face softened as she watched the screen, though her smile looked touched by sadness.

I poured milk over my cereal, ate in silence, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and changed my clothes before heading out to the hospital with my parents.

Times Square looked exactly the same.

Even the man who darted into the street, making my father slam on the brakes and shout, appeared right on cue.

Everything was repeating itself—just as the old man had said.

A strange thrill welled up inside me, a mix of fear, wonder, and something almost like joy.