COLD OPEN. Darkness, muffled hum, a horn blares. Light bleeds in — we are on the ground, looking up. Will's face leans into frame (POV from Hannah lying on the street after a car crash). He strains to move something pinning her, can't budge it. "Just hold on for me." He reaches toward us — THE HUM builds, snaps to silence.
Hannah reaches for milk in a grocery shop. She flinches at a car horn outside — her breath catches. At the checkout, a CASHIER scans her items mechanically. Hannah grabs her bag, rounds a corner, and slams straight into LILY. They recognise each other — Hannah wraps Lily in a desperate hug. Lily senses something is wrong.
Coffee shop. Hannah sits across from Lily, hands curled around a barely-touched coffee, grocery bag on the floor. She tells Lily she "died" — describes the crash and a man who saved her. Lily mentions Hannah's blackouts have been getting worse. Hannah doesn't know what blackouts Lily means. Lily gently suggests seeing a doctor. Hannah notices Lily's hair is different.
Hannah walks slowly up a narrow garden path to Josh's house, holding her grocery bag. Birdsong, the hum of a passing car. She reaches the front door, pulls out keys, hesitates, then pushes the door open.
The door clicks shut behind Hannah. She steps into Josh's empty hallway — shoes padding on hardwood, the house eerily still. She moves toward the kitchen, grocery bag rustling.
Hannah sets the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and begins unpacking. Behind her, Josh speaks (O.S.): "Hello?" She freezes. Josh stands in the doorway, handsome but tense. "Who are you?" He doesn't recognise her. Hannah is devastated — tries to explain she's his girlfriend. Josh grows angry and orders her to leave. She bolts.
Hannah bursts out of the house, nearly tripping over the threshold. She fumbles for her phone and calls Lily — goes to voicemail. She leaves a panicked, rambling message about Josh pretending not to know her. She speeds up. Someone grabs her shoulder from behind and spins her around — it's WILL, the man from the crash. "Hannah, hang up." She's terrified. He tells her he was at the crash. Her face freezes mid-sentence. THE HUM builds.
CAFÉ. A coffee cup clinks down. Hannah leans back, arms crossed. Will sits across from her. "You're a time traveller." He confirms it. He explains time travel using sugar on the table — pouring a straight line for the timeline, showing how consciousness jumps back. He produces a folder stuffed with handwritten notes, diagrams, photographs. He explains there are two versions of her: the 2018 Hannah whose body she's in, and her 2025 consciousness. He proposes a plan: go back to when she first met Josh at a park café and recreate the meeting.
Will and Hannah walk with purpose through a narrow alley, walls covered in old tags and peeling posters. Hannah asks how precise the trip will be. Will explains he can narrow it to the day but they'll end up wherever their bodies were at that moment. "The earth moves through the galaxy at 200 kilometres a second." Hannah rehearses the plan: verify the date, meet Josh at the park café.
Hannah bursts out of the doctor's office and into the street. She takes off down the sidewalk, dodging slow walkers, slipping between couples. Her breath is quick but controlled.
Hannah moves fast through the city street, past storefronts and blurred faces. She rounds a turn — SMACK. She collides full-force with someone. A firm grip catches her shoulders: WILL. But this Will doesn't know her — he's startled. She calls him by name. An awkward exchange: he insists they've never met. She runs off. He calls after her: "Don't make me come find you!"
City park. Hannah storms away from the café terrace, hands clenched, breathing hard. Will calls her name (O.S.). She ignores him, quickens pace. He catches up, grabs her shoulder. She whirls around — "Don't touch me!" They argue: she says he lied about fixing things, he says they need to go further back. She's furious and desperate. "I WANT TO GO HOME!" THE HUM builds.
RESET. Close up on Hannah — distant, hollow. The same street as the opening, the same moment. She takes a step forward — a hand yanks her back. A car blurs past, air stirring her hair. She turns: it's Will. This time, she's saved.