Michaela could use an older sister

Zack stared at the remote, his mind racing. He couldn’t keep Maria like this. It was too weird, too wrong. But the idea of turning her into someone else—someone who wasn’t Michaela’s mother—was tempting. He could rewrite her entirely, make her someone new. Someone who fit into his life without the guilt.

He selected Reality Rewrite again, the blue light from the remote casting an eerie glow across the room. This time, he aimed it at Maria and began speaking her new reality into existence.

“You are no longer Maria Santos,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “You are Francesca Cruz, Michaela’s 24-year-old older sister. You and Michaela moved to New Zealand from the Philippines for high school. Your mother still lives in the Philippines, working to support the both of you. You and Michaela live together here in a flat while attending university. I met you through Michaela, and we’ve been dating for two years.”

The blue light enveloped Maria, now Francesca, and the room seemed to shift around Zack. The cluttered, cozy living room transformed into a more modern, student-friendly flat. The religious icons on the walls were replaced with posters of bands and movie quotes. The small altar in the corner disappeared, replaced by a bookshelf crammed with textbooks and a few framed photos of Francesca and Michaela.

Zack blinked, taking it all in. The remote had worked its magic, and now he was standing in Francesca and Michaela’s flat. Francesca herself was still frozen, her hand halfway to the stove, her expression one of mild concentration. Zack unpaused time, and she blinked, coming back to life.

“Hey babe!” Francesca said, her voice warm and slightly accented. “You’re here early. Michaela's not home yet. She said she finished work late. You wait around, okay?”

Zack **** a smile, trying to hide his nerves. “Thanks, Fran. I’ll just wait.”

Francesca nodded and turned back to the stove, stirring the pot of adobo. Zack watched her for a moment, his mind still reeling from what he’d just done. She looked so different now—younger, more vibrant. Her dark hair was tied up in a messy bun, a few strands escaping to frame her face. She was wearing a simple tank top and jeans, her toned arms and slender waist on full display. She looked like a university student, not a middle-aged mother.

Zack wandered over to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as Francesca cooked. The smell of garlic and soy sauce filled the air, making his stomach growl. He couldn’t help but notice the way her hips swayed as she moved, the way her tank top clung to her curves. He reached out, playfully caressing her ass.

Francesca spun around, her eyes wide with shock. “Zack! What you doing?!” she scolded, slapping his hand away. “Not in the kitchen, ah? And not when I’m cooking!”

Zack held up his hands in mock surrender, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry, Fran. Couldn’t help myself.”

She glared at him, but there was a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “You’re such a… a… makulit!” she said, shaking her head. “Always teasing me.”

Zack chuckled, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “You love it.”

Francesca rolled her eyes, but she was smiling now. “Go sit down, ah? Dinner's almost ready.”

Zack obeyed, retreating to the lounge to give her some space. He flopped down on the couch, his mind still racing. The remote had worked perfectly—Francesca was now Michaela’s older sister, and their shared history felt real. But as he scanned his newfound memories there was one thing he hadn’t anticipated: Francesca was still Catholic, and she was still a virgin. In this new reality, they’d been dating for two years, but they’d never gone all the way.

This is going to be harder than I thought, Zack thought, running a hand through his hair. But it's not like it's that hard, he thought, glancing down at the remote in his hands.

He glanced toward the kitchen, where Francesca was still busy cooking. She looked so different now, so young and vibrant. But there was still a part of her that felt familiar—the part that cared deeply about her family, her faith, and her future. Zack couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. He’d rewritten her entire life, and she had no idea.

But the remote was still in his hand, and the power it gave him was intoxicating. He could do anything. Change anything. And no one would ever know.

What’s my next move? he wondered, his mind racing with possibilities.