Episode 1: The Forbidden Study and the Worst Tuesday
On the edge of Balik Pulau, where the sun dipped low over the horizon and turned the sky into a watercolor painting of pinks and purples, stood an old Victorian house.
The paint was peeling. The wooden shutters leaned at odd angles. Vines climbed over the porch railings as if they had been trying to sneak inside for years. In the garden, wildflowers grew wherever they pleased, pushing through cracks in the stone path and nodding beneath the weight of afternoon butterflies.
The house had stories buried within its walls.
At least, that was what eleven-year-old Lily Tan believed.
Lily had lived there for almost her entire life, together with her grandmother, Ah Ma, and her mother, who worked long hours at a small accounting office in town.
The house belonged to Lily’s great-grandfather before it became Ah Ma’s. It had high ceilings, creaky floorboards, narrow corridors, and so many cupboards that Lily was convinced some of them probably led to other dimensions.
There was one room, however, that Lily was forbidden to enter.
The upstairs study.
“Too much dust,” Ah Ma always said.
But Lily knew that was not the real reason.
The study had belonged to her great-grandfather. Inside were old books, boxes of letters, yellowing photographs, and a tall wooden cabinet with glass doors.
Ah Ma had locked the room years ago.
“Some things,” she would say whenever Lily asked, “are better left sleeping.”
Lily found this answer deeply unsatisfying.
On this particular Tuesday afternoon, Lily was thinking about the study because Tuesday had already gone wrong.
It started at school.
First, she forgot her mathematics workbook.
Then she spilled soy milk on her uniform.
Then her best friend, Mei, accidentally told everyone that Lily had a crush on a boy in their class.
She did not.
Absolutely did not.
But that did not stop twenty-three pairs of eyes from turning toward her.
By lunchtime, Lily had decided that Tuesday was officially the worst day of the week.
It was not even Friday.
“Bad luck,” Mei said as they walked home beneath the blazing afternoon sun.
“Don’t say that.”
“Why?”
“Because then more bad things will happen.”
Mei grinned. “You believe in that?”
“No.”
“You just said—”
“I said don’t say it.”
Mei laughed.
They reached the fork in the road where they usually separated.
“See you tomorrow!” Mei called.
Lily waved and continued toward home.
The road climbed gently through a quiet stretch of Balik Pulau, past old houses, fruit trees, and little gardens crowded with potted plants. The air smelled of warm earth and leaves. Somewhere nearby, someone was frying garlic. A motorbike buzzed past.
Lily’s mood slowly improved.
Then she noticed something strange.
A small yellow envelope lay in the middle of the road.
She stopped.
There was no name on it.
No address.
Just one word written across the front in faded blue ink:
LILY
She looked around.
Nobody was there.
“Okay,” she whispered.
She picked it up.
The paper felt strangely warm.
Inside was a single sheet torn from a notebook.
There were only three words:
Tuesday. Four seventeen.
Lily frowned.
She checked her watch.
4:12 p.m.
“Very funny.”
She turned the paper over.
Nothing.
Then she noticed something written faintly near the bottom:
Look where yesterday waits.
Lily stared at the sentence.
Yesterday?
She had no idea what it meant.
At 4:17, she heard a sound.
A bell.
Not a school bell.
Not a bicycle bell.
A soft, old-fashioned chime coming from somewhere inside her house.
Lily ran the rest of the way home.
Episode 2: The Clock at Four Seventeen
The front door was unlocked.
“Ah Ma?”
No answer.
She stepped inside.
The house felt different.
The afternoon sunlight had faded strangely, leaving the hallway dim.
Lily glanced at the clock.
4:17.
The clock’s second hand stopped.
She waited.
Nothing.
Then—
Tick.
The hand jumped backward.
Tick.
Backward again.
Lily’s stomach tightened.
“Ah Ma?”
Still nothing.
She hurried upstairs.
The door to the study stood open.
Lily stopped so suddenly that her slippers squeaked against the floor.
The study had been locked that morning.
She knew because she had tried the handle.
Now the door was open by a few inches.
A thin strip of golden light spilled across the hallway.
Lily pushed it wider.
Dust floated through the air.
The room smelled of old paper and rain.
She stepped inside.
There were shelves filled with books. A desk sat beneath the window. Boxes were stacked against one wall.
And on the desk was an old brass clock.
Its hands pointed to 4:17.
Lily approached.
Beside the clock lay a photograph.
It showed a group of children standing in front of the house.
Lily recognized the house immediately.
But the children were strangers.
She picked up the photograph.
One boy stood slightly apart from the others.
He looked about eleven.
He wore short trousers, a white shirt, and a serious expression.
On the back of the photograph was a date:
Tuesday, 14 June.
No year.
Lily turned it over again.
The boy was staring directly at her.
Then his image flickered.
Lily dropped the photograph.
“What the—”
A sound came from the clock.
Click.
The hands moved.
4:18.
The room changed.
For one impossible second, Lily saw the study as it had been decades earlier.
The walls were clean.
The shelves were full.
Sunlight streamed through the windows.
Someone laughed downstairs.
Then everything snapped back.
Lily stumbled backward.
The door slammed shut.
She screamed.
“Whoa! Whoa! Don’t panic!”
The door flew open.
Ah Ma stood there, holding a basket of laundry.
She stared at Lily.
Then at the clock.
Then at the photograph on the floor.
Her face went pale.
“Lily,” she whispered.
“What is this?”
Ah Ma did not answer.
“Ah Ma, what is happening?”
For several seconds, the old woman said nothing.
Then she carefully picked up the photograph.
“I hoped this day would never come.”
Lily swallowed.
“Come what day?”
“Tuesday.”
Lily blinked.
“Tuesday?”
Ah Ma nodded.
“Some Tuesdays,” she said quietly, “do not stay where they belong.”
Episode 3: The Missing Minute and the Boy Named Daniel
That night, Lily could not sleep.
She lay beneath her blanket listening to the rain tapping against the roof.
At 11:23 p.m., she heard the clock downstairs strike once.
At midnight, it struck again.
At 12:17, Lily sat up.
There was someone whispering outside her bedroom.
“Lily.”
She froze.
“Lily.”
She opened the door.
The corridor was empty.
At the end of the hallway, however, a yellow envelope lay on the floor.
She picked it up.
This time, there were four words:
Find the missing minute.
The next morning, Lily showed Mei.
They sat beneath a shady tree during recess, whispering over the strange envelope.
“Maybe somebody is playing a prank,” Mei said.
“Who?”
Mei shrugged.
“Someone very committed?”
Lily pulled out the photograph.
Mei studied it.
“Who’s that boy?”
“I don’t know.”
“You should ask your grandmother.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“She told me not to investigate.”
Mei stared at her.
“So naturally, we’re investigating.”
Lily nodded.
“Obviously.”
They spent lunch searching through school records in the small library.
Old local history books gave them one useful clue.
The house had once belonged to a man named Tan Wei Choon.
He had been known for repairing clocks.
More importantly, the house had apparently contained a clock room.
Lily frowned.
“My great-grandfather repaired clocks?”
“Looks like it.”
“Why didn’t Ah Ma tell me?”
Mei pointed at the photograph.
“Maybe because of him.”
The boy.
They searched for his name.
Nothing.
Then Mei found something.
A scanned newspaper article from many years ago:
LOCAL CLOCKMAKER’S HOUSE DAMAGED IN STORM.
The article mentioned a group of neighborhood children who had been visiting the house that afternoon.
Five children.
Four names were listed.
The fifth was described only as “a young boy.”
Lily felt a chill.
“That’s him.”
Mei leaned closer.
“What happened?”
Lily read aloud.
“The storm caused severe damage to the old clockmaker’s workshop. Several items were destroyed.”
She stopped.
“That’s it?”
“Maybe there’s another article.”
They searched.
Nothing.
After school, they went straight to Lily’s house.
Ah Ma was in the kitchen cutting vegetables.
“Ah Ma,” Lily said, “who is the boy in the photograph?”
The knife stopped.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
Ah Ma looked up sharply.
“Lily.”
“I know something happened.”
Silence filled the kitchen.
Finally, Ah Ma sighed.
“The boy’s name was Daniel.”
Lily stared.
“Daniel who?”
“Just Daniel.”
“Was he your friend?”
Ah Ma nodded.
“We were all friends.”
“What happened to him?”
Ah Ma looked toward the window.
“It was a Tuesday.”
Lily waited.
“There was a storm,” Ah Ma said. “Your great-grandfather had built a special clock. He believed it could measure something more than time.”
“Like what?”
“Moments.”
Lily frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“He believed that certain moments become so important that they leave a mark. A birthday. A goodbye. A first meeting. A final promise.”
She put down the knife.
“That afternoon, Daniel disappeared.”
Lily’s eyes widened.
“Disappeared?”
“We searched everywhere.”
“And?”
“We never found him.”
“How can someone just disappear?”
Ah Ma’s voice softened.
“Because your great-grandfather believed the clock had opened a doorway.”
Lily thought about the study.
“The missing minute.”
Ah Ma nodded.
“The clock stopped at 4:17 that day.”
“Why?”
“We never learned.”
Lily stared at her grandmother.
“What happened to the other children?”
“One moved away. Another forgot most of it. I remembered.”
“And Daniel?”
Ah Ma looked at Lily.
“I never forgot him.”
Episode 4: The Four Clues and the Doorway to the Past
That night, Lily returned to the study.
She knew she shouldn’t.
But the mystery had become impossible to ignore.
She examined the clock.
There was a small keyhole underneath.
She searched the drawers until she found a tiny brass key.
When she inserted it, the clock opened.
Inside was a folded piece of paper:
If the minute is missing, find what was unfinished.
Below that was a list:
- A promise.
- A letter.
- A song.
- A photograph.
Lily stared.
“What does that mean?”
Behind her, the door creaked.
She spun around.
Mei stood there.
“You said not to come inside alone,” Mei whispered.
“I didn’t.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Good.”
Together they searched the room.
The promise was easy.
They found it inside a small wooden box.
It was written by Daniel:
I promise I will come back tomorrow.
The letter was hidden inside an old book.
It was addressed to Ah Ma:
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wanted to show you something. Meet me at the garden at four seventeen.
The song was harder.
Eventually, Mei found a handwritten sheet of music tucked beneath the desk.
The photograph was the one Lily already had.
Four clues.
Four unfinished things.
They carried everything into the center of the room.
Nothing happened.
Then Lily noticed the clock.
Its hands had moved.
4:16.
She held her breath.
“One minute,” Mei whispered.
The clock ticked.
4:17.
The room vanished.
Lily felt herself falling.
She landed on grass.
Warm sunlight hit her face.
The house stood behind her.
But it was new.
The paint was bright.
The garden was neat.
Children were running across the lawn.
Lily stood up.
Mei was beside her.
“Where are we?”
A boy’s voice answered:
“Tuesday.”
They turned.
Daniel stood beneath the old mango tree.
He looked exactly like the photograph.
Eleven years old.
Serious eyes.
Messy hair.
He held a small wooden box.
Lily’s heart hammered.
“You’re Daniel.”
He nodded.
“Are you from the future?”
“Yes.”
“Are we dead?”
“No!”
“Good.”
Daniel looked relieved.
“I’ve been waiting.”
“For us?”
“For someone.”
Lily looked at the clock tower visible through the trees.
“What happened to you?”
Daniel looked down.
“I found the clock.”
“You built it?”
“No. Your great-grandfather did.”
“What did you do?”
“I wanted to see tomorrow.”
He opened the wooden box.
Inside was a tiny clockwork bird.
“It was supposed to show me one moment in the future.”
“And?”
“It showed me something terrible.”
Lily leaned closer.
“What?”
Daniel’s face tightened.
“I saw this house empty.”
Lily frowned.
“That’s not terrible.”
“It was to me.”
He looked at the garden.
“I thought everyone would disappear.”
Mei crossed her arms.
“So you tried to stop time?”
Daniel nodded.
“I thought if I kept one minute open, nothing would change.”
Lily suddenly understood.
The missing minute was not really missing.
Daniel had trapped it.
He had trapped Tuesday at 4:17.
The moment before everything changed.
“You’ve been here all this time?”
Daniel nodded.
“I don’t feel older.”
Lily’s chest hurt.
“That’s awful.”
“I know.”
“Then come back with us.”
Daniel shook his head.
“I tried.”
“Why can’t you?”
“The door only opens when someone remembers what happened.”
Lily looked at him.
“Ah Ma remembers you.”
“She remembers me.”
“But she forgot the promise.”
Daniel smiled sadly.
“Everyone forgot something.”
Lily looked at the four objects:
- Promise.
- Letter.
- Song.
- Photograph.
“The unfinished things.”
Daniel nodded.
“They’re pieces of the moment.”
The clock began ticking.
4:18.
Daniel stepped backward.
“You have to go.”
“No!”
“The door is closing.”
Lily grabbed his hand.
“Wait!”
Daniel looked at her.
“Tell Ah Ma I’m sorry.”
“Tell her yourself!”
The garden shook.
The sunlight fractured like glass.
Lily held on.
Mei grabbed Lily’s other hand.
“Don’t let go!”
But the world pulled them apart.
Lily screamed.
Then—
She landed on the study floor.
The clock was silent.
Mei was beside her.
The photograph lay between them.
And in the photograph, Daniel was no longer looking away.
He was smiling.
Episode 5: The Clock Moves Forward
Downstairs, Ah Ma called:
“Lily?”
Lily ran.
Ah Ma stood in the hallway.
Lily held out the photograph.
Ah Ma stared at it.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“He’s smiling,” she whispered.
Lily nodded.
“He wants you to know he’s sorry.”
Ah Ma covered her mouth.
Then something strange happened.
The clock downstairs began ringing.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Ah Ma hurried toward it.
Lily followed.
The old clock on the wall had stopped for decades.
Now its hands moved.
4:17.
4:18.
4:19.
Ah Ma laughed through her tears.
“He’s gone.”
Lily blinked.
“What?”
“Daniel isn’t trapped anymore.”
The house became quiet.
The study door slowly closed.
This time, Lily did not feel frightened.
Weeks passed.
The mystery of Tuesday became a secret shared by three people:
Lily, Mei, and Ah Ma.
They never told anyone else.
Some stories were too strange to explain.
But the house changed.
Ah Ma unlocked the study.
Dust was cleaned away.
The old books were sorted.
The photograph was placed in a frame.
And beside it, Ah Ma placed Daniel’s promise:
I promise I will come back tomorrow.
Lily asked her why she kept it.
Ah Ma smiled.
“Because he did.”
Lily frowned.
“But he came back yesterday.”
Ah Ma shook her head.
“No.”
She pointed toward the window.
“He came back in you.”
Lily didn’t understand at first.
Then she did.
Daniel had been afraid of change.
He had tried to hold on to one perfect minute.
But time was never meant to stay still.
People moved.
Houses aged.
Friends left.
Children grew.
Tuesdays became Wednesdays.
And yesterday became something you carried rather than something you lived inside.
That evening, Lily sat on the porch with Mei.
The sky turned pink.
Then purple.
The first stars appeared.
Mei nudged her.
“So.”
“So?”
“Do you think there are other strange clocks?”
Lily smiled.
“Definitely.”
“Other mysterious houses?”
“Probably.”
“Other trapped Tuesdays?”
Lily looked at the old house.
“No.”
She thought for a moment.
“At least, I hope not.”
They laughed.
Inside the house, the clock chimed.
4:17.
Lily froze.
Then it chimed again.
4:18.
She smiled.
“Come on,” she said.
“Where?”
“Tomorrow.”
Mei laughed.
“Tomorrow isn’t here yet.”
“I know.”
Lily stood.
“That’s the point.”
Together they ran down the garden path, their footsteps scattering dry leaves into the evening air.
Behind them, the old Victorian house stood quietly beneath the fading sky.
Its windows glowed warmly.
Its walls held their stories.
And somewhere inside, a clock kept moving.
One minute at a time.
The End…
