The Butterfly Effect -

Now, inexplicably, she was there again. Not in body, but in memory—except the memory was rewriting itself. In this new version, she didn't walk away. She knelt down, helped the child gather the coin, and on impulse bought her a mango from a nearby cart. The girl's name was Fah. She was seven years old. Her mother was sick. Her father had left.

She unscrewed the lid.

So when the old woman at the edge of the village offered her a small glass jar containing a single, shimmering blue butterfly, Lena almost laughed. The Butterfly Effect