I nodded. Dru knew I could see random dead-ish people since the first time it happened, but while Thomas believed me immediately, it took her a while to come around.

She was quiet for a moment as a waiter cleared the table beside us. When he blew out the candle in the centerpiece and left, walking through the jazz trio on his way to the kitchen, she continued. “So you’re trying to tell me that the things you saw weren’t ghosts, but people from the past?”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Her voice hit a higher pitch than usual as more of her composure slipped. She held up her hand. “I need a minute.”

Michael had chosen the restaurant as the place to spill the beans. He’d hoped being in view of the public would help curb the intensity of any strong reactions. Didn’t look like it was working for Dru.

Smoke from the extinguished candle drifted over to our table, briefly covering the smell of tomato sauce and baking bread coming from the kitchen. My stomach growled, and I thought about asking for a basket when it came out of the oven.

Instead, I stuck to the business at hand. Hoping I’d given Dru enough time, I tried to explain more clearly, realizing again how unbelievable it all sounded. “The fact that I can see time ripples is a symptom that I’m a time traveler. I mean an indicator.”

Her gaze jumped from me to Michael. “And you can time travel, too?”

“Yes.”

“Uh-huh.” She slumped back in her chair, checking out of the conversation.

“Could Dru or I see rips?” Thomas asked.

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I looked over at the jazz trio and answered for Michael. “No.”

“So when you met Emerson the first time, when she came to you from the future, how did you know she was a time traveler instead of a time ripple?” Thomas asked, leaning closer to us over the table, keeping his voice low. At least he seemed to be following.

“Rips disappear if someone touches them. Time travelers know exactly what and where they are. And they’re solid.”

I sat up straighter in my chair. “How solid?”

“The same as we are now.”

An uneasy thought crowded my mind. If rips were vapor and time travelers were solid …

What was Jack?

The thought disappeared when Thomas asked Michael his next question. “What would happen if someone who wasn’t born with the ability to travel attempted it? Assuming they could come up with exotic matter and something made of duronium. Could Dru or I do it?”

“Only people born with the innate genetic ability can travel without serious consequences.”

“What kind of consequences?” Thomas asked.

Michael’s face was grim. “Death by disintegration.”

“Ouch,” Thomas said, sitting back and loosening his tie.

“What have you seen? When you’ve traveled to the future?” Dru interrupted. She’d been so quiet I’d almost forgotten she was at the table. “What kind of world do we live in?”

I knew she was thinking of the baby.

“I can’t say. I have to keep what I’ve seen a secret. But babies were still being born, every day”—Michael gave her a comforting smile—“and then going on to lead spectacular lives.”

“What’s the next step for you two?” Thomas asked, but not before reaching out to wrap his hand around Dru’s. “Do you have a plan?”

“I’ve got to fill Dr. Rooks in on what I want to do,” Michael said, turning serious eyes to my brother. “If she agrees and Emerson has your permission, we’re going to try to save Liam Ballard.”

Thomas looked at me with concern. “Are you on board with this?”

I nodded.

“If—really, really big if—all this is … true,” Dru said, worry clouding her expression, “I hope you’re completely aware of what you’d be risking.”

“I am fully aware.” I searched my gut once more to make sure the words I spoke were true. The answer came back the same. “I know I’m doing the right thing.”

Thomas reached over to touch me lightly on the arm. “Do you think you and I could talk for a second? By ourselves?”

“Dru,” Michael said, standing and stepping around my chair, steadying himself by placing his fingertips on the table. “I wanted to ask you about one of the art photos in my loft. I wondered if you had contact information on the photographer. Can we go look at it?”

“No problem. But if it’s a photograph, I can guess who took it. Have you met Em’s friend Lily?” Dru asked as they left the table together. She cast a worried look over her shoulder as they walked to the door, her dark hair hiding half of her face but none of her concern. The phantom musicians seamlessly transitioned from a Cole Porter classic to a Billie Holiday standard.

Once the heavy wooden door closed behind Michael and Dru, Thomas looked at me intently. “Truth time.”

“I’ve been telling the truth since we sat down, Thomas. You think I could make all that up?”

“Not that.” He pulled a green packet of sugar substitute from a ceramic holder on the table. “You know I believe you, at least I hope you do. What I’m talking about is the way you sounded when you two were explaining everything.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and waited.

“Even though I’ve been your legal guardian for the past four years, you’ve pretty much made your own decisions about how you run your life. The only exception was when you were …” He paused, his face cautious as he tried to figure out how to put it delicately.

“Committed.” I said it for him. “It’s okay. It’s not a dirty word.”

Thomas acknowledged the word but didn’t expand on the subject, just continued folding and refolding the tiny green packet in his hands. “You’re almost an adult. I can’t really tell you what to do anymore.”

“I’m not following.”

“You and Michael.” He ripped the packet open and poured the contents on the table in a grainy pile. “Listening to the two of you, watching you together, I’m guessing your connection goes further than sharing a supernatural ability.”

“We haven’t crossed any professional lines.” Looking away from him, I felt the blush start beneath my skin. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s not like that yet, you mean. What about last night?”

I’d hoped I’d gotten away with last night.

“Thomas. Please.” I wanted to crawl under the table and hide. Anything not to participate in this conversation. “Nothing is going on.”

“Hey, you’re the one who tried to knock a security camera off the side of a building. That’s a lot of pent-up frustration.”

I’d wondered when he was going to bring that up. “You have nothing to worry about. No rules have been broken.”

Thomas traced a circle in the white granules on the table before looking up at me. “But you have feelings for him?”

“There are a lot of complications.”

Rules. Trust. Ava.

“I thought something like this might happen. That’s why I made sure Michael would adhere to the rules, both the Hourglass’s and mine.” Thomas sat back in his chair, assessing me the same way he’d evaluate a foundation before buying a building. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”




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