11

FEBRUARY 12, 2147

ALORA

I. can’t. sleep.

After spending most of the night staring at the ceiling in my bedroom, or sketching scenes of my life with Aunt Grace, I finally sit up. According to my DataLink, it’s almost four o’clock in the morning. I lean across the bed and swipe my finger across a sensor on the bottom of my window, which deactivates the night screen and allows me to see outside. It’s still dark. The only flashes of light are from a few shuttles flying overhead and from some nearby Jumbotrons, which cast faint shadows across my walls. A few lights are on in different buildings, but most of them are dark, their inhabitants more than likely lost in their dreams.

I let out a sigh and lie back on the bed. The only thing I can think about is my conversation with Bridger. I keep replaying what he said in my head, wondering if he will decide to help me. I thought once I’d restored his memories, he’d be completely on my side, but it seems like he’s unsure. It hurts me, but I guess I can understand. He’s lived his life separate from me since we returned to this time—ten long months where we both made the best of our respective situations. I can see how he wouldn’t want to jeopardize what he’s spent that time working for.

But still, I need answers. I need to find my father, and figure out why he was cloned and brought to this era after his death in the military in 1994. I need answers as to why he never came back for me. Why did he rob me of a life with him in it?

The DTA is hiding something from me—and Bridger—and we need to find out what that is.

But at the same time, I miss Aunt Grace so much. The ache is stronger than it was yesterday when I finally remembered her, and all I want to do is go to her right now. I have to know that she’s okay, that nobody from the DTA hurt her. I know I shouldn’t; it’s illegal to time travel without the DTA’s permission. But I’m not exactly feeling warm and fuzzy toward the DTA at the moment.

I need to see her.

Before I can change my mind, I jump out of bed, strip out of my new pajamas, and dig through my closet. Mom went a little overboard buying me clothes. I barely remember the shopping trip—I just went along with a lot of what she chose. I find a pair of jeans and a plain blue T-shirt with labels stating that they were retrieved from 2004, along with a pair of white-and-gray sneakers. This’ll have to do.

Once I’m dressed, I remember to retrieve the Mind Redeemer from its hiding place in my dresser and stuff it in my pocket, just in case someone from the DTA went back and took Aunt Grace’s memories, too. I hope they wouldn’t be that cruel to her.

Then I close my eyes and picture the forest behind the former plantation house that was our home. I think of the path where I used to jog to the river every day, picture where the path ended and the yard began. That’s where I need to appear, since I don’t know if I’ll be able to free shift to my target date. My last day with Aunt Grace was July 4, 2013—the day I “officially” died at the hands of the homicidal man who was a guest at Aunt Grace’s inn, Dave Palmer. I’ll try to return two weeks later, on July 18. That gives her enough time to deal with the immediate aftermath of what happened and get past my fake funeral.

Entering the Void sucks. I hate this part of traveling through time more than anything; it feels like I don’t exist. But at least it’s over quickly. Warm air wraps around my skin like a welcoming blanket as soon as I emerge. I breathe in deeply, relishing the scent of pine and earth. This is what home feels like. Kind of ironic how much I wanted to get away from Willow Creek when I lived here.

And for once, I’m so thankful that I’m a Dual Talent. If I were only a Time Bender, I’d have to travel to what’s left of Willow Creek and shift to the past from there, which I could never do right now.

Upon opening my eyes, I find that I’m standing a little way down the path to the river. The opening in the trees that I know leads to the inn’s yard is visible, but not the house itself. I’m surprised to hear a lot of voices and laughter, like a party or something.

What could Aunt Grace be doing right now? From the slant of the sunlight streaming through the trees, I can tell that it’s late afternoon. Normally she would be preparing for supper, but I’m not so sure now. Before our lives were turned upside down, she had decided to sell the inn to her evil former sister-in-law. If I landed on a later date than I meant to, Aunt Grace could already have sold the house and moved.

Before I do anything else, I set a timer on my DataLink to alert me when two hours have passed. That way I won’t be tempted to stay too long. For every hour I spend in the past, the same amount of time passes in my own time.

I move toward the opening and peer out. What I see hits me like a punch to the face. The backyard is full of people dressed in formal clothes, all standing around talking and laughing. Underneath a huge white tent, round tables are set up, covered with white linens. Rows of white chairs are lined up before a flower covered arch.

Oh my God, this is a wedding. That must mean that Aunt Grace has already sold the inn. She’s gone. I want to sink to my knees, but I force myself to keep standing. So, I obviously missed my target date. Go me. I’ll just have to try again and hope that I don’t mess up.

But before I can shift again, a familiar figure appears in the crowd. It’s Aunt Grace, dressed in a royal-blue sleeveless dress. Her light brown curls are pinned up on her head, and she’s laughing and talking with several people. An electric feeling pulses through me. When I left Aunt Grace, she had been shot in her shoulder. She appears to be completely healed now. I must have really been off on my target date.

I want to race across the yard and fling myself into her arms, but of course that’s a stupid idea under the circumstances. If I want to talk to her, I’ll have to find a way to blend in until I can get close. I glance down at jeans and T-shirt. I can’t just waltz up to a wedding like this. And I need to hide my identity, since I’m supposed to be dead. Hopefully my bedroom is still intact.

I take a deep breath and picture my bedroom, focusing on the purple walls and fluffy comforter on my bed. I picture myself standing there, and before I can even open my eyes, I’m overwhelmed with the scent of lavender. The voices from the wedding outside are now muffled.

Then I’m hit with a wave of dizziness. Just great; I’m having a reaction to shifting so many times in such a short period of time. This usually happens when I shift more than four or five times in one day, but I guess that’s only when I’m bending space, not space and time together. My tutors in Chicago preferred to keep my space-bending and time bending-lessons separate.

I manage to make it to my bed and lie down, closing my eyes. After a few minutes, I’m able to sit up, though I feel slightly weak. I wish I could stay in here. Just being in this room brings back so many memories. When I was little, Aunt Grace used to tuck me in every night and read stories to me. And I would spend hours in here, drawing in my sketch book. I even remember Bridger being in here with me on the day I tracked down a man who knew my father in hopes of learning more about my past. I remember how close Bridger and I came to kissing.

And I remember how we did kiss at the river.

Heat rushes to my face. That’s the last thing I need to think about right now. Forcing myself to stand, I march over to my closet, search through my clothes—thankfully, Aunt Grace kept everything—and pull out a long, light-green sundress and a pair of silver sandals.

It feels heavenly to slip on the dress. I’m not really a dress-wearing kind of girl, but it’s so nice to wear something that actually belongs to me, not some clothes that Time Benders scavenged.

I check myself in the mirror. My hair hangs in loose waves down my back. That’s way too eye-catching. I need to hide it, but with what? Maybe a hat would work.

Five minutes later, I check the mirror again. My hair is pinned up under an oversized cream-colored beanie that I found in my dresser, and I’m wearing a pair of sunglasses.

Not the best disguise, but it’ll have to do.

Downstairs, I hear voices and realize that the house isn’t empty. My stomach knots when I spot some guests sitting in the front parlor, sipping champagne, and caterers in the kitchen prepping food. One of them looks up at me, quizzically. I lower my gaze and head out the back door.

Outside, I’m overwhelmed at the sheer number of people here. I get a few curious looks as I walk through the crowd. Way to go, Alora. At least I don’t recognize anyone so far.

It takes a little while, but I finally find Aunt Grace under the white tent, talking to the bride and groom. But I can’t just walk up to her; she would probably freak out. Instead, I search for one of the caterers and walk up to her. “Excuse me. Grace Evans is needed in the kitchen, but I don’t know who she is. Could you please give her the message?”

The lady looks skeptical, but she nods and sets out in Aunt Grace’s direction.

Feeling a bit smug, I turn around to go into the house, but I smack straight into a man behind me. I freeze, looking up at him. He’s tall, with brown hair and glasses. My first thought is Palmer, but no. This man is younger, maybe in his late twenties. Still, my heart is racing.

“Do I know you?” he asks, squinting at me. “You seem familiar.”

I just shake my head and push past him. I don’t allow myself to relax until I’m back inside the house. I go halfway down the hall and try to open the door to Aunt Grace’s study, but of course it’s locked.

The back door opens, and I whirl around. It’s Aunt Grace. She immediately locks eyes with me. and her mouth drops open as the blood drains from her face. “Oh my God,” she whispers, leaning against the wall. “You … you’re dead,” she says in a hoarse whisper.

Stupid, stupid DTA. They did take her memories.

I rush over to her and wrap my arms around her. She’s limp at first, then hugs me back, so tight that I can’t breathe. And there are tears. So many tears.

Behind us, I spot one of the caterers poking his head out of the kitchen. “Is everything all right?” he asks.

Aunt Grace glances at him, wiping her eyes. “Oh, yes, everything is perfectly fine.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Okay, ma’am. Let me know if you need anything,” he replies before retreating.

“Let’s go upstairs. I’m feeling a little faint,” Aunt Grace says.

Wrapping my arm around her back to support her, I help her climb the stairs to the second floor. I try to ignore the lingering guests and savor the sight of the inn as we walk down the hallway, past the front parlor, and up the stairs.

In my bedroom, I pull off the beanie and sunglasses and toss them on my dresser. Aunt Grace locks the door then leans her back against it, staring at me for a few moments. Then she crosses the room to fold me in another hug. “I’ve missed you so much. This past year has been so lonely without you.” She pulls back to look at me again. “I can’t believe you’re alive!”

I pull back from her, stunned. “Year? What’s the date?”

“It’s July 19, 2014. Why? You didn’t know that?”

“No,” I say, running a hand over my face. “I’m way off target.”

“Oh, sweetie, I can’t get over this! God, your body was found burned in that old shack in the woods! I had to bury you!” She holds her hand over her mouth for a second, trying to hold back a sob. “What happened? Is this something like what happened with Nate? Something with the government?”

My heart aches for her, knowing that she’s suffered for over a year, thinking I was dead. “I have something with me that will explain everything,” I say as I cross the room to retrieve the Mind Redeemer out of my pants pocket.

It doesn’t take nearly as long to restore her memories as it did mine. Apparently whoever wiped her mind only erased the few hours surrounding my “death.” How freaking kind of them.

Once she remembers everything, I catch her up on my life in my new time, and when I’m finished, she’s as mad as I am.

“I can’t believe that DT … whatever treated you like that! What did they expect to gain by erasing your memories and lying to you? Did they think you’d run away to see me all the time?” She pauses and holds up a hand. “Wait, scratch that last statement. You obviously did that, but that doesn’t mean you would’ve done it any other time without a good excuse, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve been following the rules. It’s just that I was so upset when I found out the truth. And I found Bridger and gave his memories back because I thought he’d help me, but I’m not sure if he will. He was just as mad as me, but he was also scared.” I pause and dig my fingers into the comforter. “I swear, Aunt Grace, if they had only trusted me with my own memories, I would’ve understood. I would’ve listened to them. But now … I don’t trust anybody from the DTA.”

Even as those words slip past my lips, I know they’re a lie. Sure, I don’t really belong in this time, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have a history here, and a relative I adore. Of course I’d have wanted to come see her, no matter what.

Aunt Grace purses her lips. “Maybe that’s the whole reason. I know you like I know myself. And there’s no way you would’ve agreed to never see me again. Maybe they took your memories to keep you from coming back here and messing with things. Remember how Bridger said the timeline had to be preserved, no matter what?”

“That’s ridiculous,” I reply. “I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the timeline. I don’t see how just visiting you would hurt.”

“Sweetie, maybe that’s just too big of a risk for them take. Even with you.”

I want to tell her she’s wrong, but I can’t. What she said makes sense. It doesn’t excuse the DTA’s decisions, but I can kind of see it from their point of view. I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am. And as much as I love seeing you, you need to go back. I wish you could stay forever. But if your mom reports you missing, you’re going to find yourself in some serious hot water. And you need to do whatever it takes to convince Bridger to help you find Nate and his own father.”

“I just got here, Aunt Grace. It won’t hurt to stay a little longer. Besides, I don’t know what’s going on with you. Has that psychopath, Palmer, come back? I’m worried about you.” I reach over and clasp her hand.

She squeezes back. “You don’t have to worry about me. I doubt he’ll come around here again, what with all the media attention. And with my new businesses, he wouldn’t dare show his face.”

I perk up. “I suppose that has something to do with the wedding?

Aunt Grace’s expression turns devious, and she laughs. “Oh, yes. After what happened with you, I decided it didn’t make sense for me to sell the house. We had so many memories here. So I kept the inn open, started a catering business, and I also rent out the grounds for weddings and parties.”

I find myself grinning. “I’m so happy for you. But how did Celeste react when you backed out of the deal?”

“It wasn’t pretty, but I really don’t care. Life’s too short.”

We talk for a few more minutes about the people in town, and then the timer on my DataLink beeps. My stomach sinks.

“What’s that?” Aunt Grace asks.

“I forgot that I had set my alarm. I need to go now.” I stand up and grab my jeans and T-shirt off the floor, along with the sneakers. “Do you mind if I just keep the dress?”

“You can take whatever you want.”

I glance around the room, wishing I could take everything with me. Impossible, but I still want to. Instead, I decide to take just one more thing that was important to me while I was here. I search through my backpack, which is still propped against my desk, and extract my old purple sketch pad, the one that I left behind. Clutching it to my chest, I turn to face Aunt Grace. “Okay, I guess I’m ready to go.”

Then the dam that’s been building inside me since I first arrived bursts, and tears flow down my face. Aunt Grace envelops me in a smothering hug.

When I pull away, sniffling, she says, “It’s okay to go. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

“I’m scared, Aunt Grace. What if the DTA finds out that I know about my past now and erases my memories again?”

“Then you just have to make sure that they don’t find out. I’m also counting on you to find Nate. And when you do, promise me that you both will come see me, at least once. I know you’re not supposed to mess with the past, but Nate used to visit me on my birthday and I don’t think that hurt anything. Okay?”

I nod. “I promise.”

I take a few steps away from her and give her a sad smile. “I love you, Aunt Grace.”

She wipes at her eyes and forces a smile. “Love you too. See you soon.”

Reluctantly, I close my eyes, clutching my sketch pad, my lifeline to the past. I think of the date I need to return to, and of my other bedroom that doesn’t feel like my bedroom. I barely notice entering the Void this time—I’m already numb. When I open my eyes again, I’m standing in my bedroom in New Denver.

And my mom is sitting on the bed, staring at me with a horrified expression. “Where have you been?” she asks in panicky voice. “And where did you get that dress?”

Oh my God, what is she doing in here? I was only gone two hours; she should have been asleep the whole time. I need an excuse—I don’t know if I can trust her with the truth. But all I can do is stand there like a Null, my brain completely empty.

“I thought someone from the DTA had taken you again,” she says, swiping tears from her eyes. “I came in here to check in on you and I couldn’t find you!”

I stare down at the floor, at the stupid silver sandals that I should have left behind, along with this stupid dress. Sure, I thought that Mom would sleep the whole time, but I should have considered the fact that she might not. I don’t know much about her. I don’t know if she likes to wake up early or if she prefers to stay up late. I don’t know her favorite color or her favorite food or what she likes to do for fun. What I do know is that she lost me once and when she learned I was living in the past, she was desperate enough to send Bridger’s father back to find me. Now I feel horrible for hurting her, for selfishly not thinking about how she would feel if she suddenly couldn’t find me. I cross the room and lean down to hug her.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I just … I just had to do something.” Despite my guilt, I can’t make myself tell her that I went to see Aunt Grace. I have no idea how she would react to that. “I couldn’t sleep again and I remembered that … that I had left this notebook and outfit at my quarters back at the Academy. They were going-away presents from my professors.”

It’s surprising how the lie came out of nowhere, how easily it slipped past my lips.

Mom stares at me for a few seconds. “I have no idea if that’s the truth, but I’m going to choose to believe you because I can’t lose you again. I just can’t, Alora.” She takes both of my hands in her own. “Please promise me that you won’t illegally shift again. You were supposed to have an Inhibitor on this weekend, and if the DTA so much as suspects that you’ve been shifting, I’m afraid they won’t let you come home with me anymore. Or even worse.”

At her words, my chests tightens and it feels as if someone has sucked all the air out of the room. I can’t let that happen, not if I’m going to search for Dad. From what she just said, I don’t think she would report me to the DTA if she knew that I’ve regained my memories. But I’m also sure she would do whatever it takes to keep me from searching for my father.

So I lie to her again.