EPILOGUE
ALORA
JULY 4, 2015
Sweltering heat and humidity surround my body the instant I emerge from the Void, greeting me like an old friend. It’s almost unbearable—like stepping into a sauna—especially since Bridger and I just shifted from a much cooler temperature. I’m glad we both put on shorts and T-shirts retrieved from this era just before we traveled through time.
For us, it’s December 17, 2149. It’s been almost two weeks since I graduated from the Academy, and over two years since our fathers died. For Aunt Grace, it will have been almost a year since she last saw me. I could have chosen any date to see her again, but I wanted this to be special. In this time, it’s her birthday.
I can’t wait to see her.
We’re standing at the edge of the tree line behind my former home, the old plantation house that she and her late husband turned into a bed-and-breakfast inn. Memories of my childhood surface. Aunt Grace having a tea party with me in the backyard when I was little, her reading bedtime stories to me and tucking me in each night. Me helping her prep the meals she served to guests who stayed with us.
I glance behind me. The path leading to the river is still there—the one that I used to run on daily.
I’m overcome with a sense of nostalgia, standing here looking at the place I lived for ten years. This still feels like home, and yet that life seems so far away. I’ve come to love living in my own time. I have my mom, Bridger and his family, and our friends. But I also long for Aunt Grace. When I lived here, I never felt like I fit in. But Aunt Grace always made me feel better. God, how I miss her.
Bridger’s hand tightens around mine. “Are you ready?”
I straighten my spine, steeling myself for what I’ve wanted to do ever since Dad sacrificed himself to save our future. “Yeah, let’s go.”
As we cross the yard. I soak up everything. The smell of freshly cut grass. The sweet scent of the roses blooming in Aunt Grace’s garden. Overhead, the sun is rising in the eastern sky. I chose to arrive at ten o’clock in the morning in case Aunt Grace had plans to go to the annual Fourth of July Jamboree that takes place in Willow Creek each year. Most of the years I lived with her, she wouldn’t go, but on the final year—the year that I officially died—she insisted we both attend.
Aunt Grace’s old truck is parked near the back porch, along with an unfamiliar vehicle. Hopefully, business is still good and she doesn’t have to worry about money like she did for so many years.
“So how do you want to do this?” Bridger asks when we reach the back porch.
I think for a moment before replying, “Let’s go around front and ring the doorbell. I don’t want to march inside and have her freak out in front of any guests that may be around.”
As we circle the house, we pass by the old oak tree that’s near the front of the house. That was the one I had planned to climb down when Aunt Grace accidentally locked me in the attic. That was on the day I was trying to find out answers about my dad. It was also the day that Bridger first entered my life.
When we’re on the front porch, Bridger squeezes my hand again. “You’ve got this.”
I nod and ring the doorbell.
What feels like an eternity passes before the door swings open. Aunt Grace is standing in front of me, dressed in khaki shorts and a dark green T-shirt. Her pleasant smile morphs into a jaw drop, then she squeals and rushes forward, pulling me into a crushing embrace.
“Sweetie, I’ve missed you so much!” she says.
By the time she lets me go, I’m in tears. Bridger touches my shoulder, and Aunt Grace looks back and forth at us with a confused expression.
“Bridger? I thought I’d never see you again. Why are you here?”
His eyes search out mine, his face turning red. I can’t say anything just yet, so Bridger nods. “Well, we’re sort of … together.”
“Like dating together?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says.
Aunt Grace covers her mouth with both of her hands and takes a step back. “Wow, that’s fantastic. I’m really happy for y’all.” She cocks her head to the side, now frowning slightly. “How old are you two now?”
I somehow find my voice. It’s barely a whisper. “I’m nineteen and Bridger is twenty, but our birthdays are coming up soon.”
“My word, this is so surreal,” she says. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again. You or Nate.” Now her eyes lock on mine again, then she looks over my shoulder–I can tell she’s searching for Dad. “I thought Nate would …”
And my tears start flowing again.
“He’s not coming back, is he sweetie?” Aunt Grace asks in a gentle voice.
“No,” I whisper.
For a moment, I think that Aunt Grace might faint. She blinks a few times and seems to sway slightly.
“Are you okay?” Bridger asks, stepping forward to take her by the arm.
Aunt Grace holds up her hands to stop him. “I’ll be fine.” She looks over her shoulder, tears glistening in her eyes, then motions for us to enter. “Come inside. I need to sit down.”
“What about your guests?” I ask, since I’m technically dead in this time.
“They’re all from out of state, and most aren’t even here right now,” she says. “Everyone’s getting ready for the Jamboree downtown.” She glances up at the ceiling. “One couple’s still upstairs, but at breakfast they said they were going to stay in most of the morning.”
Once Bridger and I are seated on the couch in the front parlor, she takes one of the chairs across from us. Her hands clutch the armrests as she says, “Okay, I’m ready. Tell me everything.”
It’s like a huge pressure is released from my chest as Bridger and I relate what’s happened to us over the past two years, starting with the events that led to his father and my dad dying on the same day. We end by sharing what’s going on in our lives now: I’m about to start my first job as an artifact retrieval tech based out of New Denver, and Bridger is stationed at a military base just outside of Chicago.
“So, you’re living with your mom?” Aunt Grace asks hopefully.
“No, ma’am. She transferred to the History Alive Network’s main office in New York. She didn’t want to go, but they offered her a raise that she couldn’t refuse. I’m still staying at her apartment, and one of my friends is moving in with me next week.”
I smile now, thinking of how Everly talked her mom into moving back to the North American Federation last year, once things finally began to settle down between Gen Mods and Purists. We were thrilled to graduate together.
After President Tremblay was arrested for colluding with General Anderson and others to detonate the bioweapon, they were all Nulled. His VP became president and she worked hard to improve relations throughout the federation. The Responsible Citizen Act was repealed, and biological weapons were banned. She even decided to publicly admit to the existence of Dual Talents. While some people reacted with the same prejudice as Anderson and his conspirators, most people welcomed them. After all, the Dual Talents that existed were already their friends and neighbors; people had just never known the extent of their abilities.
“How are things with you two?” Aunt Grace asks, raising her eyebrows. “You’re in different cities. Is the long-distance thing working out?”
Bridger shrugs. “My family still lives in New Denver, so I fly down once a month to visit. Alora shifts to visit me whenever she wants.”
Aunt Grace looks at me in amazement. “I still can’t get over that. So, you’re allowed to go anywhere you want just by thinking about it?”
“I’m not supposed to. We’re only supposed to bend space while on the job, but I do it anyway,” I say. “A few days ago, I went down to Mexico City to visit some friends who are assigned to the artifact retrieval division there. I had supper with them and was back in time to go to sleep.”
Bridger gives me a side-eyed look. “I didn’t know you visited Elijah and Tara.”
“Sorry, I forgot to invite you. I was too busy planning this trip with your grandmother,” I say.
Bridger and I both look down at the shiny Chronobands fastened to our wrists. Two days ago, Bridger’s grandmother came by to visit me at my apartment. I was happy to see her, but still surprised to see her on her own. I usually only see her when Bridger and I visit her apartment, or when we go out to dinner with our families.
I was shocked when I found out why she stopped by.
Apparently, shortly after she took General Anderson’s place as head of the DTA’s military division, and after Bridger and I officially started dating, she decided to look more into my background. She was especially curious about how Aunt Grace’s house ended up as a perfectly preserved museum in our era. Her investigation revealed that Grace willed the house to the state under the condition that it never be sold—it could only be passed to a direct descendant.
Which means that, in my time, I’m now the legal owner of the house, which I plan to leave as a museum.
When I asked General Creed the exact date that Aunt Grace set this up, she stunned me by saying that it was completed on July 7, 2015. General Creed traveled back in time to determine my aunt’s motivation, and witnessed Bridger and me visiting with Aunt Grace today. From there they were able to figure out the date that we would depart from in our time. General Creed confessed that she was angry at first, then realized that we had Chronobands, which we would never have access to on our own, since the DTA confiscated the ones that Ellis gave to us.
Recognizing that our visit was a part of the timeline now, she knew that she would have to be the one to give us the Chronobands.
“You can’t argue with history,” she had said with a shrug as she handed me the Chronobands.
“Is this the only time you’ll let me visit my aunt?” I had asked.
“I don’t know yet,” she had replied. “I’d prefer not to see this happen again, but I’ve learned that in this profession, you can never say never.”
Aunt Grace suddenly stands, running her right hand along her forehead. “You know what? I think we should go on a picnic to celebrate. Let me get something together and I’ll be right back,” she says.
“No, we’ll help,” Bridger says.
After Bridger and I help her pack sandwiches, several pieces of pound cake, chocolate chip cookies, and lemonade, we head toward the dock at the river.
We spend the next hour laughing, talking, and eating. And oh man, the food is so delicious. So much better than what we have access to in our time. Aunt Grace fills us in on what’s has happened in Willow Creek over the past few years. Of course, nothing much has changed.
“What about Mr. Palmer?” I ask, feeling slightly sick to my stomach.
“He’s dead,” Aunt Grace says in a flat voice. “I’ve been keeping an eye out for him, and I found out that he died in a car accident back in January.”
Relief floods through me. I’d never wish something like that to happen anyone under normal circumstances, but Palmer was evil. At least I don’t have to worry about him ever bothering Aunt Grace again, or hurting any other girls.
My DataLink chimes, alerting me that our time is up. When Bridger’s grandmother helped set up this trip, even flying Bridger and me to Georgia on a private shuttle so he could shift directly on the property, she said she was only giving us four hours to visit. She said we didn’t need to contaminate the timeline any more than we had to.
Remembering that, I quickly share what happens to the house in the future. Aunt Grace’s eyes grow wide. “I’ve never quite been sure what I should do with the place once I’m gone,” she says. “At least I know it’ll be taken care of, and you’ll get it again one day.”
I find myself growing teary-eyed again. Four hours isn’t nearly enough time. I could stay with Aunt Grace for days.
But I know that’s not possible.
“Don’t forget the drawing,” Bridger reminds me.
“What drawing?” Aunt Grace asks.
I pull a folded piece of paper out of my shorts pocket. Bridger’s grandmother forbade us from bringing anything that could contaminate the timeline from our time to this year. But I thought something simple wouldn’t hurt.
It’s a drawing of me with Vika. I’d caught her up on the situation with Vika while we were eating our lunch.
Aunt Grace’s hands shake as she looks at the drawing. “So this is Nate’s other daughter. I’m glad she’s okay now,” she says.
“Alora, we’ve got to go,” Bridger says gently.
And once again, I find myself hugging Aunt Grace and crying.
“Do you think you can come back again?” she asks.
“I don’t know. I promise I’ll try,” I say in a quivering voice.
Aunt Grace pulls away from me and places both of her hands on my shoulders. Her eyes lock on mine. “I want you to do that. But don’t do anything that can jeopardize your future. I know now that you’re safe. You’re going to even end up with the house, which makes me happy. No matter what, my heart’s at peace knowing that you’re still alive and well.” She lets go of me, and takes a few more steps back on the dock. “Now, you two need to go. I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me,” she says.
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you, too, sweetie. Always and forever.”
I take Bridger’s hand and this time I give it a squeeze. “Ready?” I ask him.
“Yes,” he replies. “See you later, Grace.”
“Look after my girl. I’ll haunt you if you don’t,” she says, trying to smile.
We check our Chronobands and close our eyes. As I picture the return date and enter the Void, I push back the sadness I’m feeling. I’m going home, where I belong with my family and friends. But I’ll find a way to see Aunt Grace again. If General Creed doesn’t let me use a Chronoband, I can always free shift.
Even though I never felt like I fit in while I lived with Aunt Grace, that time is a part of me. I can’t pretend that those years never happened, and visiting her today has made me fully realize that. In order for me to move on, I’ll have to embrace both parts of my life. I will always be a product of two different eras. Two different eras that have shaped me into the person I am today.
I can’t wait to see what the future holds for me.
The End