The manuscript ended there.
Semele wiped the tears from her eyes, unable to believe that was it. There had to be more pages missing. There had to be.
Someone had defiled the manuscript. Someone had cut out the ending.
She felt bereft. The culprit could have been anyone over thousands of years of history: a copyist with an opinion, a religious clergyman intent on editing works, a government official from a new empire whose job it was to censure—the possibilities were endless. She shook her head in frustration. It could even have been whoever broke into her hotel room.
Now she understood why someone would break into Kairos to steal this manuscript. Ionna had predicted the rise of Stalin and both world wars with the detail of a historian looking forward instead of back. This memoir was truly a journey through time, spanning two thousand years.
A deep shiver ran down her spine as she thought back to Kezia and Nettie’s story. The whole family must have died. Where had the guard taken Nettie? Now she would never know. Finishing Ionna’s manuscript had only burdened her with more questions. There was no resolution.
Semele rubbed both of her temples, feeling a splitting headache coming on. She thought about the package her parents had received when they adopted her. She needed to find it tomorrow.
Her eyes grew heavy, and she was unable to escape sleep any longer. She reached over to turn out the light and looked at the dream stone on the nightstand, struck by the timing of Macy’s gift. It sat there like a message, a reminder. Dreaming was the one thing she had always tried to avoid—because her dreams always brought answers, answers she didn’t necessarily want. But she needed them desperately now.
As her consciousness began to slip through the sieve into the realm of dreams, for the first time she yearned for her grandmother.