From a dreamless sleep, Sophie Mae winced at the tea kettle screaming from the kitchen. Through puffy eyes, she saw Ms. Ruby enter the room. The heavy-set woman perched on the coffee table next to her. “Oh, you’re awake! How do you feel?”

Rousing from the couch, she met Ms. Ruby’s concerned eyes. “Where’s Ernest? He has the key.”

“Everything is under control,” she said, rubbing Sophie Mae’s hair. “George and Mr. Langston are confronting Ernest right now. Your part of the plan was successful, and now you need to rest. I’ve made you tea. Would you like some food as well?”

“Yes, please.”

Ms. Ruby left for the kitchen, and Sophie Mae grabbed her sandals and fled the cottage. Several weeks from a full, bright moon, she carefully maneuvered the path to the main house. Footsteps along the path grew louder. She hunkered in the bushes and watched as Dink ran past on her way to the cottage. She’ll be safer with Ms. Ruby.

Traversing the kitchen, Sophie Mae rushed to the basement doorway and peered down the stairs. Ernest knelt to the lab door whose handle resisted his attempts to enter.

A deep whisper carried from Ernest’s throat and up the stairwell. “You’re never locked. Open now, or I will break you off with an ax.”

With a whimpering click, the door swung wide. Light from the room shone along the landing as he strutted inside.

Sophie Mae padded to the door and peeked around the frame, finding Ernest at the far wall, shoving vials from the cabinet.

Clouds of colored smoke lifted toward the ceiling as the bottles busted along the stone floor. Ernest’s hand stopped at the potion labeled Invisible, and he slammed the cabinet door.

Dust clung to Sophie Mae’s pants as she crawled past the doorway and behind the black tables. Keeping her breath under control proved difficult when the scratching of dress shoes announced she and Ernest weren’t alone. The plan was underway and Sophie Mae pulled her eyes to the edge of the countertop.

“You’re too late, gentlemen. I’ve got the potion.” Ernest turned to George and Oscar D standing guard over the door.

“Hand it over!” George commanded.

“And why should I? This potion was partly my discovery, if you recall. I’ve earned the right to use it.”

Oscar D snorted. “Why can’t you leave us alone? We only want to live in peace. You’re no longer welcome here after what you’ve done.”

“What I’ve done? Oh, Oscar. I always thought you an intelligent man, which makes me question why you put your faith in this circus performer? Has he made your life better by secluding you from the public, your family?’

“The right question is why you insist on interfering with my plans? I want to save the populace from the deadly effects of famine and droughts. What could be nobler than this?”

“The cure you advise could be worse than the sickness,” George said. “It needs more testing before we give it to everyone. What you propose is insanity.”

“I take that as a compliment,” Ernest said, examining a beaker from the work desk. “Do you remember the story you told me about Semmelweis? You know, the doctor who preached that washing hands could stop the spread of disease. What did he get for his troubles? An award? Far from it. He was committed to a sanitarium and labeled insane. What others call crazy, I call…enlightened.”

“George has everyone’s best interest in mind,” Oscar D said.

“Oh, you didn’t tell them, did you?” Ernest beamed, walking toward George. “This honorable man has a dark secret concerning Ms. Catherine that would make your blood boil. Tell him, Mr. Cain.”

George shifted his weight. “I only wanted to help Ms. Catherine.”

“Don’t be so humble,” Ernest taunted. “Tell him the rest.”

Lingering closer to his traveling box and the second phase of the plan, George spoke. “I made a potion, and it worked when I tested it on myself. Ernest warned me there was a problem with the stability of the particles, but I refused to listen. I gave Ms. Catherine the concoction, and it appeared to be working. With her illness gone, she moved around the house as if she were reverse aging. We kept it secret in case she made a turn for the worse.”

“And it certainly turned worse,” Ernest added. “In fact, Catherine vanished from the estate to who knows where. Mr. Cain didn’t want me telling you or the others he’d made a mistake, so he banished me with only the secret to my name.”

“Is that true, George?” Oscar D asked. “What did you do to the missus?”

“I cured her. Her illness went away, and she lived.”

Ernest shrugged. “It’s the truth, I’m afraid. She lived, but not the way you imagine. No, far more theatrical. They say a good showman always seeks to entertain.”

George walked to the cabinet and grabbed the file with Ms. Catherine written across the front. He turned to a page near the end and read his notes aloud.

May 12, 1935:

Ms. Catherine insists she’s never felt better. It appears I’ve done it. Ernest was wrong about the potion’s weakness.

May 30, 1935:

The mistress has been missing for ten days. I’m afraid I may have lost her.

July 6, 1935:

Today, I found Ms. Catherine in her room, working on her knitting. It appears she comes and goes from this present to the past and has spoken about attending movie premieres and spending time with her fans. She understands this time shift and appears to be managing the situation with a rational mind. As a side note, Ernest and I have such a strong disagreement over the outcome, I’m afraid we cannot work together any longer.

“What Ernest didn’t know was that Ms. Catherine was traveling through time. I understood if he learned of the potion’s ability, he would use it to change his sister’s fate. I couldn’t let him upset the past. It would’ve jeopardized our research.”

“Ms. Catherine appears from time to time in the house. When she’s here, I examine her for illness and signs of mental clarity. She’s in perfect health. Recently, she’s been here more than not, and I believe she will return for good.”

Ernest loosened the collar of his shirt, “What utter nonsense…time travel? What else have you got?”

“It’s the truth. She had me keep the secret until we were certain she’d stabilize in our time. Ms. Catherine made it very clear Ernest wasn’t to return to the house. His plan to use the potion on the masses was unethical.”

Ernest clapped his hands. “Bravo! Once a performer, always a performer!”

Sophie Mae slid down the side of the table and curled her legs. Drawing anger from the years of hunger and loneliness, she bounded to her feet. “How could you, Mr. George? You used everyone in this house, including me, to condemn an innocent man.”

Ernest put his arm around Sophie Mae. “Ah, there you are. Let’s drink to prosperity, shall we?” He popped off the lid and toasted the air, pausing as his eyes glanced over the peeling label. “Where are my manners, ladies first?”

Sophie Mae grabbed at Ernest’s face as he seized her jaw and lifted the bottle to her mouth. “Open wide.”

Oscar D hurled himself toward the struggling girl, pulling her to the ground.

Ernest slid the microscope from the desk and slammed it into Oscar D’s head, sending him flying into the cabinets. Sophie Mae crawled to the warm blood soaking the stone floor.

George tucked his travel box under his arm like a football and charged Ernest who curled over in pain. .

“This is over,” George yelled. “How many people have to get hurt? How many times do I have to turn you away? Your soul’s crushed, and this potion won’t fix it. Let me help you or leave us alone.”

“I don’t think so,” Ernest said. His gray eyes and vein-ridden face inflated like a balloon as he looked at George. Ernest’s hands tripled in size and his arms and legs busted the seams on his clothes. Light bulbs popped, and the glass shattered as his head banged against the rafters.

“What’s happened to you?”

“You did this to me with your potion. You’re a lousy chemist, and I’m living proof.”

Ernest snatched the travel box from George and crushed it with his bare hands. The angry giant turned his attention to Sophie Mae, who slithered back behind the tables. Her fingertips reached the drawer where she pulled out her own travel box, which she’d hidden there hours before.

Clutching it, she focused on her grandma’s face, knowing she’d never see it again. I have to save my friends. It’s what she’d want me to do.

Ernest stomped closer. Gritting her teeth, Sophia Mae latched to his ankle. “Madrosa!”

George panicked at the word and flung himself into the flash of light.