One Month Later
TESS WALKED OUT of the admissions office, clutching a folder in one trembling hand. Jackson stepped from the shade of a maple and came to meet her.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
At those words, the kernel of panic inside her exploded. “I don’t know. It’s so late, and my school record is good, but it’s not exactly from a normal school, and the interview seemed all right, but maybe they were just being nice—”
He cut her off with a kiss. “They’re never being nice. I’m sure it went well, so I shouldn’t have asked.”
“What if I don’t get in?”
He put his hands around her waist. “Then you have a plan. What is it?”
“Work in Montreal and try for winter-term admission.”
“Exactly. And if you wanted to travel instead…” He met her gaze. “I won’t hold you back, Tess. I want the girl I met in Sainte-Suzanne, the girl who does exactly as she pleases. Admittedly, I would hope you wouldn’t plan to travel forever, or I might do something stupid, like follow you—”
“I’m not going anywhere. I will one day, but…”
She might not have traveled as far as she’d planned, but she’d found what she was looking for. A future. Not necessarily with a boy. That was nice—very, very nice—but it was like building a house on unstable ground. She had to make her own future. All her life she’d dreamed of traveling, and now she’d done it, and she realized it hadn’t been a destination so much as an escape. She’d wanted to get away from Hope and that constricted life. Moreover, she’d feared she didn’t have a future, not a long one, that in a few short years the visions and the nightmares would rob her of it, and so she had to do and see everything right away.
She knew now that she wasn’t going crazy. Which meant her future stretched ahead as far as she could see. Meeting Jackson and coming to McGill had shown her that she wanted something different. Like Jackson, she wanted to learn. Also like him, she had no idea what she wanted to learn. He was just starting to realize that himself, to admit that the path his parents had set him on—to a career in law—might not be what he wanted. They would explore their options together.
The trip to McGill for her interview was only a brief interlude in a busy summer. They’d reported Steve from Sainte-Suzanne, which had meant police interviews. Jackson’s father had helped with that. Tess was staying with Jackson’s family. They’d insisted she do that while they all unraveled the mysteries of what had happened at Sainte-Suzanne with Tess’s and Jackson’s mothers.
Tess had learned more about her mother, with the help of Jackson’s parents. She had indeed walked into the path of a car. Accidentally, from all reports. Had she been lost in one of her visions? Or was it a result of the experiments—the confusion and memory loss? Tess didn’t know, but she’d learn more someday. For now, she had a real name: Thérèse Vaillancourt. A real name and a glimpse into a real past.
Dr. Augustin had been right—there was no father’s name on her birth certificate. That didn’t bother Tess as much as she’d thought it might. She had her answers. As for her identity, that was up to her. She’d make her own. Discover her own.
“Tess?”
They were walking now through the campus, holding hands. Jackson looked over at her, his brows knitting.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Je vais bien,” she said, stopping and putting her arms around his neck. “Très bien. Et toi?”
He smiled. “Très, très bien,” he said and leaned down to kiss her.