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The cicadas sang cheerfully as we drove through the dusky twilight on the way to the Hourglass. It made what I was about to do feel even more surreal, as if I should be catching lightning bugs in a jar and playing flashlight tag instead of resurrecting the dead.
Cat maneuvered her car up the long drive skillfully, keeping a close eye on the rearview mirror. Satisfied that no one had followed us, she pulled over, parking close to a willow tree. The low-hanging branches partially obscured the car.
“We’re going to go straight to Liam’s old office inside the house. Follow me, and act like you’re supposed to be here, no matter who we see or what they say.”
“Got it.”
“When I open the bridge, you need to focus on when you and Michael went into the lab together. And you have to be careful not to be seen by anyone—I mean anyone, Emerson. No matter how tempted you are to call out to Michael, you can’t do it until after you and Liam have left the lab. You’ll have seconds before the explosion.”
I looked down at my clothing and hoped it would be enough to persuade him it was a “different” me. We’d cleaned up the warm coat I wore to travel back to save Liam as best as we could, and I’d added a bright green scarf. I had my hair long and loose instead of pulled back in a ponytail. I’d also tucked Kaleb’s silver circle into my pocket as a good-luck charm.
“You have to convince him to cooperate. If he refuses, if something happens to you …”
She didn’t have to complete the sentence. If anything happened to me, no one would be coming back to save us.
“You keep saying ‘if.’ It’s not doing a lot for my confidence.”
She grasped my forearm and squeezed. “You need to understand what kind of risk you’re taking. Do you?”
I nodded.
I followed her to the house, trying not to look terrified. Cat didn’t knock or use a key, just opened the front door and walked in. I caught a quick impression of open spaces and warm colors as she pulled me into a dark room.
She gestured through the doorway. “The hallway leads you to a sitting room. In that room is a set of French doors that exit onto the patio. The patio has a stone wall that you can use as a shield. Once you hit the grass you’ll have to make a run for it to avoid being seen.”
“What do I do if—”
The question was interrupted by the sound of a door opening and closing. Cat grabbed me, pushing me down behind the desk. Muffled voices filled the air, and then disappeared.
“If you’re going to go, the time is now.” She lifted her hands and the sphere appeared. Her face glowed in its eerie light. “Are you ready?”
I stood and stepped into the veil.
Chapter 51
The long tube of light was illuminated in the same soft shades of water and silver as the night before. It felt different without Michael by my side, less thrilling, more terrifying. I twisted the ring and concentrated on the date of Liam’s death, holding the scene of Michael and me crossing the grass to the lab in my mind. Thoughts of the things we’d said, the things we hadn’t said, kept trying to intrude. I forced myself to focus. I could almost imagine Michael’s voice in my ear, encouraging me to do the same.
Soon I could hear the unfiltered sounds and see the shimmer that signified the end of my journey. When everything went quiet again, I stayed inside the bridge, scoping out the room, making sure I was alone. All I could see was a faint hint of light shining from an illuminated bookshelf.
It appeared to hold a collection of hourglasses, from the most archaic designs to the most futuristic. I hadn’t noticed them when I’d been standing in the room with Cat.
I stepped through the veil and tiptoed to the doorway of Liam’s office, peeking my head out just like I had fifteen minutes ago, but in a completely different time. The house felt as empty as it had then. It was now cloaked in a darkness so deep I cursed myself for having not brought a flashlight. I tiptoed toward the French doors that led out to the patio and pushed down carefully on the curved door handles.
Locked.
And then, behind me, the unmistakable sound of footsteps.
Panic clawed its way up my chest. I stopped the scream bubbling in my throat and looked over my shoulder.
I was alone.
Turning my attention back to the doors, I felt for a push button. There was only a deadbolt—the kind that had to be unlocked with a key.
“Okay, think, think, think.” I searched for a hook on the wall or a side table, hoping I’d miraculously find what I was looking for. No luck. A memory tugged at me, and I lifted my eyes, catching a glimpse of something sitting on top of the doorframe.
A key.
Exactly where my parents used to store the bathroom key in case I locked myself in when I was little. I stretched as high as I could and cursed under my breath. Too short. I didn’t dare jump—if I missed more than once, made too much racket, I might not have time to get outside.
