Page 87

“Okay, if you don’t call the police, I will.”

“Call the police all you want,” she said as she walked to the door. “I’m going.”

Chapter 35

Oxford, July 13, 2021

It took Rogene four days to sign the book deal and to get the lawyer to transfer all royalties and the advance to David—record time. Being of age now, he didn’t need to be left under the protection of a legal guardian or social services.

So Rogene knew he didn’t technically need her, other than she was the only close family he had left.

And he hers.

But she knew she needed to live her own life. She couldn’t control David, his opinions, and his decisions. She couldn’t shield him from everything, and he no longer needed her protection. With a scholarship to Northwestern, he could now start a new, exciting life on his own.

Since she’d told him she was leaving, they’d barely talked other than that he continued trying to get her to go the police. He stared at her with concern as she packed the bag of necessities she’d take with her to the fourteenth century. Vitamins. Antibiotics—different kinds for different bacteria. Clothes for the baby. Warm socks. Shoes! Good, sturdy, warm shoes. Books… Damn, she couldn’t take many, and they were heavy, so she settled on a children’s book, a book on biology and the basics of medicine, one on herbalism, and one on the basics of engineering.

All the paperwork had been done superfast. She’d even prepared a will and left everything to David. But she hadn’t told him that. She’d also left a suicide note. Her death would probably be easier for the police to accept and David would get his inheritance faster.

She realized those thoughts were cold and calculating, but, she supposed, that was her historian’s mind.

It was afternoon the day before the wedding when she felt like she was ready. She had her backpack on her shoulders, and the most authentic medieval costume she could find online was in the small messenger bag that she wore across her body.

She had about ten hours of driving ahead of her. She’d probably need to stop for a few hours and nap, but she had no more time to waste.

Four days was as fast as she could get all the legal stuff done. If she was going to stop the wedding, she had to do it as soon as possible.

She opened the apartment door to walk out into the hall and looked back at David’s closed door. There was no music. And she thought she’d said everything there was to say. He didn’t believe her. She didn’t blame him. But she wished this all was different.

Knowing she’d never see him again, she at least had to say goodbye.

“David,” she said, half turned to the door, “I’m going.”

The door flew open. He stared at her, his broad shoulders tight, lips pursed in a fierce line and shook his head.

“I love you,” she said. “Will you hug me?”

“No. I’m not saying goodbye because you’re not going.”

Another blow to her gut. “I love you. Remember that.”

She turned and started down the stairs when she heard steps behind her.

“Come on, Rogene, don’t leave,” he said as he climbed down the stairs with her. “Let me help you. We’ll find a shrink. You probably have PTSD.”

“I don’t have PTSD. And I need to hurry.”

“If you think I’m going to let you go to some sort of a sick psycho, think twice.”

They were now outside the building and walking towards the tiny car she’d rented. She opened the trunk and threw her backpack in.

When she closed it and walked to the driver’s door, David was blocking it. “Rory!” he said helplessly.

“Move,” she said. “I’m not kidding.”

They stared at each other in that familiar siblings contest she’d always won. She did, again, and David sighed and stepped to the side, letting her open the door.

“Bye, David,” she said with a sinking heart.