“We reversed the death of Ichabod Travers, so technically we disjointed destiny a bit—although briefly.” Skyla shudders. “That was a disaster that thankfully got mopped upquickly.”
“Because of your mother,” Dudley notes. “The trial was thrown out because of your mother.” He looks to me with those bloodlets he calls eyes. “You sit among us because of hermother.”
Skyla reaches over and takes up my hand. It feels like a peace offering, and I’ll take it. “I may not always show it, but I’m so thankful for thatTreble.”
“Not the Treble.” Dudley gives a disparaging sigh as if disappointed we’re not able to follow him down the dimly lit—crooked as hell path he’s leading us down. “The time beforethat.”
“My first reentry?” It’s true. Candace sponsored that little visit aswell.
“Precisely.” He leans in. “How old were you when Gage wasborn?”
The first alarming detail is the fact that he just used Gage’s proper name, a loaded gun of a moment if you ask me. The second fucking alarming detail is the fact he wants me to cannonball into the numbers end of the swimming pool—details I myself have spent my new lifetime trying to forget. For whatever reason, placing the microscope over the past makes me feel less real, less than genuine in this new reality. I hate this, and suddenly I want to be anywhere buthere.
“Logan?” Skyla gives my hand a squeeze. “I guess you were alive, weren’tyou?”
“I was. I don’t remember exactly. I might have beentwelve.”
“Twelve?” Dudley plays the part of being amused, poorly at that. He’s no thespian, but then he’s bent on turning my life into a circus so I give him the floor. “You were about eighteen years younger than Barron. Is that correct?” I give a slight nod. “Jock Strap came bumbling into the world when Barron was in his thirties. And when did Your Grace come to the facility to visit your twisted, deformed body?” His head tilts with curiosity. I was disfigured from the burns. My body never healed from the fire that took my parents’life.
“In my thirties? I can’t remember.” It comes out low, like a threat, and I’m pretty sure it is one. I don’t know where Dudley is going with this, but I’m one hundred percent sure I don’t likeit.
“How old was Gage at that time?” Skyla asks it forhim.
Dudley grins on cue. “Early twenties—that would bring us to date, wouldn’t it?” He turns to Skyla. “Gage and you alone on Paragon. Can you imagine that? You and Jock Strap running around on the island with no one else to muck up the love-struckwaters.”
Skyla leans in with her lips curving at the corners. “Did that reality everexist?”
“Of course, it did.” Dudley glances back at me. “For atime.”
“Then”—Skyla looks right through the wall as she pieces it all together—“my mother changed our destinies. All ofthem.”
“Why would she do such a thing, Skyla?” He’s probing her, jabbing her in a corner with his imaginary blade of truth until she comes to the conclusionherself.
“This is old news.” I give Skyla’s hand a quick rattle, trying my hardest to pull her out from hisspell.
“Old news in a new light.” She leans back in her seat, her eyes unable to focus on any one object in the room as she tries to force the puzzle pieces together. “My mother changed our destinies at this juncture.” Skyla fastens her eyes on me once again. “She could have done it when you were a baby, but she didn’t. Was there something there she was trying to salvage in that alternate reality—something she needed before you could moveon?”
“What could it be?” Dudley is clearly goading her along, that sarcastic infraction in his voice says itall.
“I guess that’s for me to find out.” The words leave her lipsbreathlessly.
“You look exhausted, dear.” Dudley helps her rise to her feet, and I followsuit.
Dudley rocks his knuckles over the table. “I’m about to take the two of you on a little field trip.” He scowls my way as if I were the uninvited third wheel. He nods me over, and I land a hand over his arm, with the other wrapped around Skyla’s waist. “Shall we start at thebeginning?”
“Always.” Skyla’s voice vibrates and warbles as the molecules around us shatter and break and a new alien structure surrounds us. “A hospital?” Skyla looks down and gasps. An entire row of infants sits in clear bassinets in the spacious room we’ve landed ourselves. “The newborn nursery!” Her voice is locked in an excitedwhisper.
Here we are in what looks to be the exact place where Skyla gave birth, the wordsParagon Hospitalare printed on the adjacent wall with a list of nurses on call. Something is different. The mustard-colored walls, the cheap linoleum squares lining the floor, the flimsy looking acrylic bassinets that each stores their own bundle of joy—all of it seems just a little bitoff.
“God, they’re all so adorable!” Skyla muses as she peruses the aisles of infants as if they were puppies. “My God”—she leans in toward a dark-haired boy and extracts him gently from his plastic confinement—“this one looks like my sweet babyBarron!”
“Skyla.” I glance behind her as a group of nurses share a laugh over something. They might be momentarily distracted, but I’m guessing we’ll have a security issue on our hands before long—the issue beingus.
“We’re undetectable,” Dudley is quick to inform. “Although, I’m sure a floating infant might be cause foralarm.”
“This isParagon.” Skyla rubs her cheek against the tinybeing.
Dudley towers over her shoulder as they inspect the precious infant together. “What if I told you this seemingly innocent babe would one day be responsible for the destruction of your people? Should we snuff the life out of his tiny little nostrils? Snuff out the fire, Skyla. You’re living in revisionisthistory.”
