Logan gives my hand a squeeze and gives a solemn nod in agreement.
I turn to Wes and Laken. “We won’t be following her anywhere for the foreseeable future.”
“Wise choice.” Laken gives us one more hug. “Take care of each other.”
And with that, they both take off, leaving Logan and me alone on the beach with nothing but the sound of waves and the warm glow of home above us.
“So, Mrs. Oliver,” Logan says, wrapping his arms around my waist. “How does it feel to be back where we belong?”
“Like I can finally breathe again,” I whisper, sliding my hands up his shirt to warm them. “Like everything might actually be okay.”
“More than okay,” he murmurs, leaning down until his forehead touches mine. “We saved our children, we saved our future, and we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.”
“With exactly who we’re supposed to be with.” I land a kiss on his lips as if to punctuate my point.
His smile is soft and warm, and everything I’ve missed during our chaotic trip through the past. “I love you, Skyla Oliver.”
“I love you, too,” I breathe, rising on my toes to meet his lips once more.
But before our lips can touch, the air around us explodes in a shower of silver dust.
“Well, well, well.”
We jerk back to see Candace materializing from a spray of miniature stars like some kind of cosmic party crasher—anunwanted one at that. Her gold tresses hold the moonlight hostage, and her expression carries that familiar mix of amusement and superiority that always makes me want to hide under a rock.
“Mother,” I say, my voice rife with anger. “Perfect timing, as always.”
She belts out a laugh that flirts with something wicked. “I’m impressed, children. Truly. Most people would have accepted their fate and made the best of things, but you—you jumped right back into the fire.”
“We fixed the timeline,” Logan says, his arm tightening around my waist as if he’s afraid she might snatch me away. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Did you?” Candace tilts her head with mock curiosity. “How lovely. Did you really think I wouldn’t have a backup plan?”
Something cold settles in my stomach. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing catastrophic. Just a few minor adjustments to account for your… intervention.” Her smile turns sharp around the edges. “All was not lost on my end. Or more to the point, Demetri’s.”
The ice in my stomach spreads until I can barely feel my fingers. “What kind of adjustments?”
“Well, let’s see. Your delightful parents finally followed through on those cruise ship dreams. Lovely for them, really. Though I’m afraid Tad developed quite the wanderlust. Didn’t want to stop cruising, you see. Very inconvenient for your mother, who prefers stability.”
My mouth goes dry. “Mom?”
“Oh, Lizbeth is fine. Remarried, actually. To someone much more suitable.” Candace’s eyes glitter with malicious satisfaction. “She and Demetri had such a lovely ceremony. It was very intimate. I hear they’re quite happy together.”
I stagger backward against Logan’s chest. “No. No, that’s not—that can’t be—” My head spins with the thought. “I thought nothing critical would change,” I whisper as my voice cracks with disbelief.
Logan’s arm tightens around me once again. “This is Demetri we’re talking about. We gave him an inch, he took a celestial mile.”
“I’m afraid it’s true,” Candace continues with far too much satisfaction. “You see, when you fixed the timeline to preserve your little love story, you created a ripple effect. Tad’s early retirement led to extended cruising, which led to marital discord, which led to divorce, which led to your mother finally accepting Demetri’s centuries-old proposal.” Candace averts her eyes at the thought. “It’s really quite poetic, don’t you think? For him, anyway. Of course, Mia and Melissa chose opposing sides in the divorce and are no longer speaking. Melissa all but gave the finger to the factions and is in Antarctica doing research on lab mice.” Her grin grows wider.
And there it is. My mother gets her wish. At least one of her future headaches has been contained—for now. And that leaves my children for her to worry about.
“Drake and Brielle chose sides, too, and their divorce was much more dramatic,” she goes on. “Drake got Ellis into gambling, and now they’re both broke, and Gage was run over by Bree, who has taken to day drinking, and he can’t walk three steps without crutches. Although he much prefers the wheelchair. It seems Daddy Demetri took away his self-healing properties. Would you like an update on yourselves? Chloe is involved. It’s fascinating how that always seems to happen.”
We didn’t save anything. We just traded one nightmare for another, and now my mother is married to the literal devil while my stepfather is sailing around the world scarfing down on midnight buffets and floozies. Not to mention poor Bree, Drake, and Gage. And it takes everything in me not to fill in the blanks about Chloe.
“You’re bluffing,” I whisper.
