“Funny,” I say, stabbing another bite of pancake. “I have no recall of that happening either.” As much as Tad took pride in working for Althorpe, he wasn’t exactly a fan of being there.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mom asks, furrowing her brows my way.
“Nothing,” I’m quick to backpedal. “It’s just that... Aunt Karen never mentioned coming when we talked last.” Not that Mom mentions her unless she’s got fresh dirt to dish. Those wine-fueled character assassinations are basically our mother-daughter quality time.
Mia and Melissa exchange a glance before Mia pipes up from the couch. “We were thinking of doing volunteer work at the zoo that week.”
“Thezoo?” I echo in disbelief.
“Yeah, the Paragon Zoo,” Melissa adds with too much faux enthusiasm. “They need help with the... you know, theanimals.” She and Mia exchange a wicked grin. I have a feeling they’ll be dealing with animals, all right, of the human variety, specifically the male species.
The Paragon Zoo is more of a hiccup than an actual full-fledged zoo, featuring three depressed sea lions, a geriatric bear, and an assortment of birds that look as if they’re plotting an escape. And if they’re not, they should be. But I know for a fact that this zoological volunteer work never happened. It’s an obvious cover so they can go off with boys who belong in cages.
Zoo is probably code for wherever seventh-grade boys hang out. The skateboard park or someone’s basement. And just the thought of my sisters navigating some sweaty basement full of cheap bodyspray and Xbox controllers makes me want to homeschool them until they’re thirty.
“Wow, the zoo? That’s very altruistic of you,” I say, not bothering to hide my sarcasm. “I’m sure the sea lions will appreciate your sacrifice.”
Let’s hope there are no virgin sacrifices involved. And I know for a fact Mia and Melissa would volunteer to be the virgins in questions. They’re just that stupid. Or at that stupid age. Come to think of it, the brain cells don’t exactly proliferate for either of them past this point in time either.
“It’s better than stabbing a relative in the heart,” Melissa mutters, just loud enough for me to hear.
“It was an accident,” I say back. Just because I went after her father with a butcher knife, you’d think I personally offended the girl. “All vital organs were missed, and technically, Holden did the stabbing.” I wince a little as I let that wily Kragger’s name slip out. Freaking Kragger, always putzing something up for me.
“Who’s Holden?” Mia asks with zero interest. Even in the future, Mia isn’t all that interested in my life. It’s nice to know some things never change.
But back to that whole Kragger mess. That’s right, Holden, the disembodied spirit, isn’t common knowledge at this point in the timeline.
“No one,” I say quickly. “Just... a character from a book I’m reading.” A very scary book that Candace Messenger seems to be co-authoring. Or worse yet, penningalone. And apparently, we’re all trapped in her first draft with no editor in sight. And judging by how my life’s going, she’s definitely a pantser, not a plotter.
Mom settles into the chair beside me with her eyes warm with maternal concern that I now know is genuine as can be. I’ll admit, after the big blue Count reveal at my birthday party, for a good long while, I thought her love for me was at least partially manufactured. And I thought for sure she was about to serve me up to the Counts for one of their midnight moon sacrifices. And if memoryserves correct, I’m on the trajectory to do just that. I really do need to get back to the kids, if not for their safety, mine.
“What about you, sweetie?” she asks with a smile. “Any big plans for today?”
Before I can answer, my phone buzzes with a text. Gage’s name flashes on the screen with a message that makes my heart do that familiar giddy little flip.
Rockaway Beach, you and me? I’ll pick you up in an hour.
I stare at the phone, torn for a minute about how to answer. Going to Rockaway with Gage means kisses, lots and lots of heated kisses that I can’t fulfill as someone who’s technically married to his cousin in another timeline. Can I?
But a part of me—a significant,selfishpart—can’t resist the chance to spend time with Gage in the pureness of our early love, before faction wars, one hot Oliver cousin, and celestial politics complicated everything.
What would Logan think? He’d probably tell me to go, to act natural and avoid creating unnecessary ripples—not that they won’t be ironed out by fate regardless. Besides, nothing happened at Rockaway Beach that changed our trajectory. It was just a perfect, innocent day with a boy I once loved more than my next breath.
“Earth to Skyla,” Drake calls, waving a hand in front of my face. “Your mom asked you a question, dumbo.”
“Sorry.” I blink back to the present—or rather, the past. “I think I’m going to Rockaway with Gage.”
“Ooh,” Mia and Melissa chorus in unison, making kissy faces and feeling themselves up in a vulgar manner. Most likely preparing themselves for later.
“On a Sunday?” Tad questions, his frown deepening. “What about your homework?”
“I think it’s actually done now,” I lie smoothly. What’s one more lie in a reality that feels like just that—a big, fat lie.
“Well, be home by dinner,” Mom says. “And wear a jacket. It’s supposed to stay foggy all day.”
“Have you met Paragon?” I tell her. “Of course, I’ll bring a jacket.” I nod, already calculating how many hours of pretending to be teenage Skyla I’ll have to endure. How many kisses I’ll have to navigate without betraying the fact that I’m not who Gage thinks I am. How many lies I’ll have to tell to preserve a timeline I’m not even sure we’re supposed to protect.
My phone buzzes again. And it’s another text from Gage.
