“Where do you think you’re going?”
Or maybe I’m the one who has it all wrong because that voice—
My eyes flies up.
Devyn.
“H-How—” I don’t understand what’s happening. “Y-You—”
“—need to explain yourself.” Devyn cups my chin. “Where,” he says again, “do you think you’re going?”
“You don’t understand—”
“Our wedding—” He nods at the hallway behind me. “—isthatway.”
“I have to—”
Wait.
Did he sayourwedding?
Devyn’s gaze narrows. “Did you just come from Heywhay’s?”
I start to nod...when memories start trickling in. Of things that happened in the days past...but I seemed to have temporarily forgotten while I was in Heywhay’s. Me, fainting. Amos, crumpling to the floor. Me again, waking up at the hospital, and asking Devyn about—
“Abigail?” I croak out.
“She doesn’t remember anything that’s happened. She was never engaged to me.”
Oh yes. I mean no. I mean—I don’t know how I’m supposed to process that.
“Should I feel guilty about that?” Because honestly, I feel the opposite—
“Don’t be. I was never Abigail’s greatest wish.”
Oh.
Oh!
I remember all the things I read about her online, the things I read in her diary, and the things she told me herself, and—
“She’s now the much cherished daughter of the Baron of Greenwhich.”
Oh, thank goodness!
But as wonderful as that is—
“Amos?”
I have to force myself to say his name.
“Never existed in this world either, but...he’s behind bars in yours.”
Oh, Heywhay.
I still have no idea how that place works, but somehow...everything’s turned out perfectly.
“How much do you remember now?” Devyn asks softly.
