I clawed at the door handle, my heart slamming against my ribs.
Lee laughed, completely unaffected. “I was the same way when I first came here.” He pressed another lever, his foot moving against the floor. “This old Jeep will go faster than a horse—but just hang on for the ride.”
Faster than a horse?
I didn’t have time to question him.
The moment he pulled the lever again, the Jeep surged forward.
I pressed myself into the seat, gripping the handle for dear life.
By the gods—he was right.
This machine was faster than any stallion I had ever ridden.
We sped down a wooded street, trees blurring past in a green haze.
Then, the landscape changed.
The trees thinned. More buildings appeared. More roads. More movement.
I gaped at everything, my head swiveling, my breath catching in my throat.
This place—this world—was nothing like the one I knew.
And yet…
It was Olivia’s world.
Soon, we were surrounded by vehicles zipping past us, weaving through invisible lanes with precision and speed.
This was like a chariot race—only without the horses.
I probably looked foolish, my mouth slightly agape as I took in the chaos of the streets. But how could I not? The sheer number of these metal contraptions moving in perfect harmony was bewildering.
Lee barely seemed to notice.
He pulled the Jeep up in front of a tall, sand-colored building, pressed the button on his strange device again, and the engine died with a shuddering groan.
“There, there,” he murmured, patting the steering wheel. Then, almost offhandedly, he added, “I should’ve mentioned—this SUV was Olivia’s.”
I whipped my head toward him. “She navigated it without supervision?”
Lee smirked. “Is that what women do in this century? Travel about on their own?”
“I’m sure Olivia had to travel alone in your century,” Lee said, clearly entertained by my shock.
“Not if I could help it,” I said, my chest puffing with pride. “It was my role to care for her.”
Lee’s gaze twinkled with amusement, but he nodded. “And I’m sure you did your best. But Olivia isn’t used to being cared for by a man.” He hesitated. “Well, let me rephrase—Olivia is an independent woman. She’s spent her life making her own decisions, handling things her way.”
I frowned, my mind returning to the countless arguments Olivia and I had over our roles and responsibilities.
“At times,” I admitted begrudgingly, “yes. We struggled.”
Lee swept his arm toward the world before us. “And that, my friend, is the 21st century.”
I exhaled.
