Finally, I rip off the metaphorical Band-Aid and say, “We’re stuck in a time loop where I keep dying over and over, and we don’t know how to get out.”
The office gets quiet. Ezekiel’s face is blank, like maybe I didn’t say anything after all. Jasper’s knuckles brush mine and I go to swat him away because we’re not holding hands in front of my stepfather, but instead he takes my glass and goes to the bar cart, where he refills both our drinks before returning to his spot next to me. We both sip a little more slowly this time. Mostly.
Ezekiel sets his drink down and rubs his eyes before saying, “It’s possible you’ve been working too hard.”
“No. No.” I lean forward. “I’m not making this up.”
“Morgan.” His brow is creased with worry, which only sparks my anxiety because if he doesn’t believe me, I don’t know what I’ll do.
“We need help.” My voice rasps with desperation.
“What am I supposed to do? A time loop?” He sounds genuinely confused, and my heart feels like it cracks in two. He’ssupposed to help us. I wasn’t expecting him to hop to it, but we’ve worked side by side for years. We trust each other, and I thought he’d trust me on this. Jasper’s hand settles on the small of my back. I don’t push him away this time. If I can’t count on Ezekiel as an ally, Jasper’s my last option.
“I know it sounds impossible,” I say.
Ezekiel loosens his tie. “We’ve been busy, and there’s still a lot to do, but you can’t travel through time. You can’t...” His voice fades as he stares out the window and frowns.
“I don’t know why it’s happening. It just is, and we’re stuck, and...” My throat tightens, and I’m unprepared for the tears that form in the corners of my eyes. “And I don’t want to die anymore.”
Wow. There’s the essential truth of it, isn’t there? Never mind my brave words about holding all the cards. Dying three times is enough. Jasper pulls me a little closer, and I let him, but I keep my gaze locked on Ezekiel. He drags a finger around the rim of his glass, face pinched in thought.
“How long has this been going on?” he asks.
“About two months.” My voice is soft.
His is not. “Two months!” The words echo off the walls, making me flinch.
“It’s complicated,” Jasper says, and relief washes over me that he jumps in. “They aren’t like real days. Sometimes it’s only an hour or two. But we’ve repeated it more than sixty times now.”
Ezekiel watches me silently for a minute longer before he drags his gaze to Jasper. “And who are you again?”
If he goes with the “Jasper Jackson, at your service” thing one more time, I’ll punch him, but instead Jasper sits up straight and says, “Morgan and I are on a blind date. It’s our first date. Sir.” He takes the last part on with a respectful dip of his chin that has my whole face going fiery. This isn’t one of those sexyperiod dramas you see on streaming services now. He’s not here to ask permission to court me and whisk me away to his country estate. He’s a med school dropout turned henchman, and we’re stuck together.
It gets worse when Ezekiel’s eyes widen and he leans back in his chair. “Oh. Oh, that’s, uh...” His lips quirk as he glances at me. “That’s great, Morgan. Great that you’re... uh... meeting new people.”
Oh my god. I bury my face in my hands, feeling about fifteen years old. Ezekiel and I are close, but ours has never been the kind of relationship where we talk about my love life. Or his, for that matter. Mother didn’t marry him until I was nearly done with high school, so Ezekiel and I bonded over college applications. And since it’s been only the two of us, things have been entirely about the research. He never asks how I’m doing or if I’m meeting friends after work. And I’ve been fine with that, because apparently if he did, suddenly dying on the spot doesn’t seem so bad after all.
“I know it’s a lot,” Jasper says as I wallow. “And we can’t explain it. But Morgan said that you were the smartest person he knows and that if anyone can help us, it’s you.”
Ezekiel laughs softly. “That’s very flattering, but my specialty is energy transfer, not time travel. I know about condensing mass and transferring energy forms from one state to another. I don’t know what would be causing you to skip through time.”
“But you have to know someone,” I say, finally rejoining the land of the unembarrassed. “You know everyone. Someone who studies this?” Ezekiel has worked for think tanks, sat on panels. He’s contributed to papers and generally hung around with some of the most educated people on the planet.
“Morgan,” he says carefully, scratching at the back of his neck. His gaze is full of compassion, but his voice is the one people use when they have to break bad news. “You and I bothknow there are things that science can’t explain. What you’re going through—” He holds up a hand when I protest. “Yes, I believe it’s happening. But I don’t even know where to start with something like this.”
Disappointment crashes into me like a grand piano falling off a building. We’re on our own.
“There’s something else,” I say, because if I’ve told him this much, we might as well tell him everything.
“Besides you being stuck in this day for the last two months?” Ezekiel asks with a raised eyebrow. He lifts his whisky from the table again.
“You can’t go back to the house tonight,” I say.
“Oh no?” he says before he takes a drink.
Fear tightens my throat, but I need him to be safe. At least I can jump-start time and protect him properly. “Indigo. He’s back.”
You have to know Ezekiel to see his reaction. He’s a master at the poker face. But his hand shakes slightly, and he holds the whisky in his mouth for a fraction of a second too long. When he swallows, his voice is a rasp as he says, “Indigo?”
