Ziya glanced up, then pressed closer to speak in Amie’s ear.
“Let me know if you get any new leads,” she murmured. Amie didn’t think they needed to bethatclose to keep Elena from overhearing, but she wasn’t complaining. “And give me a little more warning the next time you’re gonna do some detective work.” Ziya nudged Amie’s foot with hers, which was clad in a black four-inch chunky heel. “I knew I should’ve worn my ratty bar sneakers tonight.”
Amie swallowed, feeling her ears prickle with heat. “You got it.”
“Good.”
Amie’s pulse quickened as Ziya’s breath slid across her skin, its warmth having an almost intoxicating effect as it soaked into her body. Her head instinctively tipped away, leaving her neck open for—
—Ziya to step away. She cleared her throat, fingers dancing restlessly on her thighs. “Okay. Goodnight!”
Amie rubbed her neck as if all along she’d been trying to work out a painful muscle. “Yep, ’night.”
She watched as Ziya descended the stairs and walked down the sidewalk. Her car’s headlights flashed as she unlocked it, and Amie waited until she was safely inside before heading for the door of her building.
Turning around again, she walked halfway down the stairs, looking up to see Elena peering out through a stairwell window. The woman waved as Amie crossed her arms, then disappeared from view.
Rolling her eyes good-naturedly (she was in too good a mood to roll her eyes in any other way), Amie unlocked the door and returned inside.
2:09AM
Amie blinked sleepily at the time on her phone. She was lying in bed, the sheets kicked to one side from the frustration of not being able to fall asleep.
The logical part of her brain had been pleading with the rest of her body for hours, desperately trying to convince herself that she wasn’t going to wake up in a time loop again. She knew she should have just gone to sleep on the couch, since that had worked so well the night before. But Amie knew that if she started depending on the couch to get any rest, she was never going to sleep in her bed again. Plus, her massage bills would be through the roof.
(Besides, she had a strong suspicion that Ziya’s presence in the other room had also contributed greatly to Amie being able to easily fall asleep the night before.)
She’d drank two cups of tea, taken a melatonin tablet, listened to rain sounds, gotten up to pee three times, finally turned off the rain sounds because they kept making her need to pee, and still, come twoAM, she was awake. Sleepy, but unable to sleep.
In fact, as twoAMrolled around, her anxiety kicked things up a notch. During the time loop, Amie had never been able to stay awake past 2:22AM. Several times she’d tried to last the night, hoping that was her means of escape. Eventually, she was able to gather that no matter how awake she was, and no matter how hard she stared at the clock, she could never make it past 2:22AM. Her last memory would be seeing the clock flip from 2:21 to 2:22, and then it would be morning.
Amie had even tried changing her phone’s clock to Pacific time, as if time could be fooled by a quick settings change. (She’d be embarrassed to admit that she really thought she’d cracked it with that idea.) But as soon as the clock hit 11:22, Amie found herself once again opening her eyes on September 17, her phone reset to Eastern time and her mood reset to crestfallen.
And now here she was, actuallytryingto fall asleep but instead being kept awake by every cell in her body urgently insisting that something waswrongand she was indangerand she had topee again.
Groaning, Amie rolled out of bed and went to use the bathroom for the fourth time that night. Returning to bed, she checked the time. 2:12.
What if I do get sent back?she thought. It was the kind of thought she’d been trying to keep at bay for the past few hours, hoping that if she didn’t give it any attention it would go away. But as 2:22AMneared, the unwelcome thoughts began to squeeze through her mental dam—first a trickle, then a stream, then a full-fledged torrent ofwhat ifs.
What if I’m not working fast enough to solve Savannah’s murder?she thought.What if I’m supposed to be doing more, and if I can’t figure it out, I’ll get sent back to the 17thuntil I do?
What if that’s for the best?
The sheer force of the thought sent her into an upright position.I could catch the killer. Maybe even prevent the murder. And then I’d be free again.
The thought of returning to the time loop, even with a possible end in sight, made her feel nauseous. But if she was able to prevent someone from dying, shouldn’t she? Shouldn’t she want to go back and fix it? Actually make use of her time in the loop, instead of just waiting for it to end?
2:15.
As the minutes passed, Amie became more and more convinced that this was what needed to happen. She was giving the universe permission for this to happen. At 2:22, she would wake up again the morning of the 17th. She would find some kind of weapon, hide in the back of the bookshop at closing time, and try to stop the murderer. And she’d keep trying until she was successful. Now that she knew what she needed to do, she could finally make the best use of her time.
With this newfound confidence, a wave of calm passed over Amie’s body, followed by a rush of excitement.
2:20.
She would tell David about the time loop, tell him Genevieve said hi, tell him she needed his help stopping a murderer. She’d text Ziya to postpone their date—or, hell, maybe she’d tell Ziya about the time loop. Prove it to her so she’d actually believe Amieonce it all ended. Amie had been so scared to do so during the time loop, to say anything that might risk Ziya giving her that sad look again, even if it was only temporary. But now she knew Ziya wouldn’t leave. She might laugh, tease a bit, not really believe, but she wasn’t going away.
And in the time loop, Amie could prove it to her. Then Ziya could help her stop the murder. She could understand what Amie had been through. She’d know how long it hadreallybeen for Amie since their breakup, and how even after all that time Amie still—
