Aubrey checks the time. “In about ten minutes.”
“Perfect.” Mallory holds up her phone. “So there’s this. I drafted a statement for the police, telling them everything except I left you two out of it.” She’s cushioning anyone who might get hurt, for the first time in her life following advicefrom her dad. “Let that register just in case the versions of you who are left behind retain any memory of all this.”
“But, Mallory...” Ilena’s face pales. “You could go to jail if—”
“If I actually did it? Maybe. And believe me, that’s not high on my bucket list. But what you said about lying without consequences—” Harley pops up from the ground and launches himself into her lap. The furball understands English, fluently. “Honestly, it’s mostly bullshit. I’m a really good liar. But just in case, the only consequences I actually care about are the ones that hurt the people I love.”
Which includes the father she will never get to know here.
“That has never been in doubt,” Ilena says.
Aubrey’s eyes begin to well.
“None of that.” Mallory swats the air in front of Aubrey. “I hired this Mallory a lawyer so expensive I’m positive she can bribe her way to an acquittal.”
At that, Aubrey takes a long swig of her drink.
“I’m kidding, of course,” Mallory says, hoping she isn’t, wondering if she could have paid extra for that. She looks past her friends and out on their uninterrupted view of the river. The path that runs alongside is transitioning from moms and the occasional dad behind a stroller to that irritating class of exercise fanatic who runs back and forth to the office. A dog on a leash barks, and Harley rams his foot into Mallory’s crotch. “Oh shit. The dog.”
“Noreen.” Ilena unlocks her phone. “I’ll text her to come just in case. Tie the dog to the chair.”
“No,” Aubrey says, quietly. “I’ll take care of him. Because I think, because I might...” She inhales, inflating her chest, stretching her neck, growing taller. “I’ll take care of Harley because I’m staying.”
Lightning snaps through Mallory’s body.
“Staying?” Ilena’s brow crinkles. “What does that even mean? You won’t return with us?”
Tears overflow Aubrey’s eyes, and she wipes at them with the back of her hand. “That burns.” She blinks. “The lactic acid.”
Immediately, Mallory and Ilena reach for their purses.
“I have a tissue,” Mallory says.
“Water bottle, I’m sure I have one,” Ilena says. “Just blot some liquid on the tissue and—”
“You two...” Aubrey smiles. “At least we really are making this as close to our world as we can.” She rubs her palms together in her lap before clutching them between her thighs. “But that’s the problem. Our world doesn’t feel like mine anymore.”
“And this does?” Mallory says curtly. “Have you truly thought this through?”
Aubrey doesn’t respond. Conflict has never been in her nature. Mallory needs to appeal to Aubrey without anger or accusation. Aubrey is a coder with an understanding of math and logic. Reason is the way to convince her to come back with them.
Mallory forces an outer calm. “Remember what Ilena said? You might be here with no memory of where you came from. Or perhaps with every memory. I’m not sure what’s worse.” Mallory pauses to let that sink in. “But let’s say you can do this. Let’s say you can just decide to stay. And you do. Let’s even say your consciousness remains. So what then, you’ve simply replaced the version of you who was here? How is that okay?”
Ilena leans forward. “Maybe the universe has been showing us that we shouldn’t be the ones judging what’s okay and not okay.”
Twenty-one years of loyalty, huh, Ilena?
“Oh,” Mallory says, “is that whose side you’re on? The universe’s?”
“No, Mallory,” Ilena says, “there are no sides, not anymore.”
Yes, there is, there’s mine.
Which by extension is theirs. Mallory knows what’s best for all of them.
Aubrey rubs the back of her hand, then stops. “It’s just thatreplacedisn’t the right word, at least not in the way you’re suggesting. That’s too narrow a view of what we now know is possible. See, I’ve been thinking... maybe there are slips all the time—like I had this déjà vu the other day and thought—”
Mallory gives a dismissive wave. “Come on, Aubrey, that’s not relevant.”
