Somehow, it feels like we’ve reset.
Once we’re greeted with the gusty night chill, I expect we’ll merge along our separate paths. But then he stops. “I have something for you.”
Before I can say anything, he pulls something flat and thin out of his backpack and hands it to me. His eyes are trained on my hands as I tip a delicate bookmark with gilded golden edges from the envelope. In the center is a quote I recognize: “Education never ends, Watson. It is a series of lessons, with the greatest for last.” Below this, there’s a stunning sketch of two figures resembling Holmes and Watson.
It’s agift. A gesture so lovely and unexpected, my words escape me.
“You were reading the books all summer.” The words topple from his lips in rapid pace. “And when I saw this…”
I trace the glinting edges with my fingertips. He’d been paying attention. This realization causes my heartbeat to stumble. Deeper in my chest, a sense of sadness and happiness exist at once. Thosebooks were my dad’s escape, our shared joy, and Sumner knew that because I’d told him.
My eyes leap to his. He looks nervous. That’s new. I’ve seen flickers of combativeness and nefariousness and cracks of vulnerability as of late, but never hesitation.
“Thank you,” I say. It’s incredibly thoughtful. I’m surprised he remembered my birthday, let alone went through the effort to get me this.
His hands slide into his jacket pockets. “Maybe candles are overrated, but birthday wishes aren’t.”
Cold air expands in my lungs. I still haven’t told Sumner about my wish night revelation, but he must see something in my expression, because his brows lift.
“I need to tell you something.” I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but a flicker of hope grows behind his eyes. “You’re going to think I’ve lost it.”
“Carmichael, that ship has sailed.” A lopsided smile appears. “And I’m the captain.”
I plow forward. “I think I know why William is here.”
Sumner just stares at me. “You think you know why an aristocrat from nineteenth-century London has somehow mysteriously transcended time and space, not to mention all the laws of physics, to set foot in the northeastern boarding school that he founded?” He folds his arms. “Enlighten me.”
I take a breath. “I think—I wished for this. At wish night, I mean. It was right after we overheard Ellerby and I wanted a wayto save the school, and when I talked to William about it, he told me that same night he’d wished for more time for his studies. What if he’s here to help save Ivernia?” It tips from my tongue in a rushed whisper. “What if it’s the universe’s weird way of fixing this enormous problem?”
He smirks. “The earth revolves around the sun, not you, Carmichael.”
“Thank you, Copernicus.” I roll my eyes. “I am, in fact, being serious.”
“Right. Fine. And William,” Sumner says, disbelief in his tone, “is the physical manifestation of your wish?”
“Wasn’t it his idea to have us host the gala?”
His eyes flatten. “I think you would have come to that same conclusion.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I believeyoubelieve what you’re saying,” he says, “but no, it’s not a logical explanation that’ll fix this issue.”
Hot uncertainty prickles my skin. “What if it is?”
“All right, fine.” His glasses slip down his nose as he studies me. “Wish him back.”
I shift in place but say nothing.
Upon my wavering, he releases a heavy sigh. “You don’t want to.”
“I do,” I insist. “But he has to stay through the gala.”
“Because he’s your date.”
“Because we can’t do this without him,” I contend. “I mean, what are the chances he appearsthe exact nightwe hear about theclosure? And you were the one saying there has to be an anchoring point. A connection. Couldn’t this be it?”
Sumner takes a step backward. I’m not sure if I’m imagining it, but he looks…wounded? His hand rubs the back of his neck. “You want to give up building the isoborometer?”
