I tear my bleary eyes away from my laptop to see Mrs.Vidar-Tett standing over me. It’s the first day of Thanksgiving break and I’d come to the dining hall to look over Sumner’s notes from last night as I waited for William. There’s hardly anyone in here since most students have already left, clattering luggage wheels and laughter sounding from corridor. A few students pop in to grab a muffin or coffee before darting back out, eager to get home.
I’m so focused that, for a second, I think she knows everything. About William, about what’s happening with the time anomaly—but no. It’s not any of those things.
“You were barely present in our meeting on Monday,” she continues when I don’t respond, helping herself to the empty seat across from me. “You’re behind on your community service hours despite your dedication to alumni outreach for the gala, and you missed the A&P entrance exam again. Or did you forget it was yesterday afternoon?”
I shut my laptop. How do I tell her the truth? That I’d missed the test because it didn’t matter, not in the grand scheme of things. Not when parts of the school are starting to vanish.
Missing tiles in the bathroom. The sconces in the library. Thearmchair in the Forgotten Lounge. Things both small and random enough to avoid notice. It’s happening slowly, which—along with the missing teacher portraits—confirms the longer William is here, the more time erases. A steady fade, though it doesn’t make it less terrifying.
Every time it happens, terror flares within me. I make a habit of checking the portrait wall, keeping count of the increasingly empty frames. I can’t help but wonder if everyone else has woken up in a new thread of life, one untouched from this place and these memories.
I don’t want to lose everything.
My right eye twitches. “I forgot,” I lie. “I’m sorry.”
She studies me. “Have you submitted any of your college applications?” My silence is enough of an answer. “Delaney, I’m worried about you.”
“My grades are fine,” I say, because it’s partially true. I’ve turned in my assignments even if they aren’t up to caliber with my usual work. “And I’m aware of the deadlines.”
“You’re good at that, aren’t you?”
Now I’m confused. “Schoolwork?”
“No.” She tilts her head. “Doing well enough to remain invisible.”
I swallow. Drop my eyes to my laptop.
“Ivernia faculty goes through a student behavior training seminar each year. People think it’s the loud students you have to worry about, the ones who deliberately act out, but often it’s the quietones who don’t shout their struggles to the world. After losing your dad, I imagine it’s easier to stay on the smoothest path so you don’t cause any more instability.” She pauses. “Am I close?”
My eyes itch, my body aches, and the exhaustion threatens to pull me under. I don’t want to do this right now, so I say, “Do you think I can make up the A&P test?”
“Is that what you want?”
And then the truth springs from me. “No.”
She nods, as though she expected this. “Application deadlines are mid-December,” she reminds me. “Why don’t you use this break to figure things out for yourself? Maybe talk it over with your mom?”
“I’m staying here. For Thanksgiving break. And it’s fine,” I add, because I can tell she’s concerned. “I’m going home for winter break. It’s not that far away.”
A clamor of excited students burst through the doors and begin grabbing trays. She checks her watch, then presses her lips together.
“I’m also staying in Lake Placid over break,” she finally says. “Listen, I know you’re set on UPenn, but I also know you’re exceptionally gifted in physics. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
She rises from the table, crooking a brow as she waits.
“Oh—now?”
“Now,” she confirms. “Considering classes are done for the next few days.”
It’s not as though I can explain what else I have going on, so Irepack my bag and follow her into the academics building. She makes a right toward the science wing and holds the lab door open, ushering me inside. We’re not the only ones in here.
“Delaney, I’d like you to meet Salvon. My cousin.”
The similarities are apparent. Same rich olive skin, same rounded front teeth, but Salvon is a few inches taller with dark hair that dips below his earlobes. When he spots us, he rises from his place at the lab table and comes over, extending a hand my way. I shake it.
“Pleasure to meet you, Delaney.”
“You too.” I glance between them, confused. “Are you also a teacher?”
