“I worry about her being stuck there during the witch trials.” Daddy shook his head. “But if anyone can survive them, it’s Hope.”
I had to look away. They didn’t know I would accuse Hope—and I couldn’t tell them.
“Any more news of your other mother?” Mama asked.
The morning after I learned about Tacy, I had told them the shocking news. Mama could hardly believe it, though she had always wondered why we were twins. She’d never known of time-crossing twins before. Perhaps we now had an answer.
“No,” I said. “But I plan to start looking for her as soon as I return to New York.”
“Is that a good idea?” Daddy asked. “Aren’t you supposed to avoid other time-crossers? Your mama has been avoiding her own mother all these years.”
My grandmother Libby was a time-crosser and was living in New York at that very moment. She was only seventeen and didn’t know we existed. I had been warned my whole life not to look for her—and if I saw her, not to tell her who I was. It might jeopardize her journey. If I intervened and told her how her life would play out, she would make different decisions, and ultimately, I might not be born. It was a strange part of our gift, and it made me wonder who else might be crossing my path.
“I don’t know anything about Tacy’s future,” I told Daddy. “I only know about her past. I want to find her, if for no other reason than to tell her what happened to us.”
Daddy nodded, and Mama gave me a sad smile.
As the cab pulled to a stop in front of our house, there were already mourners lined up at the door for the reception.
It would be a long day—yet there was the promise of seeing Luc again.
My parents’ home was full as I walked from room to room, accepting more condolences and visiting with old friends and neighbors. Everyone wanted to know about Hope’s flights and her accomplishments, and I was happy to tell them. She was remembered fondly, though some people had a knowing smile as they recalled her strong will.
I tried to remember what people were saying so I could relay it to Hope. Most people didn’t have the benefit of hearing what others said about them at their funeral.
Today was America’s Independence Day, and there would be fireworks all throughout the city that evening. Picnics had already been ruined by the rain, but that wouldn’t stop people from going out for the evening festivities. I loved the Fourth of July in Washington, but this year would be much different.
The thought saddened me. For the first time, I wasn’t sure if I would be here with Mama and Daddy for next year’s fireworks display—or if I would be in Salem with Hope. America was still an English colony in 1692, and independence was not even discussed, let alone celebrated.
As I moved from the dining room into the front parlor, my eyes caught on the newest arrival.
Luc had entered the house and stood in the foyer, speaking respectfully to Daddy. I had seen Luc with leaders and diplomats from all over Europe and the United States. They usually looked up to him with admiration, but here the tables were turned. Luc knew my father had been a Pinkerton agent andguard for Abraham Lincoln, and that he had been the head of the Secret Service in later years. Though Luc wasn’t American, he had a deep appreciation for our country and history. He seemed in awe of Daddy.
I watched them for a few moments until Mama came up to me and said, “He’s a very handsome young man, isn’t he?”
My cheeks felt warm at being caught watching Luc, but I smiled.
“He’s also very daring and adventurous,” she continued in a quiet, knowing way. “And kind and thoughtful and intelligent.”
“All reasons Hope is in love with him.”
“Ah,” she said, quietly. “I didn’t know. Was he in love with her?”
Had the longing I witnessed at the cemetery been for Hope? If so, why hadn’t he told her? “I don’t know—but she’s devastated about losing him.”
“If they knew each other that long and you’re not sure if he was in love with her, then it probably wasn’t mutual.”
Luc glanced our way and caught us looking at him. My cheeks grew even warmer. He said something to Daddy and then came our way.
“Thank you for coming,” Mama said to him. “We are so grateful for your friendship to both Hope and Grace.”
When Luc met my gaze, there was a question there. Were we friends? He hadn’t liked me in the beginning—and I hadn’t liked him—but something had shifted along the way. Something I was just starting to see.
“Grace mentioned that you needed to speak to her,” Mama said. “The rain has stopped, so perhaps you should step out into the garden for privacy.”
I led the way through the dining room and into the hallway that ran past my parents’ office, and out the back door.
It was a small, walled-in garden with a plethora of plants, flowers, and trees. Mama’s roses were her pride and joy, and their colors looked vibrant against the backdrop of the lushgreenery. Drops of rainwater glistened on the delicate petals, begging to be touched.
