Every Last Minute (Time Wrecker Trilogy Book 1)

by Ellen Smith

  Mara opened her eyes and looked at Will. He looked surprised and—could it be? —a little disappointed too. “They can do that?” Mara asked. During all of Jason’s appeals, trials were always months in the future, and inevitably ended up being postponed.

  “Rarely, but yes. The judge agreed that since all the pieces were in place, it would be best to move along the process.” Traci cleared her throat. “You two will meet us at the courthouse at nine tomorrow morning. Nayana will send you an email with the details. Protocol would be a written letter, of course, but in this case . . .” Her voice trailed off. “We’ve encountered a great deal of anti-rectification sentiment before, but nothing on this scale. I’m sorry you all seem to be bearing the brunt of it.”

  “People only care about ethical dilemmas if they can attach a face to it,” Mara said.

  “That’s very insightful. I’d never thought of that,” Traci said.

  Mara had thought of that phrase many times. It was one of her father’s favorites.

  “Well, that’s good, anyway,” Will said, once Traci had hung up. He stepped away from the window and motioned for Mara to do the same. “We only have to deal with this until tomorrow morning.”

  Mara sank back down into the recliner. So he was looking forward to the trial. Too late to back out now. She tried to force a smile, but something stopped her.

  “How does Traci know that there hasn’t been another case that’s faced this much attention before?” Mara asked. “People aren’t supposed to be able to remember the original life maps. For all we know, everyone who’s been through this has had protestors parked outside their apartment building.”

  “That’s true,” Will said.

  Mara tried to piece together her thoughts through the ever-present fog in her brain. “Do you think they keep records somehow?”

  “Who’s they?”

  “Nayana and the other people at the Justice Department. They have to have a way of keeping track of who’s had a time wreck and who hasn’t, right?”

  Will shrugged. “It’s the government. They probably have records of everything.”

  “But how?” Mara asked. “How could they keep records even if everyone’s life map changes? It’s impossible.”

  “Would the government really do something they couldn’t regulate? I’m sure they have some super-fancy software or something to keep track of it.” Will didn’t seem too bothered. “Come on. Let’s think about something else.”

  On TV, Deirdre Collins was back onscreen. “Today, I’m wondering who I might have been in my first life map,” she said. “I’ve always loved animals, but I’ve never even had a pet—as far as I remember.” Deirdre gave the camera an exaggerated wink. “I’m off to work on a farm today to see if it might hold clues to my past life. Maybe it’ll feel familiar!”

  Will rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Let’s think about anything else,” he said, and clicked the TV off.

  In the suddenly silent apartment, the echoes of the protestors sounded louder and closer.

  To: William Sterling; Mara Sterling

  From: Nayana Patel

  CC: Aaron Hendrix; Traci Bryant

  Subject: Tomorrow

  Message:

  Hello Will and Mara,

  I hope this email finds you well. As I’m sure you’ve heard from Traci, your trial date has been moved up to tomorrow. An electronic copy of the letter is attached. Please call with any questions.

  ---BEGIN ATTACHED MESSAGE---

  Dear William B. Sterling,

  This letter is to notify you that a trial date is set for the Timeline Rectification Case regarding the incident at Adams Morgan University Student Union on October 18, 2002. The trial date is

  April 14, 2011

  9:00 a.m.

  District of Columbia Court of Appeals

  Historic Courthouse

  430 E. Street, NW

  Washington, DC, 20001

  If you have any questions regarding this case, please visit the Applicants for Timeline Rectification portal on the Department of Justice website. You may register for this portal even if you did not personally apply for this event modification. Please have the Case Number on this letter and your Social Security number ready for login.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  WILL

  Mara was asleep again. Will tucked a blanket over her and pushed the recliner back so she could stretch out. The recliner let out a long, slow whine, but Mara didn’t even stir. It was good he’d been able to get her pain meds refilled, after all.

  If the pharmacies they visited had been cold and unhelpful yesterday, today’s visit had been downright hostile. The pharmacist glared at him through the entire phone call with Dr. Ricci, and the other staff behind the counter were completely quiet. He paid for the prescription and left as quickly as possible. He couldn’t afford to let his anger get the best of him. Not now, when it felt like the whole world was watching.

  Will could have sworn he saw Chris outside the pharmacy as he hurried out, but it turned out to be just another tall, blond customer. Then he thought he saw Chris waiting to cross at a street corner as he drove past, but that hadn’t been him, either. He would have scanned the gathering crowd outside his apartment building, but there were flashbulbs going off and people yelling questions after him.

  “Have you agreed to the time wreck, or could you still change your mind?”

  “Who’s really behind the time wreck—you or your wife?”

  “Have you heard from your brother yet? Do you know Chris is coming up from North Carolina to see you?”

  Will had practically run past them, not stopping until he was safely inside the building. The words time wrecker rang in his ears until he reached the apartment door.

  Remembering Mara’s face when she’d read the latest news—darn that busybody Mrs. Hiddleston—made Will even angrier. Of all the rumors to start, why did it have to be about pregnancy? Reflexively, he smoothed the hair on Mara’s forehead, wishing he could erase the creased frown line while he was at it. Maybe in the next life map, pregnancy wouldn’t be just a rumor.

  Will peeked out the blinds again. It was dark now, and most of the protestors had gone home. He still saw a few people camped out on the sidewalk outside the building.

  No one’s altering time tonight. Go home. He let the blinds snap back in place, not caring if the tiny movement attracted attention or not.

  There was a knock at the apartment door.

  Will stood frozen by the window. Chris. It had to be Chris. He’d had enough money to make the drive since yesterday, and it was only a ten-hour trip. Even factoring in stops for food and bathroom breaks, it was surprising Chris hadn’t turned up on their doorstep yet.

  And now here he was.

  Will had been so busy dreading his brother’s inevitable arrival that he hadn’t thought through what he would say.

  He can’t do anything to you. Chris is your younger brother, for crying out loud. What’s he going to do? He just wants to talk. You don’t have to agree.

  Will still couldn’t force himself to move.

  Another knock. More insistent, this time. Mara shifted in the recliner and opened one eye. “What is it? What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Will said, finding his voice. Her eyes shut again, and Will strode over to the door. He would just tell Chris to leave. They had a chain lock on the door. Will could open it just enough to tell him to go away, that now wasn’t the time—it was night time, for heaven’s sake.

  No, he couldn’t. He’d broken the chain lock by accident last weekend. The maintenance in this building really is terrible.

  Will bent down just enough to look through the peephole.

  Tristan.

  Will unlocked the knob and threw open the door. “Okay if I come in?” Tristan asked, but Will had already dragged him inside and shut the door behind him.

  “I hope I’m not bothering you too lat
e,” Tristan said, eyeing Mara asleep in the recliner. “Do you want me to come back tomorrow?”

  “Honestly, I’m just glad you aren’t Chris,” Will said. “Did you have any trouble getting into the building?”

  “Nobody seemed too interested in me,” Tristan said. “One of your neighbors actually let me in. Got some awesome security in this place. I didn’t even say who I was or who I was visiting.”

  “Great.” Will rolled his eyes. “There’s a mob outside the building today and our neighbors are still holding the door open for anyone who wanders in.”

  “Good thing you have a lock. Or two.” Tristan nodded at the door, then turned and scanned the room. “So, can we talk?”

  “Sure,” Will said.

  Wait. What did Tristan want to talk about?

  “Will? Who is that?” Mara asked. Both eyes were fully open now and she was lifting the recliner back into a sitting position. “What time is it? What’s going on?” The recliner let out another creak.

  “It’s a little after nine. Tristan’s here,” Will said. He turned back to Tristan and echoed Mara’s question. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?” Tristan asked. “Your names are all over the news, you have reporters staked out around your building, and you’re asking me what’s going on?”

  “I mean,” Will said, “why’d you come by?”

  He hadn’t meant to sound accusatory, but maybe he was. Even when Will had played piano for Tristan’s church for the extra money, Tristan had never pressured him about religion. But now, he and Mara were all over the news as the biggest time-wrecking sinners in the country, so maybe Tristan was finally going to dip in his oar. Everyone else was.

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Tristan said. “I’ve been calling all afternoon and neither of you were picking up.” He looked uncertainly from Will to Mara and back again. “I guess I shouldn’t have come?”

  The question hung in the air longer than it should have. Mara frowned and sleepily rubbed her eyes with one hand. Will wondered if she even realized what was going on, or if she was still hanging on to the last layers of sleep.

  Tristan was watching him. He didn’t look confrontational, just sad. And a little hurt.

  “I’m sorry,” Will said. “Sorry. Chris is on his way up to DC and he’s got it in his mind to confront us and help us turn away from sin, so I’m a little . . .”

  “Oh,” Tristan said, understanding dawning on his face. “You thought I was here to talk you out of the time wreck.”

  “Oh, God,” Mara said, suddenly covering her face with one hand. She groaned and unsteadily got to her feet. “Are there still people outside?”

  “Just a few,” Tristan said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Will said. “Sit back down. Try to rest.”

  Slowly, Mara made her way back across the room. She walked like a little old woman when she was just waking up. It’d be nice if she didn’t have to do that.

  “Feels like morning,” Mara remarked, sliding in next to him on the couch. Tristan sat on his other side, still looking uncertain. He sat as stiff as a paper doll, barely touching the seat at all.

  “I can go,” Tristan offered again.

  “No, stay,” Will said. “Thanks for checking in on us. I’m sorry I was rude.”

  Tristan shook his head. “I don’t even know how you guys are handling all this. I can hardly stand watching it on the news. You don’t deserve this. Have you heard from your family at all?”

  Will guessed that was directed at him. Everyone knew Mara’s family wouldn’t be showing up any time soon. “Not yet. Chris is probably on his way.”

  “I read the FundItUp page,” Tristan said. “I’m sorry they’re being like that.”

  Will shrugged. As angry as he was at his brother, he felt a little defensive too. “They aren’t trying to hurt us. Mom and Chris honestly think we’re going to hell. They’re trying to keep us from that.”

  “Funny way of showing they care,” Mara snorted. “This is why I’m glad I don’t believe in heaven or hell or any of that.” She glanced over at Tristan. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t,” said Tristan. “I’m here as your friend, not as a pastor.”

  “Here’s what I don’t get,” Mara said. “So, the protestors and everyone are trying to convince us to stay in this life map by . . . making us miserable? They’re just making me even more glad I have the chance to get out. Why don’t they try convincing us that this life map isn’t so bad and see if that makes us stay? I mean, I don’t need people to give me chocolates or throw me a parade or anything—”

  “I do,” Will interrupted.

  “But a little sucking up would go over a lot better than all this protests-and-hellfire crap.”

  “They aren’t really targeting you, if that helps,” Tristan said. “I bet you anything most of the people kicking up a fit have a problem with time wrecks in general, and you all just happen to be the most famous case right now.”

  Mara sighed. “It must be nice to be that committed to something,” she said. “Most people don’t even vote because they can’t pick a side before an election.”

  “You’re committed to me,” Will said. “And I’m committed to you.” Mara smiled and squeezed his hand.

  How had she answered Dr. Hendrix’s question? The sudden thought took Will’s breath away. Why did Mara decide to go forward with a time wreck? Was she sure that they would meet again in the new life map? Or was she willing to risk a life without him?

  If Tristan wasn’t here, Will would have asked. He would have asked, and then he would have pulled Mara up on his lap and they could have proved how committed to each other they were.

  But Tristan was here, sitting right on their couch, and apparently oblivious to what Will was thinking. Tristan was looking off into the distance somewhere, lost in his own thoughts. “Everyone wishes they could be that certain about something,” Tristan said.

  Something in his voice made Will look up. He got the sense Tristan wasn’t talking about them anymore. With a sigh, Will pushed his own questions to the side and focused on Tristan. “What’s up?”

  “I didn’t want to bring this up since you all are going through so much.”

  “Well, now you pretty much have to,” Mara said.

  “The kid who had the gun at your school a week ago Monday? Did you know him?”

  “No,” Will admitted. “He wasn’t in band.”

  “He was in the youth group at my church,” Tristan said. “I saw him every week for two years. We had counseling sessions, even. And I still had no idea how much was going on with him.”

  “Oh, Tristan,” Mara said. “Wow. I’m sorry.”

  “You couldn’t have known,” Will said.

  “Yes, I could have,” Tristan said. “It was my job to know. I tried to know. Ever since it happened, I keep thinking about any signs I might have missed, any conversations I could have misinterpreted.”

  “But you can never really know everything that’s going on in someone else’s head,” Will said. He laid a hand on his wife’s knee. If only we could.

  Mara put her hand on top of his. “Don’t we know it,” she said softly.

  * * * * *

  So much of their lives revolved around sleep, Will realized. Mara was always tired, especially after she took her medicine. For Will, tiredness was a catch-22. Closing his eyes felt like tempting fate—would he wake up with a nightmare or sleep through the night this time? On the nights he did have nightmares, falling back asleep was impossible.

  After Tristan left to catch the last Metro train back home, neither Will nor Mara moved toward the bedroom. Mara stood in the middle of the family room, turning slowly on one heel as if she were trying to memorize every inch. “It all happened so fast,” she said. “We read the first letter about meeting with Nayana just a month ago. Not even that.”

  “Well, if we checked our mail more often, we would have r
ead it sooner.”

  The joke seemed to fly over Mara’s head. “I don’t know if I ever would have been ready to say goodbye to this,” she said. “But I feel like we haven’t had time to prepare. The trial is tomorrow.”

  “What happens with that?” Will had a sudden thought. “Were we supposed to get a lawyer to represent us or something?”

  “Who would we call? My mom? Someone who doesn’t want to cross my mom?” Mara said. “I think we’re better off going it alone.”

  “Yeah.” We won’t really be going it alone, though. We’ll go into the courtroom together.

  “I guess we should pack,” Mara said, hesitating over each word.

  “Do we really have to? If they approve the time wreck tomorrow, won’t they let us come back and get our stuff then?”

  “I doubt it,” said Mara. “Did you see how much Tristan had to go through just to leave the building? It’s going to be a lot worse for us leaving tomorrow morning in broad daylight. The time wreck people aren’t going to want us to keep doing that.”

  “The reporters and protestors aren’t hurting anybody. They’re being vultures, sure, but it’s not like they’re attacking people.”

  “The surest way to stop a time wreck would be to get rid of the participants,” Mara said. “The court moved up the trial date. They want us as safe as possible.”

  “And if they don’t approve the time wreck? What happens then?”

  “We might want to disappear for a few days, anyway. Just to let things settle down.”

  Disappearing for a few days with Mara sounded good to Will. “What do we really need?” he asked. “Besides our toothbrushes, I mean.”

  “I’ll get my meds, for sure,” Mara said. “Plus some clothes. How many days do you think we have?”

  It was a logical question, but it still stung. “I’m just going to grab enough underwear for a week,” he said. “If it takes longer than that before our time wreck, they’ll have to let us use a washing machine, right? Or else I guess we’ll all suffer the consequences.”