I quickly tuck the letter and picture in my pocket, close the drawer, and stand. Time to get out before Aunt Grace comes back.
I’ve only taken several steps when Aunt Grace appears in the doorway. Her face flushes. “Alora, what in the world are you doing in here?”
If I could rewind time, I would do it right now.
“I asked you a question, young lady,” she snaps. “What in the world are you doing in my room? Snooping around?” Her eyes flick to the bottom dresser drawer.
Excuses fly through my mind. I could tell her the truth, but I don’t want to fight anymore. Or I could tell her I heard a noise in here. She might buy that.
“I’m waiting.” Aunt Grace strides in the room.
I bite my bottom lip. “I need a family picture for a school assignment. I forgot about it and didn’t know how long you were going to be in the bathroom, so I thought you wouldn’t mind me grabbing one of those.” I nod in the direction of the pictures on top of the dresser.
Aunt Grace’s eyes narrow. She stops in front of me, her fingers drumming along her hips. “You should’ve waited until I got out.”
“I know and I’m so sorry,” I say, looking down.
“Have you been in here long?”
“No, ma’am. I just got in here a minute ago.”
“Uh, huh.” She stares hard at me. After an eternity, she walks over to the dresser. “I suppose you can use this one.” She picks up the picture of us taken in the garden. “Don’t lose it.”
“Thank you, Aunt Grace.” I take the picture from her and give her a hug. She feels stiff. I have to swallow back the lump in my throat. I can’t believe how much I’ve lied to her in the past few days.
I lock the door when I get back to my bedroom, then place the picture of Aunt Grace and me facedown on the desk. My fingers fumble against my pocket as I extract Dad’s letter. I scan it, but there aren’t any answers. It’s only a short note telling Aunt Grace how he hated being stationed in the desert and how much he missed her and the rest of the family. No matter, the picture is what I want. I study it, trying to see myself in Dad. We definitely have the same color hair. I can’t make out his eyes, but one time Aunt Grace mentioned they’re blue, like ours.
It’s weird how the few pictures Aunt Grace has of Dad are all like this one, taken when he was probably in his twenties instead of more recent ones. She said my parents never gave her any.
I concentrate on Dad’s face in the picture, trying to merge this image with the one from my dreams, when his face is older and more haggard. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t remember. I slam the picture on my desk. It’s not fair. I just want to remember my parents. I’m sick of feeling like a freak, living as a ghost of a person.
I pick up the picture again. This isn’t enough—I need more information. Aunt Grace has to have something else hidden from me. Why would she act so weird about me going in her bedroom? I think back to how she glanced at the bottom drawer.
I don’t know what it is, but I’m going to find out.
11
BRIDGER
MARCH 16, 2146
I follow Mom and Shan from the transport lot to the Academy’s main building. A large group of Purists are on the sidewalk in front shouting anti–Time Bender chants and holding picket signs. They disgust me. Using a death to promote their sick agenda.
We ignore them as they hurl insults at us and hurry inside. Mom lets out a relieved-sounding sigh. Ahead of us is our destination—the ballroom. Usually it’s used for Chancellor Tyson’s publicity banquets. Today it’s the scene for Vika’s memorial ceremony.
I’m hollow inside, like someone scraped out what was left of my soul. Dad’s memorial ceremony was hard enough to get through. At least I had Vika, Elijah, and Zed to help me. Now Vika’s gone because of me.
Mom and Shan stop outside the black double doors. She takes a moment to straighten her blue dress and smooth her hair. Muffled voices trickle through the doors. I even hear some jackass laughing. My hands fist at my sides. I wish I could leave, but I can’t. Vika would wild out if she knew I wanted to skip her memorial ceremony.
“Are you all right?” Mom asks. It’s weird, but she’s been slightly nicer since Vika died. A hell of a lot more than after Dad died. She even gave my DataLink back yesterday.
“I’m fine,” I mumble.
“You don’t look fine. You look like a zombie,” Shan says.
He’s probably right. I doubled up on Calmer before leaving the apartment.
“Leave him alone, Shan,” Mom says. Her brow creases as she looks at me. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes. Now can we go in? I want to get this over with.”
Mom and Shan immediately melt in the crowd when we get inside. I freeze by the door. It seems all eyes have zeroed in on me. I try to ignore them as I check out the ballroom. Everyone is dressed in varying shades of blue—Vika’s favorite color. Some people are crying; some are laughing. All around, large digigraphs of Vika are mounted on stands. I lower my gaze. I can’t look at them.
I need to find someplace where I can be alone. The whispers dig in my back as I walk through the crowd. I know what they’re saying. And they’re right.
I end up in an unoccupied corner of the ballroom and slump down in one of the chairs lining the wall. I run my fingers over my DataLink as I picture the files on Dad’s DataDisk. I’ve searched for hours trying to find more information about that ghost mentioned on those files. Anything to let me know what was so special about her. But I haven’t found anything. Personal records from her time are rare unless the person was famous or important. Apparently, Alora Walker was a nobody. So why would Dad try to save her? It doesn’t make sense.
“Man, where have you been?”
I look up and smile. Elijah and Zed are standing in front of me. This is the first time I’ve seen them since Friday. I didn’t realize how much I missed them until now.
“I just got here. Mom took forever to get ready.” I don’t add how she wasn’t sure if we should come. She decided at the last minute it would look bad for us to skip out since Vika’s mom is a high-ranking DTA official.
They sit on either side of me. Instantly, I feel better. Not much, but I’ll take it.
“How are you holding up?” Zed asks.
“I’m dealing.”
“Uh huh,” Elijah grunts. “You’re stoned on Calmer.”
“It’s better than the alternative,” I reply.
They can’t argue with that. After Dad died, it took me wilding out three times over nothing before Mom agreed to let the docs give me the Calmer prescription.
“I don’t know about you two, but I’m glad to get out of my parents’ place for a while.” Zed rolls his eyes and lets out a groan. “I’m actually ready for classes to start again.”
Chancellor Tyson canceled classes this week to give everyone a chance to mourn Vika. Students were sent home except for those whose parents are stationed at DTA facilities outside New Denver.
“Tell me about it, man,” Elijah says. “Mine act like they don’t want me out of their sight. They haven’t been this bad since that girl was kidnapped way back when we were kids.”
“Yeah, I’d forgotten about that,” Zed says. “Was she ever found?”
I shrug. “I don’t think so.”
It was a big deal when I was around seven years old. Someone broke into a Time Bender’s apartment, shot her, and kidnapped her young daughter. Nobody ever found out who did it or why. But I remember how Mom never wanted Shan or me out of her sight after that. Dad said she was being ridiculous and overly dramatic. It’s one of the few times she was actually protective of me.
“May I have your attention?”
Vika’s mother, Colonel Halla Fairbanks, is standing on the stage at the end of the ballroom holding a microphone. She’s dressed in a light blue two-piece dress and her ice-blonde hair is smoothed back from her face. She looks beautiful in a cold way. And not at all like she’s sad.
<
br /> “I want to thank you for coming to Vika’s ceremony today. She would have loved seeing all of you here.” She pauses to scan the room, smiling. “Attendants are now distributing Virtual Lenses. Please take a pair and I will present to you a showcase of my daughter’s life.”
“I can’t.” It’s hard enough being here, but I can’t sit through the virtual simulation of Vika’s history. It nearly undid me at Dad’s ceremony.
“We can go outside,” Zed says.
“Good idea. I need some air anyway. There are too many people in here.” Elijah grabs me just above the elbow and tugs. “Get your ass in gear, man.”
We slip out of the ballroom before Vika’s mom announces the start of the simulation, then exit the building. For the first time since I arrived on campus, I can breathe without feeling like a shuttle is sitting on my chest.
We set out across the grassy area behind the main building and take a seat on the nearest bench. I stare at the flowerbed across from us. It’s full of pink, yellow, and purple flowers. Whatever they are, Vika always liked them.
“So what’s been going on with you?” Zed asks. “You haven’t answered any of my comms.”
“Yeah, mine either,” Elijah says.
I quickly explain all the drama with Mom and how she took away my DataLink. I leave out the part where Shan let me borrow his. I wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk to anybody.
“Have I told you before how I really feel for you?” Elijah asks. “Because I do, man. Your mother is impossible.”
“Truth,” Zed says. He pats me on the back. “But at least you’ve got us. Now doesn’t that make you feel better?”
“A little,” I reply, looking from him to Elijah. Worry is written on their faces. The tight smiles, the concern in their eyes.
Sunlight glints off my DataLink, drawing my attention. I want to show them what I found. I can trust them. Still, I hold back. I don’t know why. Probably because what Dad asked me to do is illegal. Or it could be because I haven’t figured out who asked Dad to save the ghost in the first place. Or if he even went back to 2013. I could be wasting time fooling around with this.
This leads me to another question that’s been bothering me. If he did an illegal shift to 2013, was that when he died? General Anderson said Dad’s last mission was classified. What if that’s just a cover? The DTA might not even know the truth themselves. That would explain why the general questioned me himself in the exam room.
I have only one way to find out the truth.
I have to go back to 2013 to see for myself.
The rational part of me screams in protest. If I’m caught, my time-bending career will be over. I’d most certainly receive a nulling sentence.
I jump when Zed asks, “Are you okay, Bridger?”
“I think so,” I say, and before I change my mind, I spill the truth. If I’m going to do this, I’ll need help. I don’t tell them where the ghost chick was from or the exact year she lived in. If the DTA ever found out, whatever Dad was planning would be ruined.
Both are them are speechless.
Elijah manages to say, “Man, I don’t know. Do you think it’s a good idea to shift by yourself? And where are you going to get a Chronoband?”
“I could do a free shift.”
“Oh, hell no,” Zed says, shaking his head. “You know what could happen.”
He’s got me there, but that’s something I’ll have to risk. Before Chronobands were developed, Time Benders could only free shift. That meant utilizing the gene that allows us to manipulate time without the benefit of a device to deliver us to a specific time and date. Time Benders would arrive hours or even days before or after their intended target. Dad used to say with enough training we could learn to accurately free shift, but the Department of Temporal Affairs would never allow it. They prefer us dependent on their technology.
“What about your inquiry? Do you want to get permanently kicked out?” Elijah asks.
I want to argue, but everything they say is right. I have too much to lose if I’m caught. But how can I go forward with my life when Dad asked me to do this?
Voices drift across the green from the direction of the main building. The group from the memorial ceremony is moving outside. Colonel Fairbanks and the rest of Vika’s family are in the lead. If Vika had a father, he would have been at the head of the procession with her mom. But Vika never knew who he was. Colonel Fairbanks used a sperm donation from an anonymous Time Bender to conceive her. I let out a sigh, remembering how much that used to bother Vika. She once tried to research who her biological father was, but her mom found out and had the records permanently sealed. That pissed Vika off so much.
The group makes its way toward the center of the green, where walkways leading to the different buildings on campus intersect. Elijah and Zed stand up and I reluctantly follow them as they head over to the crowd. Most everyone has reddened, tearstained faces. Yeah, I’m glad I didn’t view Vika’s virtual history. Even with the extra Calmer, I’m sure I’d be a mess.
We end up at the back of the crowd and wait for Colonel Fairbanks to speak. Hushed whispers circulate like a low hum. I keep quiet. This is the most important part of the ceremony, when Vika’s family will deliver her ashes back to the earth. My heart is heavy. I’ll never see her in person again. Her body is gone, destroyed in a fire that left her as nothing more than a pile of dust. I take several deep breaths. I don’t know if I can make it through this.
Colonel Fairbanks begins her address, holding the silver urn with Vika’s remains. She thanks everyone for coming to help celebrate Vika’s life. Beside me, Elijah sniffs a few times. My own eyes begin to well up with more damn tears. I look down and wipe at them hard, then check out everyone else. I’m not alone in showing emotion, but I don’t like it. Not in front of everyone. I turn around for a moment to calm myself.
That’s when I see her.
Standing back at the main building is Vika. She blows a kiss and I take a step back. No furing way. That’s not her. It can’t be. I blink then look again.
Nobody’s there.
12
ALORA
APRIL 10, 2013
My body tenses as Sela turns into the parking lot at Java Jive, then I sigh as the tension melts away—Trevor’s truck isn’t here. I yell over the music, “Okay, Trevor’s not here. Let’s go.”
Sela turns the radio off. “Oh, no. You’re not gonna bail. Besides, we’re early. He said three thirty, right?”
Sela is practically glowing. You’d think she was the one meeting Trevor.
“Yeah.” Trevor reminded me right after history class today. As if I could forget. “I’m not so sure about this. What if it’s a prank?”
She rolls her eyes. “I swear, you’re beyond exasperating. He said he was gonna help you study. How could that be a prank?”
“I don’t know.” I need all the help I can get with the history test, but my mind isn’t here. I just want to leave. I plan to sneak into Aunt Grace’s room again while she’s cooking supper.
“Exactly, you don’t know. He might be using this as an excuse to hang out with you. Or maybe ask you out on a date.” Sela waggles her eyebrows.
“Jeez, no he won’t. I’m not his type.”
“Shows how much you pay attention. If you’re female, you’re his type.” She parks the car close to the building. “Are you ready to knock his boots off?”
“Really, Sela, this is a bad idea. Just take me home.”
“Nope. You’ve got to pass the test, remember? I’m tired of you being grounded already, and you said you’d try out for the cheer squad.”
I scowl. Funny how her saying that makes me want to fail the history test.
She laughs and opens her door. “Oh, lighten up. You’ll have fun, I promise. Now are you gonna get out or do I have to drag you out?”
I consider telling her I’d like to see her drag me out, but I did agree to meet Trevor. “Fine,” I huff. “But don’t expect me to have fun.”
“I don’t get you. Half the girls at school would kill to have Trevor notice them.”
“Yeah, the half he hasn’t already screwed behind Naomi’s back,” I mutter as I grab my history book and open the door. “Do I look okay?”
Sela glances at my skinny jeans and green shirt. “Girl, please. You could dress like a bum and still look good.”
“No, I wouldn’t, but thanks anyway.” Leave it to Sela to make me feel a tiny bit better. “Well, I guess I better go.”
“I’m sending you thoughts of rainbows and fairy dust and if that doesn’t work, I’ll even stoop to gummy bears and chocolate,” she says with a grimace.
“If that doesn’t work, nothing will.” I try to smile, but my face feels frozen.
“You’ll do great. I bet he wants to confess his undying love for you and promise to never leave your side again.” She folds both of her hands over her heart and sighs.
“Now you’re being ridiculous.”
“You wouldn’t have it any other way, would you?”
No, I wouldn’t. This is the Sela I miss, the one who cracks jokes and wants to spend time with me without two idiots tagging along. It’s selfish of me to think that, but I can’t help it. Things were so much better before Jess and Miranda entered the picture.
A bell tinkles as we walk into Java Jive. We’re enveloped with the scent of coffee and fresh pastries. I allow myself to relax a little. A few kids from school are already here. They barely acknowledge us as we place our order. I hope it stays that way. Why didn’t I tell Trevor to meet me at the library?
I grab my order and head to a rear corner booth. Hopefully nobody will notice Trevor when he comes back here.
Sela chats nonstop while I sip on my mocha frappé. I can barely taste it. The bell on the door sounds again and again. I twist around, and my stomach sinks like a stone in water. The place is filling up with kids from school. More are in the parking lot.
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