Time Will Tell

by M. Ullrich

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Praise for M. Ullrich

  By the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

  Time Will Tell

  What would you do if you could go back in time and change your past?

  For Eva Caldwell that question is a no-brainer. After her parents were murdered while she was away at summer camp, Eva was placed into the custody of her abusive uncle and bullied in school. She’d gladly go back and change it all. When her uncle passes, Eva discovers he created a time machine, the problem with the once-hypothetical question becomes clear: changing the course of her past would mean giving up Casey McClellan, her best friend and the girl her heart has belonged to since she was twelve years old.

  Will Casey choose to save her parents lives, or take a chance on the love of a lifetime?

  Praise for M. Ullrich

  “M. Ullrich’s books have a uniqueness that we don’t always see in this particular genre. Her stories go a bit outside the box and they do it in the best possible way. Fake It till You Make It is no exception.”—The Romantic Reader Blog

  Life in Death “is a well written book, the characters have depth and are complex, they become friends and you cannot help but hope that Marty and Suzanne can find a way back to each other. There aren’t many books that I know from one read that I will want to read time and time again, but this is one of them.”—Sapphic Reviews

  “M. Ullrich’s Fake It till You Make It just clarifies why she is one of my favorite authors. The storyline was tight, the characters brought emotion and made me feel like I was living the story with them, and best of all, I had fun reading every word.”—Les Rêveur

  Time Will Tell

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Time Will Tell

  © 2017 By M. Ullrich. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13:978-1-63555-089-4

  This Electronic Original is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: December 2017

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Jerry L. Wheeler

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design by Melody Pond

  By the Author

  Fortunate Sum

  Life in Death

  Fake It till You Make It

  Time Will Tell

  Acknowledgments

  Time Will Tell is the first story I ever wrote to completion some ten years ago. Until that time, I was never able to write beyond bits and pieces of fun scenes and witty character dialogue. To see this particular story make it this far (after many, many changes) is simply incredible. I’m surrounded by inspiration every day, but this particular story was inspired by some of my favorite music. I’m thankful to the artists who share so much of themselves in their choice of medium and who continue to influence those of us still trying to find our way.

  My gratitude for the team at Bold Strokes Books grows greater with each book they publish. Radclyffe and Sandy, my editor Jerry Wheeler, and all of those whom I touch base with throughout the process—y’all are just marvelous folks that make this company one heck of a special group to be a part of. So many of you have become my friends and family along the way, and I’m so lucky to have you all in my life.

  My beautiful wife, Heather: You continue to amaze me with your unwavering support, love, and creative swag ideas. You make me not only a better author but a better person as well. I know that no matter what path I would’ve chosen in life, I would’ve found my way to you.

  To my readers, the faithful followers and the newbies, thank you for making this journey an enjoyable one. As always: peace, love, and happy reading.

  Time travel is a nifty idea, one that’s easy to lose yourself in when you contemplate the what-ifs, but I’ve grown to appreciate my present day more and more. We all should. Take some time today to smell the roses and love one another.

  For Heather,

  My six years ago and my present day

  Prologue

  People speak of near-death experiences like they’re some sort of prestigious novelty we’re gifted right before the end, a flip-book of memories. Eva Caldwell’s was nothing more than short, broken flashes of every regret and missed opportunity she had since she was seventeen, and every moment of heartbreak during the years before. She lay there, fingertips of her right hand pressing into the cold, wet asphalt beneath her failing body, and she wept. Eva flexed her throat over and over, trying to swallow back the cries caused by the pain tearing through her abdomen. She held her hand over the wound at the center of her torso. Blood flowed between her fingers.

  Eva tried to focus on anything but the pain and the pictures she saw behind her heavy eyelids. The warmth of her tears matched the sticky puddle she lay in. Eva knew she didn’t have much time left as viscous blood pooled around her. Muffled cries called out, and a man shouted in the distance. Their voices were growing farther away as her whole body weakened.

  They were calling out for help, but Eva knew help wouldn’t arrive in time.

  Her eyelids remained closed though she saw light and felt an overwhelming sense of peace, a sense of freedom Eva had never known. She saw it then, the solitary reason for everything leading up to this moment: Casey McClellan’s smile.

  Casey had been the driving force behind Eva’s every decision and her only reason for survival. Casey was the reason why Eva had decided to travel back in time and change everything.

  Chapter One

  Six years ago

  Eva wondered why more people weren’t insulted by the cheap linoleum floors. She tilted her head to the side and scrutinized the faux marble more carefully. The grays and faint blues danced around the stained white surface. Maybe they weren’t meant to resemble marble at all. Maybe the design was a way to break up the white and keep the school from looking too much like an institution for the insane.

  “Eva?” The gentle voice of Mrs. Henderson, her junior year English teacher, broke her train of thought. “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Yeah,” Eva said dismissively as she sank lower into her hard chair. “I’ll try harder next time, I swear.”

  “It’s not the quality of your essay that concerns me. Quite the opposite, actually. You’re very t
alented, Eva. You’re one of the most talented students in my class.” Mrs. Henderson shifted slightly. Eva looked at her sheepishly and tried to ignore her concern. “The tone of your writing is what made me want to speak with you today. It’s a bit…” Mrs. Henderson said, looking around as if choosing her next word from the walls. “It’s dark for someone your age.”

  This wasn’t the first time she had been held after class by a teacher who was concerned about her attitude. Did they have meetings about her? “Shakespeare wasn’t exactly cheery.”

  “No, you’re right, but Shakespeare wasn’t my student. You are, Eva, and I’m worried about you. Is everything okay?”

  Eva looked back to her beat-up Converse sneaker and the scuffed floor. She didn’t know how to answer such a loaded question, so she fell back onto her usual answer. “I’ve been thinking about my parents a lot lately and it makes me a little sad.” She inserted a casual shrug to punctuate her point. “But I’m okay.” Mrs. Henderson looked at Eva with the same pity everyone gave her. That look made Eva cringe every time. Her teacher’s eyes were glassy.

  “May I go now?” Eva stood and collected her backpack. “My ride is waiting for me.”

  “Of course.” Mrs. Henderson stood as well, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “But, Eva,” she called out just as Eva reached the doorway. Eva turned slowly. “Come talk to me anytime you need. I’m always here.”

  “Thank you,” Eva said before hurrying into the hallway and toward the front doors of the school.

  She made her way about quickly but cautiously, careful not to catch the eyes of her fellow students, her enemies, the juniors and seniors who made it their mission to drag her down. Eva put on her favorite worn bowler hat and bent her head, trying her best to hide behind the brim and her long, thick hair. She made it within feet of the school’s front doors before she risked looking up. Her eyes were drawn to a poster announcing the nominees for Prom King and Queen. Eva paused, overwhelmed by a swell of pride at seeing Casey’s name on the list. But that pause caught the attention of Rob, a particularly rowdy senior who loved to pick on Eva. She rushed toward the exit, but someone pushed her from behind and she stumbled as she reached for the door handle. She fell forward and collided with the glass and metal barrier.

  “Sorry. You just always seem to be in someone’s way.” Laughter erupted from the hallway where Rob’s peers watched.

  She took a deep breath. Every day it was something: pushing, books being knocked from her grip, locker surprises that ranged from disgusting to embarrassing, and name calling. Eva left without saying a word in her own defense.

  Eva stepped out into the May sunshine and sighed, grateful another school day was over. She shifted her heavy backpack higher up onto her shoulder, flinching as her long dark hair got caught beneath the strap, and she looked out into the parking lot. The yellow car she had come to recognize as a chariot idled at the curb just in front of the modestly sized high school. Eva had spent three years being kicked around Marlboro High School, but ever since her best friend got her license, Eva’s ride home felt more like a rescue mission than a simple gesture.

  “Hey, slowpoke!” Casey McClellan stuck her head out the window of her driver’s side door. Eva’s smile grew a fraction as warm sunlight illuminated Casey’s blond hair. “Hurry up! I need help with my English homework.” Casey ducked back into her car.

  Eva jogged up the sidewalk and got into the car. The yellow Ford Focus was beat up, the headlights were cloudy, and the doors clunked in protest if they were swung open too quickly. The vehicle had been used and abused daily for over ten years by Casey’s eldest cousin, but she didn’t turn down the offer of a free hand-me-down when she’d turned seventeen that previous December.

  Eva found the floral scents of the interior to be therapeutic whether the upholstery was threadbare or not. She looked up at the sagging roof lining and said, “I still don’t understand how a car that’s eleven years old could look like it’s from the seventies.”

  “Teenage boys, that’s how.” Casey underlined her answer by rolling her big green eyes.

  Eva laughed at the dramatic display. “Good point. Tell me about your homework,” she said as Casey pulled away from the curb.

  “Mr. Hynes called it a review of sorts.” Casey’s grip on the steering wheel shifted as she turned along a curvy side street. “He wants us to write about our high school experience and where we plan to be in another four years. It should be no more than five pages, which I think is ridiculous.”

  “Of course you do,” Eva said with a laugh. “You’ve been the star student for the past four years and you’re going to become a doctor. How could you possibly fit all of your accomplishments and your ambitions into five measly pages?”

  Casey waited to come to a complete stop at a red light before smiling at Eva. “That’s why I need your help. You are the writer, after all.”

  “I don’t think I’m the person you should turn to for this.” Eva looked out the window. “Mrs. Henderson kept me after today to talk about my writing.”

  “About how amazing it is?”

  “No,” Eva said. “About how ‘dark’ it is.” She made air quotes with her fingers.

  “Edgar Allan Poe was dark.”

  “Edgar Allan Poe was before the teen suicide epidemic and Columbine.”

  “Don’t joke like that,” Casey said sternly.

  Her admonishment hit Eva in the chest. She was embarrassed by her own words, but that didn’t make them any less true. “I’m not joking,” she said quietly. “All people see when they look at me is the girl whose parents were murdered. They’re either pitying me or scared of me.”

  “Well, I don’t pity you, and I’m definitely not scared of you.” Casey reached across the divide between their seats and pushed at Eva’s knee. Eva relished the warmth of her touch. “I’m just desperate for your help and really like having you around.”

  Eva returned Casey’s smile and said, “I did see a very interesting new poster hanging in the hallway.” Casey’s eyes were on the road, but Eva could see the way her smile grew slightly, wrinkling her freckled nose. “Why do they even bother having a vote?”

  “What do you mean?” Casey said, pulling into the four-car driveway of her modest home. She put the car in park.

  “We all know you’re going to win Prom Queen. Why waste time and paper on voting?” Eva climbed out of the car and followed Casey across the lawn up to the front door of the McClellans’ spacious craftsman-style home, which had sheltered her more than the shack next door ever had.

  “They use recycled paper from the computer lab. I hardly consider that wasting resources.” Casey shouldered the large red door open. Savory scents of tomato and cheese welcomed them at the threshold. “Mom’s making lasagna tonight. Homemade sauce and everything.” Casey hung up her keys.

  Eva removed her hat before stepping inside. “Special occasion?”

  “Does she ever need one?” Casey raised her eyebrow. “Mom!” she shouted. “We’re home.”

  “Dinner will be ready at five thirty.” Patricia McClellan’s voice echoed from the laundry room at the back of the house. Eva was amazed by how infrequently Casey’s mom just relaxed. “Go do your homework and wash up before you come down to eat.”

  “Will do.” Casey grabbed two bottles of water from the kitchen and walked beside Eva to the stairs. “Do you have to run home for anything?”

  “I have everything I need right here.” She patted her overstuffed backpack and rushed past Casey to climb the stairs.

  Eva and Casey worked diligently on their schoolwork, and aside from a few minutes spared for talking about Casey’s upcoming prom, they finished up just as dinner hit the table. Eva dug into the meal enthusiastically and marveled at how a meal could change the tone of an entire day.

  “Everything was absolutely delicious, Mrs. McClellan,” Eva said as she wiped tomato sauce from the corner of her mouth.

  “You know, Eva, you have complimented
every meal I’ve set in front of you, unlike these two,” Patricia said, pointing her thumb in the direction of her husband and daughter. They looked like a pair of cornered deer. Once Patricia stood to clear the table, Jim McClellan jumped into action.

  “Oh, come on, honey. You know we appreciate everything you do for us.” He kissed her on the cheek and took the plates from her. “Which includes, but is not limited to, meal preparation.”

  “You know how much I love when you use contract-speak on me.” Patricia turned back to Casey and Eva. “Ever the businessman.”

  Eva watched the interaction with a warm smile. It used to depress Eva to see them like this, and at times she’d grow angry. She should be sitting at her own dinner table, watching her own parents share affection over something as simple as a weeknight dinner. Her parents would’ve been close to the same age, and Eva suspected they would’ve aged just as gracefully.

  Patricia was always a picture of class and sophistication, with perfectly styled copper waves and lightly lined green eyes as deep as Casey’s. She was petite and curvy, and a smile rarely left her face. Jim was responsible for Casey’s blond hair and blue eyes, but Patricia shared some of her many freckles. Jim still looked young, even as his laugh lines grew deeper with each passing year. Eva wondered if her father’s hair would be graying the same sporadic way that Jim’s was.

  Jim and Patricia cared for her, watched over her, and made sure she never lacked support or possessions. Every Christmas, she’d have a plethora of gifts under the tree, she’d receive new clothes for her birthday, and they even added her to their phone plan so she’d always have a way to get in touch with them at any given moment. Eva would never be able to repay them.