by Calia Read
Directly ahead of me, I see the streetlights lining the main street and pick up my pace. At this time of night, the streets are dead. It’s only me and the animals scrounging for food. I run down the main street in the direction of the library. If I thought it was cold when I first headed toward my former store, it’s nothing compared to the frigid temperature at this time of night...or morning. My lungs burn from the cold air, and my muscles ache in protest, but I finally reach the library.
I see a car’s headlights glowing and hope to God it’s my brother. Slowly, I approach the driver’s side. The window rolls down, and Ian’s face appears. I sigh. Thank God.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“I’m sorry I overslept,” I say as I rest my hands on my knees and gasp for breath. Holy shit, I’m out of shape.
“And went to a Renaissance fair, too?” he asks as he takes in my attire.
Standing, I glance at my ruined dress as I walk around the car. It’s impossible not to notice he’s driving a Panamera Porsche. Is this his or did he borrow it from someone else?
When I get into the passenger side, I have to stop myself from groaning in contentment. Heated seats. Bliss.
“Seriously. What’s up with the Renaissance garb?”
I can’t help but roll my eyes as I buckle up. “This is hardly what they wore in the 14th century.”
“And it’s hardly what normal people wear in the present day. Why are you wearing that?”
“Long story.” I relax against the headrest. “Can we please leave this place?”
Sighing, Ian puts the car in drive and does a U-turn. I close my eyes and sigh, happy to be leaving Will, Liz, and my former store behind. Greensburg, Pennsylvania, held all my past hopes and dreams. What doesn’t make sense to me is why time dropped me back in Greensburg to begin with. When I killed Edward, I changed the trajectory of my family’s lives. If their new last name and address aren’t enough proof of that, then I don’t know what is. So why didn’t I time travel back to my family?
Maybe you needed to see what you lost, my mind whispers. Maybe you needed to see what your actions caused.
The very idea causes my heart to thrum wildly in my chest. I don’t regret killing Edward even though there were repercussions for my family because lives were still saved. That has to count for something. And as long as my family is still alive, then I can adjust to anything, right?
Ian presses on the gas as we drive out of town, the navigation system telling him the distance to his upcoming turn.
Sitting forward, I hold my hands close to the vents to warm up and avoid having to look at my brother. The silence is strained, nothing like I’m used to with him. I shift awkwardly in my seat, then sit back before I tuck my legs beneath me, trying to get comfortable.
Ian looks over at me. “Gonna take a nap?”
I glance at him from the corner of my eye. “That’s what I’m hoping for. I didn’t get much sleep.”
“You can’t avoid talking to me forever, you know.”
“You don’t think I realize that?”
Ian drums his fingers on the steering wheel before he bluntly nods. “Sleep away then.”
I recline my seat and stare out the window for a few seconds. I watch the blur of the road zoom past us. My eyelids become heavy, slowly opening and closing before they shut altogether, and I fall into a deep, deep sleep.
The room is quiet and cloaked in darkness.
I only have the moon to keep me company. In the distance, I can hear the faint noise of laughter and people talking. I try to walk toward the voices but when I move, some invisible force blocks me, pushing me back.
Panic-stricken, I look around and realize I’m on a balcony with tables all around me. They’re all set up, but no one is seated. Approaching the railing, my heart thunders in my ears. People walk below me, and Model T cars drive on the road. I shout for help because something isn’t right. I’m trapped and need help.
I scream so loudly, I can hear the echo of my voice in my ears, making me wince, but no one from below looks up. It’s as if I don’t exist.
Slowly, I move away from the balcony and turn around. Then I see the outline of a body coming toward me. The closer it gets, I can make out the shoulders and long legs and realize it’s a man. But who?
“Why are you here?” I ask as if I know the man.
“I followed you,” he replies. “I always do.”
I take a step back and then another. My fear is so crippling, words are no longer an option. I try to run left, then right, but again, I’m pushed back by an unseen force.
I push against the invisible wall, but it doesn’t break, and when the man grows closer, so does my fear, making me cry out. I start banging on the wall with my fist.
“Let me go,” I plead to whatever is holding me back.
“No, I love you!” he shouts. His voice rings in my ears. I take another step back as he continues to approach. “I will always rule over you. Always.”
“No, no, no...” I groan.
He moves closer. For a second, I see his face, and I swear it’s Étienne, but then his features morph into someone else I’ve never seen before. Stepping through the wall as if it was never there to begin with, he steps closer and becomes shrouded in darkness altogether.
Before I can say another word, he’s upon me, and his hands curl around my shoulders. His fingers dig into my skin, making me wince. “Why did you do this?” he yells. “What have you done?”
He shakes me back and forth like a ragdoll, and then with one shove, he pushes me over the balcony edge.
I’m familiar with the fall. I’m intimate with the air rushing through my hair and how it sets goose bumps coursing across my body. I embrace the way my heartbeat furiously pounds in my chest. I even welcome the fear. I wait for the darkness to surround me, for the world to swallow me whole until all I see is a small surrounding of light in front me, but that never happens. My feet and arms flail around me. The man who pushed me shouts, “I loved you!” as though it’s my fault before he disappears from sight.
I look down and see the concrete street coming closer and people screaming. Suddenly, I exist to them.
Wake up, wake up, wake up, I plead with myself. This can’t be the end. I have so much to live for.
My fingers claw at the air one last time as I scream for help. But it’s too late. I’m moving at such a fast speed, and all of sudden, I crash onto the concrete. The weight of gravity crushes down upon me, shooting blinding pain throughout my entire body. I stare up at the second-floor balcony as blood begins to trickle somewhere out of my head. People surround me. A woman sees me and immediately turns away and cries.
I don’t pay them any mind. My eyes are transfixed above me because a figure appears, and this time, I recognize the shape. It’s Étienne. His eyes lock with mine. He looks mournful as he shakes his head, and mouths, “I did this for you.”
I reach for him, but the surroundings of light appear, and my world becomes black...
Gasping, I wake up. It takes me a second to get my bearings and realize I’m in the car with Ian and not lying on a random street in a pool of my own blood with Étienne staring down at me from a balcony.
Ian glances at me. “Bad dream?”
Gripping the armrests, I take a deep breath. “You could say that.”
“Well, while you were in la-la land, I was driving. I’m getting ready to find a gas station to fuel at. Do you need to go to the restroom or anything?”
I shake my head. My dream has me too spooked to think clearly.
He slows the car down when he finds a gas station. When he turns the car off and gets out, I look at the GPS to see we’ve already driven through Ohio and are halfway through Indiana. Illinois is our last stop.
While my brother leans against the car and waits for the gas to pump, I try to get my emotions under control.
Not only did I have an incredibly fucked-up dream where Étienne watched me die, but now I’m about to go
to a city I’ve never been to and meet my family who are hopefully the same people as before.
Ravenwood’s obviously no longer run by the family. What does everyone do for a living? Is my father still a professor? Does my mother work? How about Bradley? Is he still the ruthless businessman, bound and determined to get what he wants?
Clearly, I can’t ask Ian these questions. I look at him from the corner of my eye as he gets back into the car. He’s dressed in black sweatpants and a hoodie with a black cap pulled down low. He’s the same Ian, but he’s not. The mischievous glint in his eyes is gone only to be replaced with a somber expression that I don’t know what to do with.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
“No.”
Even if I was, I’d probably vomit the food back up minutes later because I’m so nervous about seeing my family. I don’t know what to expect. There have been significant changes. Just seeing Ian’s stoic demeanor is a like a bucket of cold water being throw over my head.
“You sure?”
I glance at the GPS and see we only have about forty minutes until we reach Champaign. “No. I’ll wait till we get home.”
I have to force the word home out of my mouth, and it tastes vile. In present time, I need to accept my family no longer lives in McLean, Virginia even though that’s all I’ve known for so long. I need to acknowledge my family lives in Champaign. What’s this city like? Is it big or maybe a quaint place? Does our family now live comfortably, or do they struggle to make ends meet? Did I royally fuck up their lives by pulling the trigger just to save Étienne’s life?
Judging from the Porsche, the struggling to make ends meet is probably not happening. “I love this car,” I say.
Ian shrugs as if it’s nothing. “You were there when Mom and Dad bought it for me after college. Not the color I wanted, but it gets me from point A to point B.”
My mouth hangs open. “Dude, it’s a Porsche. You sound like a pretentious asshole,” I blurt before I can think twice.
A derisive snort escapes his lips. “Oh, that’s funny coming from someone who threw a fit when her daddy wouldn’t get her the Birkin bag she wanted for Christmas last year.”
I stare at him as if he’s grown three heads. He rolls his eyes. “Don’t pretend you didn’t. You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth just like me.”
After that, I shut my mouth. Okay. Our family has money. Perhaps a lot of it. With Ravenwood, we were well off, but our parents still expected us to work for the things we wanted in life. They would never hand over a Porsche to Ian. And if I threw a fit over a Birkin bag, they would laugh in my face and tell me to get over myself.
The two of us sit in silence as he pulls back onto the interstate, which is beyond strange. Ian can’t stand silence. He has to fill it, whether it’s with something sarcastic or with a random fact. As long as there’s a conversation going, he’s happy. But my brother stares straight ahead, face stoic and hands gripping the steering wheel. I want to grab him by the shoulders, shake him, and say, “What happened to you? Bring back the Ian I know and love!”
“Are you going to explain to me why you were stranded in Greensburg, Pennsylvania?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“You realize everyone is going to bombard you when we get home, right?”
I toy with the dirty material of my dress. “Yes.”
“Just want to make sure you’re aware and prepared.”
Aware and prepared are two completely different things. I don’t know what I’m walking into. How ironic and twisted that I’m in the time I was born in, the time I should be in, yet I know with every fiber of my being I don’t belong here. I have to figure out a way back to Étienne. But I know I’ve changed the past, and with that, I’ve changed the future and my heart.
My life hangs in the balance, and I’m the only one who can see it.
With a deep pang in my chest, I glance one more time at my brother. I remember the old memories. The memories of us in Ravenwood. Of us in McLean, Virginia. I don’t know this new Ian. That’s my fault, and I take full responsibility for that.
Up ahead to my right, I see a large green and white sign that says, Welcome to Illinois. Beneath the large lettering is the phrase, The Land of Lincoln.
The traffic grows dense as we drive through a city called Danville. I watch the buildings, cars, and semis pass by with numb detachment. I have no connection to this state. I can’t remember a time when I’ve ever driven through it. To be honest, there’s not much of a difference from Indiana.
The subdivisions and buildings become sparse as the city of Danville winks at me in the side view mirror. In front of us is the landscape of frozen farmland with ice-covered stocks and stubble that was once thriving, colorful beans. Come spring, I’m sure new crops will be planted and make the scenery appear livelier, but right now, it looks dead. Almost as if we’ve stumbled upon a ghost town that had to be evacuated.
The sun is bright in the sky, making me wish I had a pair of sunglasses. I flip down the sun visor and try to imagine what my homecoming with the rest of my family will be like. I’m genuinely nervous because if Ian’s personality has changed so drastically, what will it be like with Mom, Dad, and Bradley? Will Mom still be her warm, caring self and Dad the history buff, who once nourished my love for antiques? How about Bradley? Is he still arrogant and money hungry?
The questions pile up at a rapid pace, but one remains at the forefront of my mind.
“If I’ve been gone for a month, why didn’t anyone call the cops?”
“Because it’s not against the law for an adult to leave of their own accord, Serene. And you gave every indication you did just that. After three weeks, Mom was beginning to get worried. You weren’t staying in contact like you promised, and your credit cards weren’t being used. She was close to calling the police when you called.”
As the minutes tick away, my anxiety mounts. I’m tempted to tell Ian to turn the car around and take me back to Greensburg so I can see familiar surroundings and pretend for just one second I didn’t cause this.
But you did. So suck it up, I tell myself. In the end, you saved Étienne and Belgrave.
Over and over, I repeat that reassurance like a benediction. It serves its purpose and distracts me, but in the next second, I see a blue sign that says Welcome to the City of Champaign. Home of the University of Illinois.
Traffic becomes heavier, making Ian slow down. He skips a multitude of exits leading toward shopping centers and restaurants.
“In point three three miles, please make a—”
Ian abruptly shuts off the navigation system. “Yeah, yeah, lady, I can take it from here,” he mumbles and weaves in and out of traffic like a pro. Like someone who’s lived here their entire life.
We finally take an exit that merges onto a four-lane road. It’s busy but not near as crazy as the traffic on the interstate. Ian makes a left on one street and a right on the other. There’s no way I could find my way back to the interstate even if I tried. I’m officially lost.
He makes a right turn into a gated community. Rolling down his window, he leans out and types in the code on the keypad. Moments later, the black gate creaks open. Slowly, he drives forward.
The homes on the main road are massive. Borderline mansions. There’s a trend among all the homes: manicured lawns, expensive vehicles parked in the driveway, and residents who never leave home dressed in less than their best. It gives me a bit of nostalgia for the town I grew up in. My parents’ friends were similar to the few people I see. They wave at Ian, and he waves back. But they look at me curiously, and I know that by tonight, everyone in this small, tightknit community will be whispering about my arrival. Apparently, they all know I’ve been gone.
The apprehension that’s been building on the entire ride here is ready to burst free from my chest. I feel like I’m going to vomit.
Ian slows to a crawl and pulls into the driveway. I lean forward to get a better view of the massive st
ructure. It’s almost as if the architect couldn’t decide what design they wanted to stick with, so they mixed Bel Air and North Shore. In California, it might blend in, but in the Midwest, it sticks out like a sore thumb. At least to me it does.
The exterior has a classic Beaux-Arts feel to it. The tan stucco is completed by smooth-faced rustication outlining the corners of the home. Corinthian columns support the small circular porch. Directly above it is a balcony. The gray gabled roof has six dormer windows facing the front of the house. Impeccable landscaping lines the mansion, and in the front of the circular brick driveway is a large fountain that borders on ostentatious.
“Wow,” I say.
“Yeah. It’s a bit much for my taste.”
I say nothing, hoping Ian continues. “The burning question everyone has for Mom and Dad is why build a 27,000 square foot home when none of your kids are living at home?” He looks at me. “I take that back. You’re now living with them.”
“I am?”
“Well, I’m assuming it’s only temporary until you get back on your feet. You lost your apartment when you disappeared on us and stopped paying for it.”
“I did?”
Ian parks the car and cocks his head to the side as he looks at me. “Are we living on the same planet? What’s with all the questions?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. I’ve just had a crazy few days that’s all.”
Ian snorts in reply. Before he gets out of the car, I stop him by placing my hand on his arm. “Hey, thanks for picking me up. I really appreciate it.”
He shrugs. “Don’t mention it. I needed a break from studying. Law school is kicking my ass.”
Law school? Ian is in law school?
If we were talking about Bradley, I might believe it, but Ian? No. He hated school and wasn’t exactly the most driven person. I want to ask him what compelled him to go to law school, but he’s out of the car before I can open my mouth. I follow his lead and open the door. My muscles ache in protest from being in the car for so long. That’s probably the only part of me that feels relief. The rest of me is panicking because I don’t know what I’m walking into. Hell, I’m literally walking into a new home and have to pretend I’ve been here before.