Timepiece (Hourglass 2)

“Your window’s rolled down there, genius.” Her messy bun, combined with the tiny wire-rimmed glasses she wore, gave her a librarian vibe. A slightly sexy, seriously judgmental librarian vibe. “I assume you’re here to help unpack boxes.”

“No, genius, I’m here to help move the furniture.” I made an exaggerated show of flexing my pecs.

“Putting all that beef to use. Too bad your intelligence just atrophies away in that tiny little brain.”

“Aww, you think I’m intelligent?”

She just sighed and turned her back. I followed her up to the house.

Arranging the furniture didn’t take too long. Thomas came in halfway through and stole a kiss from Dru, rubbing her belly before he got to work. Dad watched them out of the corner of his eye.

He couldn’t stop watching them. His intense ache for my mother never eased. When I couldn’t take any more, I stepped outside on the back deck to cool off, to put some distance between myself and my father’s heartache. Leaning back against the outside wall, I closed my eyes and listened to the brisk breeze rustling the tree branches. I smelled burning leaves, the best part of living out in the country in the fall, in my opinion. Unless you counted bonfires. And hayrides.

Hayrides were the perfect place to make out with a girl and get away with grabby hands. Could always blame it on bumpy farm roads.

I was almost ready to go back to the house, when I heard two people arguing in the side yard. I couldn’t get back up the stairs to the porch without my heavy boots echoing on the wooden plank stairs, so I listened.

“You have to let me do it.” Urgency saturated Lily’s voice. “Why won’t you?”

“Your grandmother will freak,” Em answered. “She’ll freak, cause me bodily harm, and she’ll never make me another Cubano. She’s made it very clear that you aren’t allowed to look for people.”

“You are my best friend. That makes it different.” For the first time, I noticed Lily’s slight Spanish accent. It probably became more pronounced when she was angry or upset, like she was now.

I peered around the house to find that the ferocity of Lily’s emotions matched her expression.

“I said no.” Em’s denial almost outmatched Lily’s insistence. “You’re loyal, and your loyalties to Abi should outweigh any you have for me. She’s your family.”

Lily grabbed Em’s hands. “So are you. This time, what Abi doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’m not going to break her rule. Not exactly.”

“How are you going to get around it?” Em’s green eyes were full of pleading. “Finding a megalomaniac who can time travel isn’t like knowing a bank bag is back in a building. You can occasionally find things, but never people, right?”

“That’s the rule.” Lily let go of Em. “Abi’s never explained why I can’t use it—just that I can’t.”

“She wouldn’t have been so adamant about it for so many years if she didn’t have a good reason.”

“Ugh, this is so frustrating.” Lily dropped her hands. “What’s the point in being a human radar detector if I can’t detect?”

A human radar detector?

I thought back to the conversation I’d overheard between Em and Michael at the coffeehouse.

Disbelief exploded like a bomb in my chest. I took off down the back steps and across the short stretch of lawn.

I crashed through a pile of crunchy leaves, causing them both to jump.

I moved into Em’s personal space, so close she had to tilt her chin all the way up to meet my eyes. “Lily can find people. That’s why you wanted us to meet at Murphy’s Law. You thought Lily was our answer to finding Jack.”

“I am the answer,” Lily growled, and stepped between Em and me. “Maybe you need to learn to mind your own business.”

“But”—I looked at Em and then at Lily in confusion—“you said you couldn’t look for a person. Just things.”

o;Depends on what you mean by regularly.” I was. But alcohol definitely dulled the effects.

“Daily is preferable. I wondered if something was going on. I’ve noticed a … change between us.” It hurt him to say it. I wasn’t interested in making it easier for him.

“You were dead for six months. A lot of things changed.”

He flinched, as if I’d swung at him and barely missed. “Fair enough.”