Timepiece (Hourglass 2)

“We’ll find Jack. He won’t hurt her, or anyone else, again,” I promised. I meant it.

“Em told me what happened, how you tried to take her pain.”

My heart skipped a sudden, painful beat. “I thought she might.”

Michael stared at the floor, feeling as unsure about how to proceed with the conversation as I did, but determined to have it. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“It’s not something I talk about.”

“Do your parents know?”

“Mom does. Dad? He has an idea. I don’t do it for just anyone.” But Em had been so small in my arms. Tried so hard not to cry. I’d rocked her back and forth when she broke, wishing she’d let me take it all away.

o;Is that why you grabbed me at the masquerade? To feel my ‘emotions’?”

“No.” I grinned. “Not at all.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “How did you find out that’s what your ability is?”

“My mom is an actress.” I turned back to the stove to pour in beaten eggs. To give the pain a chance to leave my eyes before I faced her again. “She quit the business to stay home with me, but she still does the occasional gig.”

“No way! Your mom is Grace Walker,” Lily said. “You look exactly like her.”

That’s what everyone always said.

“Lucky for me.”

That’s what I always said back.

“I’m not following. What does your mom being an actress have to do with empathy?”

“Mom started work on a remake of Cleopatra, lots of emotional scenes. I was about three.” I wiggled the pan to make sure the eggs weren’t sticking. “A couple of days after she left home to go on location, I started having irrational reactions to things. Dad called her to talk about it. They tracked it. I was reacting to her scenes as she filmed them.”

“That’s not so strange, right? I mean, she’s your mom.”

“She was filming in Egypt.”

“Oh.” Lily chewed on her thumbnail. “How does empathy relate to time?”

“Everyone has an emotional time line.” I sprinkled a handful of cheese over the omelet, eyed it, and then added more. “I can travel yours, in the right situation.”

“Backward or forward?”

“I don’t mess with the future.” Anymore.

“How do you use it?”

“Something smells good.” Dad popped his head into the kitchen and I jumped. “Thanks for waiting, Lily.”

Saved.

“No worries.” She smiled at him before looking back at me, straight-faced. “Thanks for fighting off your inner bad boy for so long. Looks like breakfast is all yours.”

Dad extended his hand to show her out of the kitchen. Before he followed, he took in my chest and apron. “Son?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you should locate a shirt.”