Hourglass (Hourglass 1)

“You don’t seem like the kind of girl who’d go for overprotective.” He took my hand in his.

“I hated it. But she wouldn’t leave without me. We were still arguing when we walked through the lobby. I wasn’t paying attention, and someone slammed into me. I dropped my backpack. Stuff went everywhere. My mom was frustrated, and I told her to go ahead. She did.”

Almost as if it was yesterday, I could feel the cold wind as the revolving door spun. I could see my mom stepping into it, her blonde hair blowing around her face, her expression somewhere between pity and disappointment.

“Best the authorities could figure was that they either hit a patch of ice or someone ran them off the road. The shuttle bus went over the side the mountain into a half-frozen lake.” My lips started to tremble. “Crashed through the ice. Took three days to recover all the bodies.”

Michael said nothing, just held my hand more tightly. I rested my cheek on his shoulder. But I didn’t stop talking.

“The last thing I said … The last thing I said to my mother … was that I didn’t need her. I told her I didn’t need her to hover, that I could take care of myself. I said I didn’t need her. I’ve never told anyone that. Not even Thomas.”

It had been too horrible to say out loud. Sharing it meant reliving it.

“But you loved them,” he said. “And they loved you.”

“I know.”

We sat, motionless—the only sound in the room our breathing and the ticking of the clock. I could feel his chest rising and falling.

“Oh no, Emerson.” Michael sat up straight. His skin went pale underneath his olive coloring. “I’m such an idiot … Liam … if anyone ever had the right to change something in the past, it’s you.”

“Stop.” I shook my head.

“We could try to find a way …”

“Is there?” My voice broke. “Is there a way?”

“I don’t … I don’t know.” I could tell by his eyes that he did know. He knew it was impossible.

I swallowed hard, biting the inside of my cheek, willing the tears not to fall. “If you changed that path it would change others, too. Paradoxes can’t happen, right? Besides, there were funerals.”

Bodies.

I tried to make my tone light and failed miserably. “Unless there’s some other theory up your sleeve?”

“No.” His thumb brushed a lone tear from my cheek. The care behind the gesture almost did me in. “I wish it could be different. I wish I could change things.”

“I told you because I wanted to, not because I want you to help me change anything.” I gave him a small smile. “Besides, I can take care of myself. Been doing it for years.”

“Emerson, you just shared your deepest secret with me. I value that. Don’t make light of it.”

If he wasn’t already holding my heart in the palm of his hand, I would have taken it out and given it to him right then.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath.

I wished things could be different, too.

Chapter 25

I awoke to the sun fighting its way through the slats of the horizontal wooden blinds covering the windows, close to claiming victory. The room held enough light to tell me we missed our early start back to Ivy Springs.

Too bad.

I’d spent the night in Michael’s bed. I wiggled my toes, grateful he’d at least removed my shoes before tucking me in—still fully clothed—before he returned downstairs to sleep on the couch. The boy had propriety on lock. I inhaled deeply, noting his pillow smelled as good as he did. I resisted the urge to bury my face in it.

As my eyes adjusted I took in my surroundings. Definitely not as posh as the loft, more college boy, but neat-and-tidy college boy. A blue-and-green watchman-plaid comforter coordinated with navy walls. His desk held a silver gooseneck lamp in addition to a sleek laptop like the one in his loft. An acoustic guitar displayed on a stand in the corner sat beside a well-stocked bookshelf. The whole combination felt very … Michael.

o;I need to think about this.” I pulled away and scooted to the far side of the couch, exhaling deeply and closing my eyes. My brain had stretched so far in the past couple of days I didn’t see how it could hold anything else.