Timepiece (Hourglass 2)

“The past is the past.” A world of hurt revolved inside her, so twisted I wasn’t sure how to respond. I stood, reached her in three steps, and kneeled down beside her. She stilled but didn’t meet my eyes. “What happened wasn’t your fault. It was Jack and Cat’s. They used you, forced you.”

“That’s not true. How could I have done those things—pursued Michael that way, been jealous of Emerson to the point of hating her, tried to kill your dad—and succeeded—unless I wanted to?” There were tears in her eyes, and her skin was blotchy. “I had to want to, right?”

“I don’t think we understand everything about Jack. We didn’t even know about his ability to steal people’s memories. Think about it. No one ever asked why he was here. Or maybe we did, and he took the memory away from us.”

Ava picked up the now empty coffee cup and placed the remaining paper towels on the sideboard. “Taking too many memories without replacing them leaves a void.”

A void like the one inside her. It was terrifying, the nasty, black, hate-filled pockets of self-loathing, the empty spaces where fear and doubt took up residence. Nothing changed her emotional landscape. Joy never managed to creep into the mix, overtake the darkness, offer hope.

If my mom ever woke up, I wondered if she’d feel the same way.

“Well, then, let’s make sure it doesn’t happen again.” I took the coffee cup out of her hand and nodded toward her room. “Just start packing.”

I’d carried the last bag to Ava’s new room in my house when my cell rang.

“It’s Em,” she said when I picked up. She hadn’t waited for a hello, and she didn’t take a breath before continuing. “After the meeting today, Michael and I had an argument—I mean, a discussion—and now we need you to come downtown.”

“I don’t do couples counseling.”

She made a raspberry sound into the phone. “Just come meet us. Have you ever heard of Murphy’s Law Coffee?”

Chapter 7

I stepped into the coffee shop, and a bell rang over my head.

I’d walked past Murphy’s Law a million times, but I’d never been inside. I wasn’t one for sitting, and sipping a hot beverage while chatting someone up wasn’t on my list of favorite things to do. Even so, I inhaled deeply, appreciating the mingling smells of baked goods and freshly ground coffee.

Stunning framed nature photographs hung on every patch of the sunny yellow walls. Shelves were packed tight with new and used books, and a children’s section boasted low tables full of puzzles and toys.

I found Em and Michael in the front corner of the room at a table surrounded by a grouping of overstuffed orange chairs. They reminded me of the giant toadstools from Alice in Wonderland.

“What’s so mysterious you couldn’t share it over the phone?” I asked Emerson when I reached them. I dropped into one of the chairs and tried to relax against the fat cushions.

Landers did terrible things to her that no one deserved. Things she couldn’t remember, but could still feel.

Until that day, I’d had no idea. We weren’t exactly friends now, but we weren’t enemies, either. I didn’t call her The Shining anymore, but things were at least twelve shades of awkward between us.

I pulled at the roots of my hair, glad I’d started growing it out so I had some to grab in frustration. I tried again. “I know you don’t like me—”

“And I’m your favorite person?”

I stood my ground.

“Fine,” she said. “Why are you here? Have you added sadomasochism to your list of extracurriculars?”

“No. It’s about Jack—”

She raised a long, skinny arm and pointed at the door. “Get out.”

“Stop cutting me off,” I yelled, instantly sorry when she flinched. I tried again in a lower voice. “You have to hear this. We called a truce, remember? All I’m asking for is a few minutes.”

Her face remained blank. “I’ll give you three.”

“He’s back.”

She stared at me, her face going paler with every passing second. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”