He took a deep, shaky breath and then continued, looking down at the keyboard and typing in a few strokes. “So—what follows is a brief video compilation of Trey and Kate’s greatest hits. All those nights when I’d come home and then we’d end up on a video chat for half an hour or more? Well, I saved them, all except that first time, ’cause I didn’t have the software yet. I don’t really know why I saved them. It’s not like I ever had a chance to rewatch them, since I was always with you. But they’re all here, on my hard drive. I’m going to burn them to disk, along with a couple videos I took on my phone and the ones we recorded at your party. Everything I can find. Oh, and if you check out the file directory, the stuff Dad promised is there as well.
“The DVD was Connor’s idea, so if it helps, we owe him big. It didn’t even occur to me, but he told me that anything I left there, with you, would be protected, just like the books are. You need to make a copy, once you’re back here, in the present. Or past, I guess. Ask Connor. He can explain it better than I can. I think this could work, Kate—this would be pretty hard to fake. I mean… I’d have to be incredibly dense not to recognize a message from myself, right?
“Here goes then—Lawrence Alma Coleman the Third, also known as Trey. If you have any doubts that this is you talking into the computer, I know what you did that Saturday afternoon when you were thirteen and Mom, Dad, and Estella went to that art gallery opening over on R Street. Never told anyone about that, did you?”
I smiled and made a mental note to ask him, one day, exactly what he’d done that Saturday.
“The girl who gave you this disk is Prudence Katherine Pierce-Keller, aka Kate the Time-Traveling Ninja. She has a few memories that you don’t. Maybe these videos will help bridge that gap. But really, all you need to know is this—she has the prettiest green eyes in the universe and very ticklish feet. She’s a sucker for Princess Bride quotes, onion rings from O’Malley’s, coffee—but not if Connor made it—and you’re so in love that you cannot imagine life without her.
“Now, back to you, Kate,” Trey said. “Find me, kiss me, and make sure I get this message. In that order. And hurry, okay? I love you—and I miss you already.”
He was still staring at the camera as the video faded out and shifted to one of the webcam shots, with my face in the big screen and Trey’s in a smaller inset window in the upper right-hand corner. We weren’t talking about anything, really—just an excuse to be together for a few more minutes before sleep. I clicked through quickly, knowing that I would go back later and watch every single minute. They were all there, in chronological order, as best I could tell. Every conversation, every silly joke, me painting my toenails while we talked, Trey offering me a bite of ice cream and dripping chocolate syrup on the camera.
I was laughing and crying at the same time when I heard a soft knock at the door.
Connor cracked the door and stepped in, carrying a large tray. “Should I come back?” he asked.
“No. You have food,” I said. “Don’t you dare leave.” I moved the computer to the other side of the bed and slid over to make room. “In just a minute, I’m going to start shoving that into my mouth as fast as possible, and it wouldn’t be polite to talk then, so let me say thank you first. For everything, but especially for giving Trey this idea. This is why he was able to let go, isn’t it? Why he stopped fighting me about staying here when I made the jump.”
“I suspect I would have had to evict him bodily otherwise, and he would probably have still camped out on the porch.” Connor smiled, shaking his head. “I thought he’d tell you himself, but maybe he didn’t want to jinx it. You’re going to need to make a copy of that disk—once you go back to before the last time shift. Make it here, at the house, and it should be okay. It’ll be a video from this time, but the disk—that will be in the same timeline as Trey, so… you should just be able to give it to him.”
I had the sandwich unwrapped and was already eating. “It won’t vanish? Or be blank?” I asked, with my mouth half full.
“Not as long as you make a copy,” he said. “I’m not positive, but I can’t see why it wouldn’t work. The diaries still work, right?”
I glanced down at the sandwich in my hand. “You’d better be glad that I’m too happy to be mad at you,” I said between bites. “This is Trey’s roast beef. Did you eat my pastrami?”
“Didn’t know if you were coming back,” he said. “Shame to let a good sandwich go to waste.”
I spent the next few days sleeping, eating, and recording everything that I could remember about the past month. Then I saved the files in a CHRONOS diary to give to Katherine and Connor, and backed everything up on a DVD to give to Dad and eventually, I hoped, to Mom as well.
By day three, the burn on my neck had faded to the point where a scalding cup of coffee actually could have been a possible cause. I dragged my Briar Hill uniform from the back of the closet and very gingerly pulled my hair back, being careful to hide the few bare spots near the nape of my neck.
I retrieved my ID holder—now short two photographs—from the dresser drawer. I’d eventually add new photos of Mom and Dad, but for now I put in a photograph that Connor had taken of me and Trey in the backyard with Daphne, and the picture of me with Charlayne, our arms around each other, grinning from ear to ear with our new belts—mine brown and hers blue—tied around our white jackets.
Both of those photos would vanish if I ever took them outside of a CHRONOS field. If Connor’s theory was right, I could always make copies later—and a vanishing photo might come in handy. Either way, the CHRONOS key was going to be a permanent accessory from now on. That was kind of annoying, since one of the reasons I’d agreed to this insanity was because I didn’t want the constant worry of what might happen if something separated me from the medallion. But given everything I’d been through over the past few weeks, being stuck with an odd piece of jewelry seemed like a small price to pay for a little existence insurance and an emergency exit option.
There were a few other items I couldn’t leave behind—like the necklace and T-shirts Trey had given me, even though I knew that I could never take them out of Katherine’s house if I wasn’t wearing them. I shoved the items into Katherine’s handbag along with the Book of Prophecy and the DVD that Trey had made.
It seemed a bit silly to be sad about saying good-bye to Katherine and Connor when I’d be seeing them in just a few minutes, but I was. They wouldn’t be the same Katherine and Connor. Our relationship would have to be rebuilt, and I could tell that they were thinking the same thing. I kissed them both, and gave Daphne a pat on the head. At least with her, I was pretty sure everything would be the same if I threw in a couple of dog treats and a few minutes of belly scratching.
And then I pulled up the stable point for Katherine’s foyer, set it for 9 A.M. on April 7th, and went back to my life.
Connor was surprised, to say the least, when I appeared without warning in the hallway. He was just coming out of the kitchen, wearing the same jeans and plaid shirt he’d been wearing when he’d rushed out to pay the cab driver after my backpack was stolen. He yelled for Katherine, and she came hurrying down the stairs in her red bathrobe. And then we all sat down on the couch, and Connor made the bad coffee. But instead of Katherine telling me her story, I told them mine—or at least enough specifics that they could play their parts for a few days. And Connor passed me the entire box of gingersnaps, instead of three measly cookies this time.
I borrowed Katherine’s phone to call Mom and tell her about the accident—nothing major, I said, just a scald. But I’d lost my backpack in the confusion. Of course, I started crying the moment I heard her voice on the other end of the line, but she mistook the tears for worry about the backpack.
“Kate, sweetie, it’s no big deal. I’ll cancel the credit card; we’ll get you a new phone and iPod. We’ll pay for the books. I’m not angry about this, so you don’t need to be upset.”
“I know, Mom. I love you.”
“Do you need me to come there, Kate? You sound really shaken.”
“No, no. That’s okay, Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Then I called the Briar Hill office and asked if they could give Dad a message—I’d had a minor accident and wouldn’t be in trig class, but I’d see him back at the cottage.
Connor drove me to the cottage a few minutes later. My hands shook as I slid the key into the lock, just as they had when Trey was waiting on the steps. There was no #1 Grandma mug. Dad’s wok was in its usual place on top of the cabinets. I rushed to the fridge, and saw the jambalaya on the second shelf.
There would be plenty of time to tell Dad everything when he got back from class. For now, I just sank down on the sofa and closed my eyes. Home.
Telling Dad was a multistage process, and the fact that I broke down into tears the first time I saw him didn’t help to expedite matters. At least Dad understood what was going on after a long conversation with Katherine and Connor and a few demonstrations with the CHRONOS key. He and I agreed that it was probably best, for now, to keep this between us. So Mom didn’t have a clue why I hit her with a waterworks display and extra long hug when she walked in the door after classes on Wednesday evening. That’s really not our typical style of interaction, and I think she was seriously considering scheduling another session with the shrink. I talked her into dinner at O’Malley’s instead. Extra onion rings.
Most pieces of my normal life fell back into place over the next few days. I returned to my typical routine of Mom’s house, Dad’s house, and school. The only major changes were packing up some of my things for the upcoming move to Katherine’s house and having to remind myself that there was no Charlayne for me in this timeline.
And I kept putting off the very thing I’d promised to do first.
The freshly printed DVD was in my new backpack. I’d scanned the photo of the two of us for safekeeping, and I was pretty sure that the original I’d tucked into the ID holder would vanish as soon as I handed it to him. I’d watched the DVD at least a dozen times and even left a copy on Dad’s kitchen counter when I went to class on Friday, just to prove to myself that it wouldn’t disappear and that the contents would remain the same. It was still there when I returned, and it was still Trey’s face that greeted me when I inserted it into the computer. There was no logical reason to put this off, but the knowledge that Trey would look at me and see a complete stranger terrified me.
Finally, on Sunday afternoon, when we were clearing away the dishes from a wonderful spinach lasagna, Dad suggested gelato for dessert. From Ricci’s, near Dupont Circle. Just a few short blocks from Kalorama Heights. Walking distance to Trey. My stomach sank.
Dad watched me a moment and then shook his head. “You can’t put this off forever, Kate. You said you made the boy a promise. Even if it isn’t exactly the same as the relationship you remember, it isn’t fair to Trey or to yourself not to give it a chance. And,” he said with a grin, “I’m getting tired of hearing you play that DVD. Did you two ever talk about anything remotely substantive?”