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Aside from what Arthur might do should he discover I’m gone—never mind the very real possibility that, after this stunt, Braxton will have good reason to never trust me again—I don’t think I’m being overdramatic when I say that if this Trip doesn’t go as I hope, then the state of the world—hell, the state of time itself—may never recover.

“Welcome to nineteen ninety-eight,” Elodie says, the sound of her voice snapping me out of my reverie. “A time when Google is still in its infancy,Sex and the Citypremiers on cable TV, and cell phones are basically the size of bricks.”

She gestures toward a guy in a suit shouting into a phone that’s nearly the size of his forearm. I guess I don’t respond quickly enough, because she places her hand on my shoulder, and says, “Hey there, you okay?”

Inhaling deeply, I nod. “I’m just…” I pause, collecting my thoughts. “Just trying to get my bearings.” I take a quick look around, my gaze skipping along a collection of skyscrapers so tall they seem to merge with the clouds. “The city is so much bigger in person. It’s a bit overwhelming,” I say.

“There’s a bar up ahead.” Elodie points toward a red awning where a bunch of people are lingering. “What do you say we start there?”

I turn to her in disbelief. A bar? Is she serious? “I didn’t come here for a pub crawl, El.” I shake my head, start to head down the crowded avenue, acting like I know exactly where I’m going, when we both know I don’t.

Still, what is she even doing here when she knew from the start I’d planned to Trip on my own?

All I know is one minute I was standing on the launchpad, fully convinced she was about to blast me into the past without the necessary clicker I’d need to find my way back. Then, before I can so much as blink, she’s right there beside me, eyes gleaming, lips stretched into a teeth-flashing grin as though it was all just some big, grand adventure.

As though Braxton wasn’t looking on, wearing an expression of shock and betrayal so deep, the image still haunts me.

“C’mon.” She trots up alongside me. “It looks decent enough.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes as I silently fume. It’s a classic Elodie move, always so eager to turn every mundane task into a party. Usually, it’s harmless enough, maybe even admirable. But in this instance, it’s a definite pass.

“This isn’t like ditching school, El.” I huff out a breath, not even trying to hide my annoyance. “This is serious. Probably the most serious thing I’ve ever done. I need to find my dad and, since I don’t exactly need you for that, then fine. Cheers! Salut! Bottoms up! Have your drink. Whatever. All I’m asking is that you leave me to do what I need to.”

Elodie’s fingers circle my wrist, stopping me cold. Lashes fluttering, blue eyes widening, she says, “Are you done?” She quirks a brow, but otherwise waits like we have all the time in the world.

I roll my eyes, try to free myself from her grip, but Elodie is stronger than she looks, and she locks me in place.

“Why are you always so determined to think the worst of me?” she asks. “Less than two hours ago you promised to put the past behind us and wipe the slate clean.”

I stare down at my feet, knowing she’s right. And yet, ever since she pulled that stunt on the launchpad, it’s like we’re right back where we started—with Elodie working an agenda known only to her, and me frantically trying to second-guess the true motivation behind her every move.

“Look, El,” I say, my voice competing with the New York City soundtrack of honking, shouting, and blaring police sirens. “Two days isn’t as long as you think, and—”

“Just do me a favor and kindly read the date, please.” Elodie plucks a copy ofThe New York Timesfrom the kiosk beside us and waves the newspaper before me.

Is she for real?With a determined jerk of my arm, I yank myself free. “Elodie, I don’t—”

“Pretty sure I saidplease.” She jiggles the paper impatiently.

I blow out a frustrated breath and squint at the small print.“Wednesday, June 3, 1998.” I shrug. “Okay, so, you got the year right. Well done. Now can I please just—”

“June third.” Elodie returns the newspaper to the stand and makes a theatrical display of tilting her head and tapping her chin. “Hmmm…I wonder why that date issofamiliar?” She trains her gaze directly on mine, having already grasped what I’m just now remembering.

June third is my dad’s birthday!

“How did you—” I start, but the words quickly fade. “Of course.” I tilt my head to the side and study her face. “You read my file.” My gaze holds hers. “Which means that first day, when you approached me at school, you already knew everything about me.”

She shrugs like it’s no big thing.

But it is a big thing. It gave her a massive advantage over me. Elodie had studied me, my interests, my family history. She knew exactly how to approach me, how to befriend me, how to manipulate me…and the worst part is, the same could be said of Braxton.

But like Braxton, does Elodie know thefull historyof my ancestral lineage?

Does she know that I’m a Timekeeper—the first female Timekeeper ever—and that my destiny is to stop Arthur from achieving his dream of controlling time and remaking the world?

And if so, does she also know that Braxton’s a Timekeeper, too?

And, more importantly, does she realize the entire purpose of this Trip isn’t just so I can reconnect with the dad who disappeared when I was eight, but so that I can convince him that I’m his future daughter—the one he won’t actually father for another seven years with a woman who, at this point, he hasn’t actually met—in hopes that he’ll teach me the tricks of the Timekeepers’ trade?