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A laughter so unexpected, it prompted Braxton to deviate from the script, drawn to the girl who defied expectations.

It was the moment that, unbeknownst to us, first linked our fates.

And now, as Arthur expects me to shrink away from his advancing blade, I scramble to stand, determined to confront him head-on.

Just as I start to rise, his eyes appear to meet mine, though I know it’s not me he sees. His vision is filled with the debris of dying dreams, the hope of ever reuniting with his wife now gone up in flames.

Arthur is reduced to the very essence of what’s been driving him all along—and all that pain, all that self-blame, is now directed solely at me.

In a bone-chilling howl of despair and a quick flash of silver, my life is soon to be over. But despite being unarmed, I won’t go down without a fight.

I plant my feet firmly, resolve hardening within me as I prepare to face him, determined to end this once and for all.

Then, to my bewilderment, just as I’ve accepted my fate, Arthur stops, the dagger drops from his hand, and the next thing I know, his body collapses onto mine and together we crash to the ground.

It’s only then, when Arthur is sprawled across me, that I notice the hilt of Killian’s dagger protruding from his back.

“How’s that for redemption?” Killian says, glancing between Arthur and me, the light in his eyes beginning to fade. “Looks like I chose you after all, Shiv.”

At the sight of her father’s crumpled body, Elodie’s screams carve up the night. Rushing to Arthur’s side, she drags him off me and quickly assesses his condition. Realizing he’s gravely injured, but possibly not beyond saving if he receives prompt attention, she turns to us and says, “Just go, already! Both of you—now!”

I look between her and Arthur, wondering which bears the heavier burden—Arthur’s palpable sense of defeat or the physical toll of his injury.

“And what about the portal, and Braxton?” I ask, gesturing toward the young boy.

“I’ll handle it,” Elodie says. “All of it. I promise.”

I promise.

The words linger between us, leaving me to question the true value of a promise made by Elodie Blue.

My gaze is drawn to the golden serpent pendant adorning her neck, a potent symbol of fertility, protection, wisdom, healing, temptation, evil, rebirth, and immortality. I can’t help but wonder which of these things might’ve resonated with her enough to choose it as her talisman.

There was a time when I would’ve believed that a promise from Elodie was worth very little, if anything at all. But the Elodie now tending to her father, despite the way he abandoned her, is not the girl I once knew.

This Trip has changed her, changed all of us, in ways we may never fully understand.

“Do you need the clicker?” she asks, blinking through tears.

I hesitate, though I’m not sure why. All our old secrets, it seems, are now out in the open. “No,” I tell her. “I have my own.”

She fixes me with her wide blue gaze. “Of course you do,” she says, shaking her head and rolling her eyes just like the old Elodie that I knew back in school. “And what the hell is that on your arm?”

I follow her gaze to see the completed Flower of Life now marking my flesh—a symbol that my journey as a Timekeeper has come to an end.

Returning my focus to her, I ask, “How will you get back?” worried about the all-too-real possibility of her getting stranded in time.

“Who said I’m going back?” She offers a tearful grin. “Like you said, I never fail to capture the heart of anyone I set my sights on. I’m sure Nash will be more than happy to take me back. And, if not, there’s always someone else, in some other place and time. Do you think you can find it within you to help Killian reach the portal?”

I turn to Killian. Considering how he spared me from the brunt of Arthur’s blade, I guess I owe him that much. “Yeah,” I say. “I can do that.”

“Then you better hurry,” Elodie warns, “because he’s moments away from crossing his own timeline.”

“Don’t fucking tempt her,” Killian mutters.

Removing the red cape Braxton’s father gave me, I retrieve my dagger and use it to slice off a long strip of fabric. I carefully wrap it around the wound at Killian’s chest, hoping it might help stanch the bleeding.

You have been here before. Done this before. Time is a flat circle looping back on itself.