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Mr. Webber pursed his lips briefly, considering it. “I’ll admit, I am puzzled how you know my name, miss.”

“Please,” Cassie said, feeling her eyes close with the effort of remaining calm. “Please let me tell you just one thing.”

“Okay,” he said. “What do you want to tell me?”

Cassie nodded and felt whole worlds of hope and despair pivoting on one moment, on one sentence.

“When you were in Rome, when you were younger,” she said. “You stayed at a guesthouse near the Trevi Fountain. The woman who owned the hotel came into the room to give you coffee and found you naked.”

Mr. Webber absorbed that with a blank expression, and then he sat back in his chair, his brow creased, and he stared at Cassie for a long time.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“My name is Cassie,” she said.

“I’ve never told anyone that story. No one. Nobody can know that. How do you know?”

“You told me,” Cassie said. “We’re friends. That’s how I know your name. That’s how I know where you live. I was waiting for you earlier. It’s how I know you come here regularly to sit and read your books. I know you loveThe Count of Monte Cristo.”

“But how do you know these things?” Mr. Webber asked, shaking his head. “We’ve never met.”

“No,” Cassie agreed. “That’s the hard bit, Mr. Webber. I’m from the future. We meet in the future and become friends. And I don’t expect you to believe that because... well, it’s outrageous, isn’t it?”

Mr. Webber was watching her, and she could see that he was having some sort of internal debate, wrestling with conflicting facts.

“I’m not dangerous, Mr. Webber,” she said. “I’m just stranded here, alone and with no money and no friends that can help. You are the only person I know who might be able to help.”

Mr. Webber took a sip of his drink. “I don’t know if I believe you,” he said. “What you’re saying... it is too fabulous, too crazy.”

She nodded sadly, her eyes dropping to the table. Of course he wouldn’t believe her. Why would anyone?

But he didn’t chase her away. When she looked up again, he was still watching her.

“I can’t work out how you could possibly know about Rome,” he said, but he was speaking more to himself. “I have toldnobodythat story. I have never written it down. If this is some sort of scam or confidence trick... I can’t possibly see how you would know that. And I’ve already given you money today. What reason would you have for speaking to me?”

“It’s not a scam,” Cassie said quietly.

They sat in silence for a while.

The store had quieted and now there were only a few other people browsing, a young couple sitting at one of the other tables with their heads close together and giggling. The day was trundling along, evening turning to night, and Cassie felt her heart sink as she contemplated stepping out of the comforting familiarity of the shop and back into the lonely evening.

“Do you have a phone?” Mr. Webber asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“What?” Cassie asked.

“A phone,” he said. “A cell phone. Everyone carries a phone these days.”

“Yes,” Cassie said, automatically patting the pockets of her coat.

“Let me see it, please,” Mr. Webber requested, extending a hand.

“Why?” Cassie asked.

“If you want me to believe you, if you don’t want me to get up and leave right now, let me see your phone.”

Cassie contemplated the request for a moment and could see no downside. She dug out her phone and passed it over.

“Unlock it, please,” he said, handing it back to her.