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“No one in Jasper would believe what really happened. No one was going to sit on a jury and fairly consider that the minister was a bad man or that he wanted to hurt you. That’s not the Nathaniel this town knew.”

The only other person alive who did was Caleb. That grim flash in his eyes when he talked about his father,ourfather, was unmistakable.

“I can’t believe I pulled you into this,” I murmured.

“You didn’t pull me into anything, June. You needed my help, and I gave it to you. You would have done the same for me.”

“But Caleb knows we’re lying, Eamon. He looked me in the eye and he told me he knows.”

“He can’t prove anything.”

I wasn’t convinced. He had more reason than ever to pursue us as suspects, especially after what he’d found in the house. It wasn’t proof, but it only corroborated that we had more interest in Nathaniel than we pretended to.

“He was willing to break the law, break into ourhome,to look for evidence.”

Eamon’s expression changed. I hadn’t meant to sayour,but I had.

“What if Annie had been here?” My voice rose.

“She wasn’t.”

“What if he knows who I really am?”

“Hedoesn’t.”

I pressed my fingers to my mouth, shaking my head. “There’s something else here. I just can’t see it yet.”

That’s what I’d been thinking for days. There was still more that I’d been hiding from everyone. Why leave at such a precarious time unless I had to?

The memories weren’t coming fast enough to answer all of my questions. And I didn’t know how much time we had to figure it out.

1912, 1946, 1950, 1951.

The years alternated in my mind, like flash cards.

Four years, four crossings, but my crossing in 1951 couldn’t have been predicted. Not unless it was planned.

I could see the two threads of my life.

The first was up to 2024, when I’d seemingly fallen for Mason and then went through the door only to meet Eamon. I made my choice. Lived five years with him, and then I’d left.

The second thread was the one I was living now. It spanned the same life until 2023, when my path was altered. I’d gone through thedoor early, and I’d never let myself fall in love with Mason. But somehow, I ended up where the first thread had ended.

Esther had called it an overlap, but it was more like folding time.

My eyes widened.

Eamon was watching me carefully now. “What?”

“Folding time,” I said, still trying to chase the thought down. “They’re becoming one. That’s why I’m losing memories. That’s why, in 2022, I started having episodes the exact month and day that I left here.”

“June, I’m not following.”

I pulled at the thought surfacing in the back of my mind, trying to gently coax it forward. I walked to the kitchen with heavy steps, yanking the drawers open until I found what I was looking for—a spool of thick brown twine and a paring knife.

I set the knife down on the small kitchen table, and Eamon came to stand on the other side, studying me. I took the end of the twine and tugged until it was strung through the air between us. Then I pulled at its end with my fingers until the threads began unraveling.

“The curse isn’t the door, Eamon. It’s the splitting of time. Esther says that our minds are like a fraying rope.” I let the loosening fibers work their way down the length of the twine. “For every Farrow, it’s the same. Because we are one long, unraveling cord. Esther, Margaret, Susanna, me…we’re all connected.”