Page 58 of The Book of Lost Hours

It was all Moira could do not to shed tears of frustration. She refused to give Jack the satisfaction of seeing her run off to the ladies’ room to cry, so she forced herself to stay at her desk and work the whole day through. Ernest did not return.

Moira took his coat and briefcase with her when she left, making her way to Ernest’s apartment by bus. When he opened the door to see her standing there, he looked surprised.

“Moira? What are you doing here?”

“I told you I would come by,” she reminded him.

Ernest’s expression tightened. “Right. Right, I remember that now. It’s just…”

The sound of a child laughing came from inside the apartment.

“Amelia’s here,” Moira said breathlessly. She forced herself to keep her eyes fixed on Ernest even though she desperately wanted to look over his shoulder. To catch a glimpse of the child she hadn’t seen in years.

“Yes,” Ernest said, shifting uncomfortably. “I went to pick her up from school over the weekend. I’m sorry, I thought I told you.”

“No, you did; I guess I just forgot. I’m sorry, I can come back later. I just wanted to bring you these.” She held up the coat and briefcase. “You left without them this morning.”

Ernest bit his lip, looking a little ashamed for reasons she couldn’t fathom. “You know what, actually, why don’t you come in?”

Moira’s heartbeat quickened. “Are you sure?”

“Sure. You were going to meet her tomorrow anyway. Maybe this is better.”

Right. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he was supposed to bring Amelia into the office to introduce them before he took her out for the day. She was supposed to meet up with them for dinner and then to see a movie. Just the three of them.

Moira knew it was a bad idea. She wasn’t prepared for this. To see her child, their child, with such little time to steel herself against the myriad emotions she was already feeling. Ernest opened the door to let her in. She had to remind herself to breathe as she stepped inside.

Amelia was seated on the sofa in the living room.

Moira could only see the back of her head.

The bright copper waves that matched Ernest’s exactly.

But then she turned around. The first thing Moira noticed was that she had her nose.

Her pale ivory skin. Other than that, she was all him, right down to the freckles that only revealed themselves in the summertime.

“Amelia, this is Moira,” Ernest said. “She’s, uh,… a friend of mine.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Amelia asked, scrutinizing Moira through sharp, analytical eyes. The blue in them belonged to Ernest but the look… well, that look was all her mother. Moira wondered how Ernest didn’t see it.

Ernest laughed nervously. “What makes you think that?”

“She’s too pretty to be just your friend.”

Moira cracked a smile.

“But not too pretty to be my girlfriend?” Ernest asked.

Amelia narrowed her eyes at Moira again. “Are you a spy too?”

Ernest made a noise. “Amelia, how many times do I have to tell you? I’m not a spy. And neither is she.”

Amelia shrugged and turned back around to face the television. “That’s exactly what a spy would say.”

Ernest crept up behind her. “Well, in that case you better mind your manners, young lady. You know what they say about spies, don’t you?”

Amelia’s body tensed in anticipation. “What?”

He leaned closer, hissing in her ear. “That they’re deadly.” Ernest grabbed her around the middle and lifted her over the back of the sofa. She squealed in delight as he swung her through the air. Moira thought her heart might burst out of her chest. Ernest set Amelia back down on her feet.

“All right, kiddo. Off to bed.”

“But it’s only eight!” Amelia protested.

“And you’re only nine,” Ernest said, tapping her on the nose. “Which means you have to listen to me.”

Amelia made an indignant face at him and folded her arms.

“Sorry, kid, I don’t make the rules,” Ernest said apologetically. He kissed her forehead and propelled her down the hall. “Off you go.”

Amelia shot Moira a scathing look as she passed, seeming to decide that her presence was the reason she was being sent to bed early. The door to her bedroom slammed shut and Ernest sighed.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Moira said.

“I did if I want you to have a good opinion about my parenting skills,” Ernest said, coming over to slide his arm around her waist. “Amelia can be… a handful. Especially around company.”

“You seem like you’re doing fine,” Moira said, reveling in the feeling of his arm around her. The brief glimpse of happiness soon faded, though, leaving her with the harsh reality of what came next.

Ernest stepped away to the kitchen to make coffee. As he did, Moira listened to the sounds coming from Amelia’s room. The loud opening and closing of drawers in protest as she donned her pajamas.

“So…” Moira began, joining Ernest in the kitchen. “That was some argument earlier.”

Ernest ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“I asked him about the Frenchman. He gave some evasive response. I pushed him.” He paused in the middle of scooping coffee into the coffeemaker to look up at her. “Reminded him that I was supposed to be in the know about everything happening at the TRP. Especially in light of…”

“His promotion?” Moira finished for him.

“Yeah. If I’m going to be taking over for him, I need to know what’s going on.”

“So you’ve been offered the director position?”

“Not yet. Jack’s still got a few weeks before his own role is finalized. Background checks and the like.”

Moira busied herself retrieving mugs from the cabinet to avoid looking at him.

“Did he talk to you yet?” Ernest asked. “About New York?”

“He mentioned it.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Are you going to go?”

There was a pause. Ernest reached for her hand, turning her toward him. He studied her expression, blinking a few times.

“You are,” he said, his eyes filling with distress.

“I don’t have any other options,” Moira said.

“What do you mean? Of course you do.”

Moira tried to keep it lighthearted, forcing a laugh. “Yeah? What are they then? Because I sure don’t know.”

Ernest swallowed, dropping his eyes. “You could stay.”

“Stay. And do what? Jack will fire me if I don’t go. I’d be out of a job.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking…” Ernest blew out a long breath. Wherever this conversation was about to go, he seemed to decide against it and abruptly changed the subject. “Have you ever thought about leaving?” he asked, turning back to the stove.

“Leaving?”

“Leaving the TRP. Going somewhere else.”

She had thought about leaving. All the time she dreamed of what it would be like to be in control of her own life. But Jack would never allow it. She was as trapped here as she had been in the time space. By Jack, but also by her own desires to protect the people she loved.

“You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?” she asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know what I’m thinking anymore.”

“Is this about your fight with Jack?”

“Yes and no. I don’t know. I just… Lately I’m not sure if what we’re doing at the TRP is right. I used to believe it was. I thought we were building something. Keeping dangerous ideas from dominating history, but now I’m not so sure.”

So that’s what they’d fought about that had made Jack so angry. His second-in-command veering off course.

“Jack always says what we’re doing helps stop the spread of communism. That we’re preventing wars like the last one. It’s what’s necessary.”

Ernest was looking at her strangely. “Do you really believe that?”

“I have to.”

“Have to? Because you’re a part of it too?” He said this slowly as if he already knew the answer. “Because you’ve been helping him?”

“Ernest…”

“Moira, be honest with me. Those timekeepers who have gone missing… you know where they went, don’t you?”

She didn’t say anything. He understood.

“So when I asked you the other day if you knew anything, you lied?”

“I couldn’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because of Jack.”

“Right. Jack. So instead, you told me I should ask him and let me risk my career with that argument when you could have just told me the truth.”

“I didn’t think there would be an argument.”

Just then, the kettle started to boil over on the stove. Ernest cursed under his breath and took it off the burner. This wasn’t going the way it was supposed to.

Ernest sighed as he poured coffee into their cups. “I don’t want to fight with you too. I just have one more question and then I’ll drop it.”

“Okay. What is it?”

“Has Jack ever spoken to you about someone named Lisavet Levy?”

The name was the final nail in the coffin.

Moira knew then that Jack was right. She needed to fix this before Ernest’s questions became something more.

She gave him a vague answer, just convincing enough.

She could have told him anything and he wouldn’t remember it after tonight.

Eventually he calmed down. They drank their coffee, and he began talking through the ideas he had for the TRP once Jack was gone.

Ernest wanted to expand their relationship with other timekeepers and put an end to all the hostility. Always the diplomat.

Moira accepted his offer to spend the night, late as it was. She kissed him as he fell asleep, feeling the warmth of his arms around her, the realest thing she had ever known. For a moment, his eyes opened just a little, one hand reaching up to caress her cheek.

“Moira…” he said sleepily. “You—”