Page 66 of The Book of Lost Hours

“I’ve been searching for months, even before I came here. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The only thing that guarantees no one will take control of the time space again.”

Moira stepped toward him urgently. “Ernest, if you do this, you’ll be trapped. Not just for some number of years but forever.”

“I know,” he said, clenching his jaw.

“But Amelia…”

“She wouldn’t be affected. You told me she’s untethered from Time, which means she’ll continue existing even if we change the rest. If I do this, nothing will happen to her.”

Moira’s stomach twisted at his certainty. “I don’t mean that, Ernest. I mean she would be alone. If you’re gone, who is going to take care of her?”

“She would have you.”

Moira shook her head. “No, she wouldn’t. You know what would happen to me.” She thought about her brother. The cruel death he’d faced. With no time space for her father to hide in, would she suffer the same fate?

“It wouldn’t,” Ernest said firmly. “You and she are the same. Temporal departure, remember? You exist outside of the confines of Time.”

Moira bit her lip. Even if that was true, even if they didn’t change, everything else around them would.

The world as they knew it, and all the people they’d loved, would become something else.

Including Ernest. She reached for him, wanting to touch him, and then drew back, unsure.

Instead, he stepped forward and caught her face in his hands.

His skin was still warm from the shower, his eyes frighteningly sure of himself.

“Ernest, there has to be another way… I don’t want to risk losing you.”

“You won’t lose me,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “We’re linked, you and me. No matter where we end up, be it a country, an era, or an alternative version of the past, we’ll always find each other.”

She shook her head. “But what if you’re wrong?”

He stepped closer, his thumb stroking across her cheek. “If my theories are right, then there could be hundreds of versions of the way things are. Thousands of paths that a single consciousness could create for itself. Surely in one of them we’re happy.”

She shook her head again, more vehemently. “But you don’t know, Ernest. You can’t possibly know if you’re right. If this is your solution, then let me be the one to…”

His hands tensed. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Ernest, it would be better that way. You could be destroying yourself completely. But like you said, I’m untethered. I might survive.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Ernest said firmly. “On the off chance that I’m wrong about all of this… I’m not going to be left behind again. I’m not going to lose you when I actually have a choice this time.”

Moira gave him a sad smile. “You wouldn’t be losing me. It’s impossible to lose what you don’t remember.”

“No,” he said harshly, hands sliding down to her shoulders.

“You don’t know. It’s never happened to you.

When you made me forget you, it still hurt me, I just didn’t know why.

I knew something was missing. Some vital piece of my life was gone, and I couldn’t figure out what it was.

I thought it was just the latent effects of being a soldier.

Some kind of long-term grief. But it wasn’t.

It was you. You have no idea what that’s like.

To lose a part of yourself and not understand why. ”

“If you do this, you’ll be doing that to me. Is that what you want?”

Ernest faltered slightly. “No,” he said quietly. Barely a whisper.

“Then find another way,” she said. She pressed the notebook against his chest, eyes pleading. “Please, Ernest. There has to be another solution.”

He let go of her to take the book, conflict still brewing on his face. “Okay,” he said, pulling her to him with one arm. “Okay.”

“Promise me. Tell me you won’t do it. Promise me.”

He kissed her forehead very gently, reaching up to wipe away the tear she hadn’t realized she’d shed.

He kissed the bridge of her nose. Both of her eyelids.

He held her close and finally kissed her lips.

But he didn’t answer. He didn’t promise.

They slept together that night for the first time since she’d arrived.

She could feel an urgency in his movements that set her on edge.

It was familiar. A kind of desperation she’d seen in him once before on the night she had agreed to leave the time space with him.

It was after midnight when she awoke to the sound of a door closing.

The bed beside her was still warm, but Ernest was not in it.

She got up, assuming he was in the other room.

When she opened the door, he wasn’t there.

Had he gone out? She began pulling on her clothes, paranoia creeping in. The chain was still on the front door.

Her eyes flew to the watches on the countertop.

The box was open. One was missing. She cursed out loud, reaching for her coat.

She grabbed her father’s old one by mistake, feeling the shift of his watch in the pocket.

As an afterthought, she took her revolver.

She spun the crown of her own watch and marched through the bedroom door.

A MELIA HEARD footsteps. She looked up, assuming it was Anton. Instead, she saw her uncle standing at the end of the row, frozen in shock.

“No,” she breathed, uncurling her legs. What was he doing here? Was he a memory? She struggled to her feet and began walking toward him, heart thudding.

“Amelia…” he said in a shaking voice.

She walked faster. “Don’t be dead,” she murmured. “Please, don’t be dead.”

She threw her arms around him, half expecting to pass right through.

He caught her, his body as strong and solid as it had ever been.

Amelia began to sob. She buried her face in his neck, feeling her feet leave the ground as he lifted her up.

They stayed there, standing in the center aisle of the time space, tall shelves surrounding them, the chasm just beyond it all.

He smoothed her hair back away from her face and she saw that he was crying too.

She’d only ever seen him cry once before. At his sister’s funeral.

“Why are you here?” she asked when she could finally breathe.

“I came to get you out,” he said.

“Is it over?”

“Not yet. Almost.”

“Where’s…” Amelia paused. She didn’t know what to call her anymore. Lisavet? Moira? Something else?

“She’s outside still. I wanted to come and see you first.”

First? Amelia sniffled. “I met Azrael,” she said. “He… he showed me everything.”

“Everything?” Uncle Ernest’s arms tensed ever so slightly.

She pulled back to look at him. She’d always thought she looked like him but now she could really see it. “Everything,” she said, choking on it. And then she was crying again. She buried her face against his shoulder. “Don’t leave me again. Please. Don’t leave me.”

He kissed her forehead and held her closer. One of his hands rubbed circles against her back. After a long time, he asked, “Amelia. Where is Anton?”