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  Leanor had called this time “perfect.” What else had she been wrong about?

  Charlotte pressed the wetness from her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, Charlotte,” Monroe said. “When Bill suggested, we didn’t know …”

  Bill. How was he taking this? All he’d watched were the people along the way, and now he must be feeling what Charlotte was. But when her eyelids fluttered open, sticking slightly from the tears, Bill’s eyes were clear.

  His focus was on a blond girl across the way. She wore a black leather jacket, her ears pierced with seven ruby earrings. Her jeans were emblazoned with mirrors in a fashion Charlotte had never seen. She didn’t seem to belong. Was that what caught Bill’s attention?

  But no, there was sadness in this kid’s eyes, too. Almost as if she knew what was going to happen, even though she couldn’t.

  “Bill?” Charlotte asked, stepping beside him.

  He turned, his face wide-open. “She just … She appeared out of nowhere,” he said. “Out of thin air, clutching a metal sphere. Another astrolabe.”

  A high-pitched whine howled inside Charlotte’s head, blotting out Monroe’s response, the birdsong, the gusting wind.

  No. No, Bill couldn’t be right. Some punk girl couldn’t have an astrolabe. That’d mean Leanor’s tech got out of control. Or that someone had stolen it, no matter how safe Leanor claimed to be. Or that Leanor herself had stolen the schematics and only pretended to invent an astrolabe of her own.

  This was something else. It had to be.

  • • • • • • • • • • • •

  Something … “Something’s wrong,” Charlotte said. “Something happened. Someone must’ve stolen the tech or … We should go back. Tell Leanor. See if we can prevent this.” Even if Leanor sold the tech, some kid with feathered-out, platinum-dyed hair shouldn’t have one. The astrolabe wasn’t a toy, even if that was what Charlotte had believed she’d been working on initially.

  But going back, explaining the risks to Leanor … Would that mean Charlotte wouldn’t be able to travel with Monroe? Would everything come undone? Would Felix and Charlie arrive minutes later, and she’d never be able to tell them what the astrolabe could actually do?

  Charlotte clenched her fingers together. This girl was going to ruin everything.

  “Char?” Monroe began, but she was storming away—unable to hear his question, his worry, his warning.

  “Who are you?” Charlotte asked, approaching the kid. Though, as she folded her arms over her chest, Charlotte saw the beginnings of crow’s-feet beside the woman’s hawk eyes.

  The sadness behind this woman’s irises vanished. “Who am I? I’m no one. Run along; go about your day like it’s nothing.”

  Charlotte gritted her teeth together. “This isn’t my day.”

  “Not …” The woman’s eyes trailed their way down Charlotte’s white blouse, following the strap of her leather purse to where the purse bulged with the weight of the astrolabe. “Oh, fuck, no,” she said in a whispery inhale, and took a step backward. “No, no, you get the fuck away from me. I don’t know who you are, or how you found me, but go. I didn’t change this city just to be stopped now. Tell them you failed; tell them whatever the fuck you have to. Live your life and never come back, never come for me again.”

  Charlotte drew herself up, flexing the muscles she’d gained from years of working off fat that Monroe never had to deal with. This woman was threatening her? Telling her what to do? Well, Charlotte wasn’t one to be bossed around. Not even Felix did that.

  This woman wouldn’t stop her from seeing all of time with Monroe. From letting Charlie meet his grandpa.

  “Where did you get that device?” Charlotte asked. “Did you steal it from Leanor?” The woman tilted her head. “You couldn’t have invented it on your own; that much I know.”

  “You don’t … You think … ?”

  “What do you mean, you changed this city?” Bill asked, stepping beside Charlotte. She could see that he’d drawn himself out of his usual slouch, pulled in his stomach a little. “Wouldn’t that break time? Ruin history?”

  “And who’s ‘them’?” Monroe asked. “Why would anyone send us here?”

  “Jesus,” the woman said. “You don’t even know. You have no clue who I am, do you?”

  “Enlighten us,” Charlotte said.

  “What is this?” the woman asked, the fear evaporating from her voice. “Your first trip?” She glanced at Bill, said, “Did I change time; did I break it?” She laughed. “You can’t break time, just like you can’t break a mountain by chiseling a face into it. You make it your own. And this?” She glared at Charlotte. “This is my device.” She hefted a mesh orb from her bag, about the same size as Charlotte’s astrolabe, but composed of a different material.

  She activated her device with a flick of her finger; light glowed through the mesh. “I’m going. Four time travelers is too big a spotlight. And thanks to me”—her eyes fell on Monroe—“you’ll never meet them at all.”

  She released her hand and blipped out of existence.

  Charlotte tugged her astrolabe from her bag. “C’mon,” she said, holding it out and illuminating it in one motion. “We have to tell Leanor. She’ll know what’s going on.” Would she? If Leanor did, that would mean she’d been lying all this time. “Or she’ll know what to do.” It didn’t matter. “Let’s go.”

  Monroe hesitated, then reached a hand to Charlotte’s shoulder.

  Bill didn’t. “Go? We can’t just go. You heard her. This is Heisenberg! He was right, change is possible, time is malleable and … Well, look where we are. How can we just leave?”

  Jesus. “I thought you were worried about the butterfly effect?”

  Bill shook his head, but his focus stayed on Charlotte. “I am. I was. I am. But what if she’s right? What if time is what you make it? What if we can make it better?” Now his gaze lifted to the World Trade Center above.

  “You’ll take her word for it? A woman who gave us zero answers? A woman who shouldn’t even exist?”

  Bill folded his arms. “Not just her. A well established—”

  “We’re going, Bill.” Charlotte should’ve rescheduled. Told Monroe how important this was. Or—God, why didn’t she think of this before?—taken Monroe through time during those two minutes when Bill had been inside Suni’s. Two minutes were limitless. “If you really like, you can tell Leanor all about Heisenberg, argue until you’re blue. And then she’ll calmly tell you exactly why he and this woman are wrong.”

  Charlotte hoped.

  Bill balled his hands into fists. Bit his lip. And then he sighed, stepping over. “Fine,” he said, rubbing his bald head. “But why would time care when our universe doesn’t?”

  Without replying, Charlotte drew a C on the astrolabe, and lights spattered on the ground below. She twisted the lights, the dates advancing quickly, until she found the sticking point that meant their time.

  The men gripped her shoulder, and she let go. Time swept them through twenty-two years. For a second, planes flashed in the sky, followed by a dusty cloud around them. But as time sped up, a construction pit grew below their feet. They were kept frozen in the air as Freedom Tower constructed beside them. When at last time restarted, the same night, the same second they’d left, only two square holes remained of what they’d seen.

  Without knowing why, Charlotte stepped toward the closest square hole, and the others followed. All along the edge, names were carved in black marble. Water fell in sheets along the sides, then along a sloped path to the center, where lights blazed up into the sky, bright as day.

  Did time self-correct, as she and Leanor had believed? Or was it more like a mountain that could be carved?

  “I’m sorry,” Charlotte said. She’d stopped Bill, and here was the result. How many people died that day? Monroe would know the exact figure, but Charlotte didn’t dare ask. “Leanor will know. She’ll tell us if time can be changed. C’mon.”

  On the
short subway ride back to Suni’s, no one talked. But this time Charlotte didn’t feel judgment or worry from the men. Like her, their minds were probably too crowded. Who was that anachronistic woman? And did a “them” mean there were even more time travelers? And time … Could Bill be right? What if all those names, that monument, could be erased?

  Leanor would know.

  They walked down the darkened sidewalk along the Mid River, drawing nearer to where the moon and cigarette butts illuminated drinkers at Suni’s. But instead of a single figure at the table they’d left, two people sat. One big, one small. Charlotte’s heart froze. “Who’s with Leanor?”

  But she got closer and realized that the small figure was a child, a small glass of passionfruit juice in front of his tan face. The other was slightly larger than Leanor, with dark brown skin, a buzzcut, and dressed in a lavender polo. “Felix. Charlie.” She exhaled, closing her eyes. Tonight was about them, too. Once she cleared it with Leanor, she could take them through time next. “Sorry if I kept you waiting. We got a little sidetracked.”

  Charlie looked up, his eyes bright and watchful like always. “We’ve been waiting five minutes,” he said, pointing to five ticks he’d made in crayon at the top of a new drawing. This one featured a lone table filled with glasses.

  She looked to Felix, whose dark features were drawn, pinched and angry. “It’s fine, Charlotte,” her husband claimed. But his eyes wouldn’t meet hers.

  Charlotte knelt beside Charlie, squeezed him with one arm, and kissed his curly black hair. “I’m sorry honey.” He set down his crayon and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek.

  “Daddy got me passionfruit juice,” he said, and turned back to his drawing, perfecting the sky with his dark blue crayon.

  “So I see.” She turned to Felix, placed a hand on his coarse-haired arm. “I really am sorry,” she told him. They hadn’t embraced in a long time. Her time at work had done more than simply freeze their relationship. “Monroe and I were checking something else.”

  “And Bill, I see.” He shifted his arm out from under her hand and held his out to Bill. “Nice to see you again.”

  Bill took the hand, his skin shining like a ghost’s in the moonlight. He gave Charlotte a confused glance.

  “Where’s Leanor?” Charlotte asked. “Getting another drink?” Her water glass was missing, but Monroe’s, Bill’s, and Charlotte’s mugs and cocktail glasses all remained. Charlotte’s beer had finally defrosted.

  Felix sat back down, frowning. Now he met Charlotte’s gaze, his dark eyebrows knit low in confusion. “Leanor? Who’s that? Another friend?”

  “Leanor?” He knew who Leanor was. The woman he accused of stealing Charlotte away. The woman he said would understand if Charlotte took a night, a weekend, off. The woman he blamed for Charlotte’s year-long absence. “Y’know, my boss?”

  “Your boss?” Felix’s freckled brown face crinkled upward, then his eyes lit up. “Oh! That Leanor. Your benefactor.”

  “My what? No.” Charlotte shook her head, even as butterflies fluttered inside. A voice inside whispered, Something’s gone horribly wrong. “Leanor’s the woman I’ve been working with for the past three years. On the astrolabe. Remember?”

  “She is?” Felix lifted his hands. “You never told me about her. I thought you’d never met her. Your benefactor, I mean. I could’ve sworn her name was Leanor, too.”

  “That’s …” Charlotte couldn’t finish. She looked to Monroe who lifted his hands, then to Bill. And Bill’s words came back.

  Time is malleable.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LEANOR

  JUNE 23, 2023

  Felix folded his arms before him, his chest bulging out. Not quite menacing to Charlotte; she’d seen him build those muscles. Beside him, Charlie watched with an open, curious face. His crayon hung in mid-air.

  How could she explain this to them? Something had happened. Something was happening. Somewhere in time, Leanor had been erased. Would Charlotte be next, the astrolabe vanishing from her bag and memory? If Felix didn’t remember Leanor, then anything could happen.

  Her instincts told her to send them away. Once she solved this oddity, she’d come home. She’d fix things then. But that’s what tonight was supposed to be about. And if—since—time was malleable, how could she leave Felix and Charlie behind? She could return to a world where Felix never knew her. Where Charlie never existed.

  How could she even consider that risk?

  “Come on,” Charlotte said, attempting a smile. “We need to go investigate something.”

  Monroe and Bill gave her brief nods. Charlie slipped his crayons into a pocket and leaped from his chair. But Felix remained seated, his gaze fixed on Charlie’s drawing. Five glasses, two filled, three nearly empty. His dark eyes flicked to the drinks Charlie had captured. “You already showed him, didn’t you?” He turned to Charlotte, to Monroe and Bill standing behind her. “Bill, too?”

  Now Charlotte saw the crossed arms for what they were. Not intimidation, but defense. It was written all over him: his thick lower lip bitten, his head dropped low. Just as she’d done this past year, she’d left him out.

  Charlotte felt like here insides were scooped out. Displayed in front of everyone. She could practically feel everyone nearby watching, sneering at her. How could she choose her brother over her husband?

  She’d had good reasons, hadn’t she?

  She couldn’t remember.

  Gulping, touching Felix’s shoulder, Charlotte said, “I’m sorry.” He met her eyes, his eyebrows high, entreating. Desperate to forgive her. “I’m sorry, Felix. I should’ve … It’s …” Monroe loved history. Bill obviously knew time travel better than even she did. Felix was a graphic designer, a dad, and that was about it. “I’m sorry. C’mon, I’ll explain everything.”

  He sighed, his lower lip moving with whatever response he was keeping in. “Okay,” he said. “That’s what tonight is, right?” He stood, not quite matching Charlotte’s height, and took her hand, his fingers locked together instead of pushed through hers.

  “Let’s go to the lab. I want to see what happened.”

  Monroe nodded and leaned down to her little boy. “C’mon Charlie.” But the boy looked back to Charlotte, his face squished to one side in concern. Once she nodded, his face relaxed, and he let Monroe and Bill lead him away.

  “‘What happened,’” Felix repeated as they followed. “What do you mean? You told Charlie we were going somewhere special. He’s been to your lab dozens of times. Whenever I needed a break.”

  She gulped. This world had changed so much, but that hadn’t. Felix was still Charlie’s main caretaker, she the occasional nanny. Too busy with her work before, and in this new world, this timeline or whatever, she was probably busier. Without Leanor, she would’ve had to do everything alone.

  Charlotte felt hollow as she whispered once more, “I’m sorry. Not just for tonight, but for the past year. However long it’s been.”

  “Three years,” Felix said, his voice brittle, about to snap. He released her hand and turned to face her like an immovable boulder. “You know it’s been three years.”

  Three years? Charlotte had to work hard to keep from stepping back. Already she’d given away too much to Felix. How could it be three years? But as she thought it through, three years made sense. In a world without Leanor, she would’ve figured out what the astrolabe did faster, worked harder to perfect it. Three years of pushing Felix and Charlie away? How had they ever put up with that?

  And yet, despite that massive shift, she was still revealing tonight? God, was time malleable or self-correcting?

  “It’s …” She searched his angry eyes. She couldn’t tell him; he wouldn’t believe her. And she couldn’t show him. Not yet. Not without Charlie, Monroe, and Bill beside her, safe from any further changes. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Then what was the plan for tonight?”

  She opened her mouth, but no response came out.

>   Felix shook his head, bitterness on his lips. “I thought tonight was about honesty, Charlotte. About clearing up this fucking mess. Not more half answers. Not more hedging and dodging. Not more deciding how much you can trust me. And you trusted him, first, of course.” Felix flung out a hand toward Monroe.

  Thankfully, they were far enough away not to hear.

  “You don’t understand, Felix.”

  “Because I never do. Because I’m never smart enough.” But as he crossed his arms and widened his stance, Charlotte had dêjà vu. They’d had this fight before. She’d lost that one, just as surely as she’d lose this. “Or is it that I’m not as clever as Monroe? Or that I’m not whatever it is that earned Bill a spot before me?”

  Charlotte gritted her teeth. “Monroe brought Bill along.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “And who invited Monroe?”

  Charlotte couldn’t answer that.

  “Exactly.” With a sneer, Felix shook his head. “Tell you what. You keep on hanging out with Monroe and Bill. Share whatever secrets, have whatever fun you had before you came back to the table expecting Leanor instead of Charlie and me.” He strode off, his muscled back tight, his arms clenched into fists.

  He knelt beside Charlie, took his hand, and—with one final concerned look from Charlie—they walked away.

  Once, she’d been alongside them. Holding Charlie’s hand—the skin always so soft even after he ceased to be a toddler. Listening to both Charlie and Felix’s observations of the world around them. Adding some technical oddities when they came up—Charlie always loved that. They’d travel together, always together.

  Now, all she could do was watch their silhouettes disappear into the night.

  They weren’t safe here. It didn’t seem like anyone was safe anymore. But Charlotte couldn’t unfreeze herself. She couldn’t imagine the words that would bring Felix back.

  If she’d shown him what the astrolabe could do, would it change his mind? Or would he—realizing that Leanor had been snatched from history after a single talk—forbid them from ever traveling again? How could he care about Leanor, a woman that now he’d never met? Never hated at least, but never met.