What if she could take it all back?
What is the harm, Mikola had said, in simply looking into the mirrors and asking that they take you where you wish to go?
Just like Peabody and Sherman. Her own personal wayback machine.
Was it possible?
Could it be done?
She was, after all, Chavi Zala, the gypsy witch, one of the most powerful chovihanis the Zala family had ever seen.
All she had to do, Madam Zala had told her, was look beyond her reflection, and when she ceased to see herself, she’d see the world, all the way back to its beginning, and forward, to eternity.
And suddenly Anna knew where she needed to go. What moment in time. The only moment where she knew he was certain to be, a part of the past that could be replayed and retooled, and would change everything that came after.
Getting to her feet, she shuffled over to Evan, crouching beside him, putting her arms around him.
“It’ll be all right, hon. Everything’s gonna be all right. You hear the sirens?”
Evan wiped his face, nodded.
“They’re coming to help you,” Anna said. “To take you away from here. But I can’t go with you. I have to go back inside.”
“No,” Evan whimpered, grabbing hold of her arms. “Don’t go.”
“I have to, dear. But I promise, I’m going to make it better. Everything will be better. All your hurt will go away forever.”
“No,” Evan cried, clinging to her, but she pried herself loose and stood.
“I’ll make it better,” she said. “You’ll see.”
And then she turned, shuffling back toward the entrance to the building.
Back toward the magic mirror maze.
Back into the past.
4 8
Jillian Carpenter moved down the street, approaching the Rambler parked just outside of Carl’s Liquor Store.
“What are you doing?” Suzie Oliver asked, sounding a little nervous.
“I wanna look inside,” she said.
“What?” Suzie sounded alarmed now.
“Just a quick look,” Jillian said. “I’m not gonna get in or anything.”
“What if somebody catches you?”
“I’ll tell him we thought it was your uncle’s car.”
Moving up to the driver’s window, Jillian peered inside, cupping her hands for a better view, then crouching down a little to look at the locket dangling from the rearview mirror.
Then Jillian moved to the Rambler’s rear passenger window, staring into the back, before something on the rear windshield caught her attention.
A parking sticker.
“Come on, Jillian, let’s go,” Suzie said. “Somebody’s gonna come.”
Jillian turned, looking at her friend, then headed back and grabbed Suzie’s hand.
“Race you home,” she said, then they broke away from each other and ran.
As they tore past Carl’s, Mikola Zala stepped out of the liquor store, and watched them intently. Taking a last drag off of his cigarette, he tossed it aside and crossed to the Rambler, quickly unlocking it and climbing inside.
This was Anna’s cue to move.
Opening the Honda Civic’s door-the Honda Civic she’d stolen from the Big Mountain parking lot-she got out and crossed the street toward the Rambler.
“Excuse me,” she said, waving her hand at Mikola.
He started the engine, paying her no attention.
“Excuse me,” she said again, and he turned, scowling at her, rolling down his window.
Anna knew she must’ve been a sight, with her wounded shoulder and the gash in her cheek.
But Mikola didn’t seem to notice. “What do you want, woman?”
“You don’t remember me, Mikola?”
He looked surprised. “How do you know my…”
Then the surprise turned to recognition as he looked into her eyes.
“Chavi?”
“That’s right, motherfucker.”
Anna raised her Glock, touching it to his chest. Before he could react, she said, “ Mine.”
Then she pulled the trigger.
PART FOUR
4 9
On APRIL 14, 1981, Anna Elizabeth McBride ceased to exist. There are no records of her birth to be found.
Two weeks later, the girl who carried Anna’s soul celebrated her eleventh birthday at the Big Mountain amusement park, with her mother, Delilah, her stepfather, Craig, and her best friend, Suzie Oliver.
Later that night, as a special surprise birthday present, Craig gave Jillian a puppy, which she promptly named Stinky, Jr.
During a poker game, at approximately 2:00 a.m. on November 16, 2007, Oasis Hotel-Casino owner and reputed organized crime figure Anderson Troy bit into a slice of pepperoni and onion pizza and began to gag.
When those around him failed to administer the Heimlich maneuver, he promptly choked to death.
Three weeks later, Troy’s loyal manservant, Arturo Medina, was arrested for the murder of the hotel chef who had prepared Troy’s pizza.
An undercover investigation into Troy’s illegal activities was promptly abandoned.
On May 12, 2009, Evan Fairweather and his little sister, Kimberly, attended the wedding of their mother, Rita, who married a visiting certified public accountant named Hans Crawford, whom she had met at the bar where she worked three nights a week.
The family moved away from Ludlow to Santa Barbara, California, where Crawford lived on an acre of land. Crawford later filed papers to adopt the children, both of whom took his name.
The children’s biological father never attempted to find them and his whereabouts are currently unknown.
5 0
Jillian Carpenter was sitting on a bench in the middle of the Midstreet Mall in Northern Las Vegas when she saw her.
“Oh, my god,” she said, getting to her feet. “Suzie? Suzie Oliver?”
The woman, who was standing outside of Kern’s Drug Store, turned, a startled look on her face.
Then her eyes registered recognition. “Jillian?”
Within seconds, the two women were hugging each other, Jillian having a bit of trouble, because of the beach ball attached to her abdomen.
She was seven months pregnant.
“This is unbelievable,” Suzie said. “How long has it been?”
“Since freshman year in high school. I’ll never forgive you for moving away.”
“Oh, god, remember that last night, when we were both crying like crazy?”
Jillian nodded. “I think my mom had to go out and buy more Kleenex.”
They laughed; then Suzie looked down at Jillian’s belly. “How many months?”
“Seven,” Jillian said. “I’m way too old to be doing this, but it was now or never.”
“Congratulations.”
“What about you? Do you have any kids?”
Suzie smiled, digging into her purse. “Uh-oh, out come the pictures.”
She brought out her cell phone, flicked a button, and showed the screen to Jillian. Two attractive teens stared up at her. “James and Lisa. Thirteen and sixteen.”
“They’re gorgeous,” Jillian said.
“Fortunately, they look just like their father.”
“Oh, stop it. You’re as beautiful as ever.”
Suzie laughed and shook her head. “God, I’ve missed you, Jills. I think about you all the time.”
“Me, too,” Jillian said, feeling a hitch in her throat. “Oh, crap, I think I’m gonna cry.”
“That’s just the hormones.”
“No kidding. I’ve got ’em to spare.”
They laughed again, and a voice rang out behind them.
“ There you are. We’ve been looking all over for you.”
Jillian turned.
“Oh, good,” she said, “you’re just in time. I want you to meet my best friend in the whole world, Susan Leah Oliver.”
“Fenton,” Suzie corrected. “I left the name Oliver behind a long time ago.”
“Well, Susan Fenton, this is my husband, Danny, his cousin Jake, and Jake’s wife, Ronnie.”
They all shook hands, then Susan frowned. “This is gonna sound strange, but I think we went to high school together. You’re Danny Pope, right?”