For an instant, Katherine sounded just like their mother, making Jonah’s heart ache a little. It was entirely possible that, because of Andrea, he and Katherine would never see their parents again. But Katherine-sounding-like-Mom also made Jonah feel ashamed. He wasn’t usually the kind of kid who made people cry. And the way Andrea looked so fragile and sad had made him want to help her so much-which made him feel even more stupid, now that he knew she’d double-crossed them…
How could he feel so many different things all at once?
Jonah let out a deep sigh.
“Look,” he told Katherine, pointing to the pouch on Dare’s collar. “This is perfectly secure. There was no reason for Andrea to take the Elucidator out. She must have been planning to get rid of it the whole time. And that’s why she’s been acting weird ever since we got here.” He remembered her silent crying, her hesitation to shake JB’s hand, her insistence that they go back in time without getting debriefed. “Really, ever since we met her.”
Katherine reached down to examine the pouch on the dog’s collar for herself. She pulled it this way and that, tugging on it with every bit as much force as Jonah had used. Dare whined a little-this couldn’t be comfortable for him-and Katherine let go.
“Andrea?” she said doubtfully.
Andrea took a huge breath, one that threatened to turn into just another sob. But then she grimaced, clearly struggling to hold back the tears.
“I didn’t mean to lose the Elucidator,” she said in a small voice. “Honest. That was a mistake. But-”
“But what?” Jonah asked. He meant his voice to come out sounding cold and hard and self-righteous, like a prosecuting attorney on a TV show. But some of his other, confused emotions slipped into his voice instead.
He mostly sounded sympathetic.
Andrea sniffled. She leaned back against the fallen fence and drew her knees up to her chest, hugging them close with her arms.
“The man came to my house last night,” she said. “Er-the last night before we left. I don’t know his name. I don’t know who he was working for. I don’t think he would have told me the truth if I’d asked. I knew he was from the future. It looked like he walked right out of the wall. And he knew… too much. About me.”
“So, what, he blackmailed you?” Katherine asked. “What had you done-murdered somebody?”
Jonah could tell Katherine was just trying to make a joke, to lighten the mood. But this was evidently the wrong thing to say. Sorrow spread across Andrea’s face, and Jonah thought she was going to fall apart again. Then, just like before, a sort of mask seemed to slide over her entire expression, hiding her emotions. But it didn’t happen so instantaneously this time, or so completely. Jonah felt like he could still see cracks, broken places that didn’t heal.
“Nobody blackmailed me,” Andrea said. “At least, not blackmail like in the movies, where it’s all about money. He didn’t even ask for anything in exchange.”
“In exchange for what?” Jonah asked. “What are you talking about?” He could feel the dread creeping over him. Hairs stood up on the back of his neck; goosebumps rose on his arms. Whatever Andrea was about to say, it was going to be awful.
Andrea didn’t answer his question.
“I know I was probably being stupid, all right?” she said. “I knew I shouldn’t trust the man. But don’t you see? If there was any chance at all, I had to try!”
“Try what?” Jonah and Katherine asked together, the words spilling out almost completely in sync.
Andrea looked up at them and blinked back tears.
“I had to try to save my parents.”
Now Jonah was even more confused.
“You mean, Mistress Dare and-what would it be?-Master Dare?” he asked.
“No, no, my real parents. The ones I knew.” Andrea seemed annoyed that Jonah didn’t understand. “Back in our time. In the twenty-first century.”
Jonah saw the real problem: Andrea didn’t understand time travel.
“Andrea, you don’t have to worry about your parents,” he said. He almost chuckled, but stopped himself. He didn’t want to embarrass her for not understanding. “They’re fine-they’re just waiting for us back home in the twenty-first century. All we have to do is get you out of history-the right way, this time-and then you can go home and see them again. Honest.”
Jonah spoke with the same soothing tone he’d used with homesick Cub Scouts when he’d worked as a counselor-in-training at camp. Really, if Andrea had been so confused all along, why hadn’t she just asked before?
Andrea shook her head.
“No, Jonah,” she corrected him. “My parents aren’t waiting for me back in the twenty-first century.”
“Of course they are,” Jonah argued. “And the great thing is, because you’ll get back just a split second after you left, they won’t even know you were gone.”
“Don’t you get it?” Andrea said. She didn’t sound annoyed anymore. The sorrow in her voice crowded out everything else. “Back in the twenty-first century, my parents are dead.”
9
Jonah and Katherine both stared at Andrea, their jaws dropped. That wasn’t a possibility Jonah would have thought of. It was too awful.
“It was a car crash,” Andrea said. “Last year.”
She sounded tougher now, brusque, as if she’d learned how to mask her voice as well as her facial expressions.
“I’m-,” Katherine began.
“Don’t say you’re sorry. Don’t say you can imagine just how that would feel,” Andrea said. “You can’t.”
Jonah was trying to imagine it anyway. What would it be like to lose both your mom and dad? At the same time?
“You mean, your adoptive parents?” he asked cautiously. “The ones who got you after the time crash?”
He was hoping he’d misunderstood somehow.
“Yes, my adoptive parents,” Andrea said impatiently. “I said my real ones, didn’t I?”
Jonah kept trying to get his head around the thought of someone losing two sets of parents by the time she’d turned thirteen. Katherine sniffed, like she might start crying on Andrea’s behalf.
“I don’t like telling people,” Andrea said. “I usually won’t. Because then they start acting like this.” She waved her hand vaguely at Jonah and Katherine. Jonah tried to sit up a little straighter and look normal. It wasn’t easy.
“But you told us because… because it’s connected to something that man told you?” Katherine said, her voice full of bafflement. “Something… about the Elucidator?”
Andrea nodded.
“He promised,” she whispered. “He said I could go back. He said I could stop…”
Andrea waited, as if she expected Jonah and Katherine to figure everything out. But Jonah couldn’t think at all while he was watching the pain play over Andrea’s face.
“He said you could stop…,” Katherine prompted. Then she gasped. “Oh, oh-I get it.” Now her words came in a rush. “That man, what he told you-he said you could go back just a year in time, right? So you thought you could stop your parents from being in that crash. You thought you could save their lives!”
Andrea looked down at the ground.
“He said all I had to do was reprogram the Elucidator,” she murmured.
Jonah felt the anger wash over him again.
“Couldn’t you tell the man was lying?” he growled. “Time doesn’t work that way. You can’t go back to a time period you’ve already lived through. You know that! Didn’t you hear anyone talking about the ‘paradox of the doubles’? Or-didn’t you think about what it meant that we’d been living in Damaged Time? Like Katherine was talking about before?” Jonah realized that Andrea had probably been too far ahead to hear anything when he and Katherine were talking about Damaged Time. He just leaned in closer, nearly yelling at her now. “No time travelers could get in for almost thirteen years! Practically our entire lives!”