“But”—I shifted from foot to foot, my limbs burning with adrenaline—“you just got mugged.”
“Yeah, by myself,” Yejun said with a forced smile. “So I must have had a good reason for it. And at least I know I’ll get my bag back eventually. I wish he’d done it tomorrow, though. My laptop was in there, with my only copy of my English essay.”
I sat down slowly. “Are you…” My question faded at the end when I realized it sounded precariously close to concern. I swallowed it down and backpedaled. “How can rogues have Echoes anyway?” I said, crossing my arms.
Yejun raised an eyebrow. “Any descendant can have Echoes,” he said.
I shook my head. “But you’re not getting correction missions from the timeline architects.”
“Yeah, so it must be an organic Echo,” Yejun said, shrugging. “Sometime in the future, I’ll go back and do that of my own volition. God knows why.”
Organic Echo?I thought. I’d never heard of that, probably because I wasn’t allowed to just pop back in time on my own yet. Could the Echo that had poured banana milk on my shoes have been organic too? But I couldn’t think of a single reason why I would go back in time to do something like that to myself.
“It doesn’t matter,” Yejun said, sitting up straight. “My wallet was in my back pocket, so I just lost my laptop and a couple chewed pencils. More importantly…” He pushed the takeout bag toward me and grinned expectantly.
I uncrossed my arms, tentatively opening the box. Strawberry cheesecake. Of course.
“Exactly how much cheesecake do you think I eat?” I said, my face warm.
Yejun shrugged. “Is there something you’d prefer over cheesecake?”
“Passing calculus.”
“They don’t sell that at CU,” he said. “But they do havethis.” He reached into his jacket pocket, then plopped an open bag of candy corn on the table. “We did it,” he said. “We brought this monstrosity to Korea.”
I stared at the bag, a strange lightness filling my chest. It was weird to see such an American candy with Korean words on the package, but there it was, in all its neon glory.
Somehow, I’d thought I would feel the timeline shift when we pulled the first anchor. I’d hoped that memories of Hana would start to come back to me slowly as the timeline carried us closer together, like rivers converging as they neared the sea. But it was a day just like any other day, except today there was candy corn.
“Monstrosity?” I said, as I processed his words.
“Oh yeah, it’s awful,” Yejun said. “Have you tried this? We’ve unleashed chaos on the world.”
“I lived in America, of course I’ve tried it,” I said, snatching the bag off the table. “And if you don’t appreciate it, I’ll eat it.”
“Be my guest,” Yejun said. Then he paused and frowned at me. I didn’t understand why he was looking at me so intently, until he spoke. “Did you dye your hair?”
I tucked the white lock of hair behind my ear. “There was an incident with the timeline,” I said under my breath, checking to make sure the barista wasn’t standing too close.
Yejun sat up straight. “Are you okay?”
“I almost got bleached out of existence, but I seem to be fine,” I said, shrugging. “I’m more worried about the timeline collapsing.”
“Why would the timeline collapse?” Yejun said, reeling back.
I explained to him what Hyebin had told me in her office, and his expression sank into a frown.
“Do you think it’s because of us?” I whispered.
“I don’t see how it could be,” Yejun said, glaring at my cheesecake like it was singularly responsible for the paradox. “Every change we’re making is the exact opposite of something that’s already been done. That could only undo prior adjustments, not tear a hole in the timeline. Besides, I ran every scenario multiple times. We’re not doing anything even remotely dangerous to the integrity of the timeline. The worst we could possibly do is accidentally cause fire-bellied toads to have nineteen toes instead of eighteen.”
“Fire-bellied…” I shook my head. That didn’t matter right now. “So if it’s not because of us, then why is the timeline decaying?”
“I don’t know,” Yejun said, slumping back in his chair. “Maybe the timeline is resisting major change? Or maybe someone dropped their cell phone in the wrong time period and it has nothing to do with us at all.”
Sunlight flashed off the window of a passing car, and I flinched at the memory of the horizon peeling itself open to bright white. The present had always felt solid beneath my feet, but now I imagined the earth falling open like a trapdoor beneath me.
“Did Hyebin seem worried?” Yejun said.
