“I can’t travel three people at once,” I cry. “I struggle with two.”
Parker’s eyes meet mine. “Try, Rose. You can do this. Focus.”
I take a deep breath and kneel beside him, placing one hand on his shoulder. Taking Ella’s cold fingers in my other hand, I focus every part of my being into holding them in this moment with me. Sweat breaks out across my brow, yet slowly, they reappear.
“How long can you hold it for?” Parker asks.
Pain rips through my head. “Not long.” I gasp. “A minute at most.”
Parker lays Ella’s future self down on the grass and kisses her on the cheek. My head pounds in warning, and their bodies fade.
“I need to let her go,” I say.
With silent tears streaming down his face, he unfastens her heart-shaped necklace and tucks it into his pocket. “Goodbye,” he says, his voice breaking.
I place her hands over her still chest and let go. “Goodbye,” I whisper, and she disappears.
“Take my watch off,” I say, holding out my hand. The other still clings to Parker’s shoulder. “It could be a way for them to track us.”
Parker removes the black smartwatches Neurovida gave us in silence, any trace of emotion leached from his face. I keep my concentration on him, placing my free hand on his other shoulder. “Are you ready?”
I push through the pain, waiting until Parker’s bloodshot, empty eyes reach mine. He nods, and we disappear.
I return to my body, resting on my bed, and drop my head into my hands.
The bed dips beside me. “It’s okay, Rose,” Parker says, wrapping his arms around me, and for once I let him hold me.
Parker hoped reliving Ella’s last moments might provide insight. Details we’d missed, like what happened to the other Alphas or why Matthews betrayed us. None of those questions were answered. Reliving my past has only highlighted the lack of time I’ve had to process her death. We’ve been running from the moment we left Neurovida, focused on saving Parker’s life and what comes next.
I piece myself together and pull away from Parker. “No, it’s not okay. She’s gone. Nothing we do will change that. It’s hopeless.”
He sits beside me. “I don’t think it is,” he says, his voice lifting.
“What do you mean?” I ask, wiping my nose on my sleeve.
“Did Ella’s future self ever tell you she broke her wrist before Neurovida?”
“Yeah of course. It hurt her all the time. Especially during fights.”
“Andafterwe stole McGregor’s journal and yourmemories split? Did you lose or gain any memories involving her wrist?” Parker asks.
“I don’t think so?” I filter through my hazy, split memories. “No. Why?”
Parker runs a tense hand through his hair. “When Ella bandaged my chest, I noticed a scar on her left wrist.”
“Okay,” I state. “That’s nothing new.”
“But what if it is?” He stands from the bed and paces, something I’veneverseen him do. “Because before that day, I thought I’d never noticed it before, or it was hidden beneath her watch,” he says. “So tell me why, in my memory of her death, there’s no scar on either wrist.”
“I’m not following Parker.”
“Why do you have memories of her with a sore wrist at Neurovida and I don’t?” He strides toward me. “Don’t you get it? Something changed in Ella’s past,beforewe showed up, and it’s only alteredyourmemories, not mine.”
“Because you haven’t been back to our time since you regained your powers. Your memories haven’t split yet.”
“But neither have yours,” Parker says.
“I—” I go to argue and slam my mouth shut. If something changed in her past, and it involved her wrist, I would have gained new memories, in addition to my existing ones, but I haven’t. And those memories would be split. Blurred together. I wouldn’t know which were real. But my memories surrounding Ella’s broken wrist remain intact. “How is that possible?”
