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“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Ben replies. “Can you finish your blog post here? You need to get here as soon as you can.”

“Already missing me?” We hung out at Ben’s parents’ house the night before.

“Of course.” But when his tone softens a touch, I recognize that it was strained before. “Can you hurry?”

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

Ben sighs, frustration evident in it. “It’d be easier for you to see than for me to explain. It’s important.”

“O-kay … I’ll be on my way in a minute.” I stare at my phone, miffed and worried. Ben never talks to me like that. What’s going on?

The entire twenty-minute drive up to The Villa is nerve-racking, especially since no reason for Ben’s abruptness occurs to me. Nothing. All I can do is analyze the strain and frustration. Uselessly analyze.

He probably sees my car pull up the long, circular driveway before heading into the garage. He holds the door of the condo open for me when I walk down the hall.

“What’s going on?” I demand.

He still doesn’t say anything, shutting the door behind me and placing a hand on my back to guide me toward the sitting area of the apartment, where two men in dark suits stand to greet me.

“Ask them,” he says tightly. “They wouldn’t tell me anything until you got here.”

The smell of Italian food wafts across my nose. I glance at the kitchen, noting that Ben is in the middle of making dinner. “What’s going on?” I address the unfamiliar men.

The taller, skinny one speaks. “As we introduced ourselves to Mr. Mitchell, I’m Dr. Cooper and this is Agent Burke. We’re with the FBI.” He holds out his hand.

I take it cautiously. “FBI?” I repeat, surprised. I raise an eyebrow and glance at the tall, bulky one. Burke has an ex-SEAL look to him that’s intimidating, to say the least. “A doctor at the FBI?”

“Why don’t you sit down and I’ll explain?” Dr. Cooper invites with a chuckle, motioning to the empty loveseat opposite him and his much-younger-looking partner.

“It would be about time,” Ben says impatiently. He puts his arm over the back of the couch behind me as if protecting me from them.

“It’s about your time-traveling,” Dr. Cooper says.

My mouth drops. Ben stiffens beside me. “I was in LA,” he says, but even I hear the ring of uncertainty in it.

Dr. Cooper doesn’t bother with his denial. “We’re from an FBI-led task force that monitors and…” He pauses, squinting as he searches for words. “…regulates time travel through the mirrors.”

“You know about the mirrors?” I gasp, leaning forward.

“Yes,” Dr. Cooper replies. “I studied the energy spikes time-traveling causes for several years at the NSA before joining the FBI task force. It’s absolutely fascinating how many instances have happened here, at The Villa, over the last decade⁠—”

“Coop,” Burke interrupts. “Let’s stay on point.”

“Pardon me,” Dr. Cooper says with a self-deprecating smile. “The task force combined the two things I love—the study of energy systems and my passion for history.” He shrugs, turning toward Burke.

“We sent an operative after the two of you, but something went wrong. You’re here and he’s not,” Burke says.

Silence settles over us for several seconds before Ben breaks it, his jaw tense. “I was there for two years, and you just barely sent someone?”

“Until recently, we could only monitor the energy and make guesses,” Dr. Cooper rushes to explain. “It took some time to confirm that your disappearance was indeed connected to the energy spike I recorded here—it was rather low, you see, on the spectrum of these things. I’d venture a guess that it was latent traveling energy of⁠—”

“Coop,” Burke snaps again. He huffs out a sigh. “We had no one to send after you,” he says. “Until about four months ago when Gibbons joined our team. And then it was a lot of red tape delaying the authorization of a mission to rescue you. Obviously, the FBI is particular about who can travel through time and for what reasons. A lot can go wrong by even just being in the wrong place.” He glares at both Ben and me as though we did it on purpose.

I’m grateful that Dr. Cooper jumps in. “Besides that, our operative can’t travel at will the way Miss Granville can—at least, I assume that it is Miss Granville who can, based on the respective reports of your disappearances and the fact that you returned within three days of her going through—” This time Burke simply clears his throat to stop Dr. Cooper’s rambling.

“I can’t travel at will.” I shake my head. “As you said, it took me three days to bring us back.”

“For our agent, it can sometimes take weeks to build the energy back up to travel.” Dr. Cooper pulls a small, square mirror just bigger than his hand from a bag at the side of the couch and holds it toward me. Along the bottom edge is a narrow LCD screen. “Oblige me?”