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For half a second, I felt the strangest sensation. It was like I’d lived this moment before—the noise, the animal, a sense of fright overwhelming us both.
That was ridiculous though.
The creature was a weasel, not a reptile, and I had seen it writhing around when we’d packed the car last night, and never before. I was so asleep, I’d forgotten where I was and what was beside me. I shouldn’t have, given all of the strange noises Miso the weasel had made while I’d dozed.
Miso stuck her paw through the hole where my finger had been, her claws curling and catching on the wire.
“You two doing all right back there?” Morgan turned around in her seat, looking from me to the weasel, and back again.
“Peachy,” I said.
We’d spent the night packing up Morgan and Layana’s belongings and piling them into Layana’s car before taking off toward an unknown future.
I never should have gotten into the car with them.
I never should have left the hospital with Morgan.
“We’re almost there,” Layana said.
“Almost where?” I asked.
“To the studio,” Morgan said. “We have to sign paperwork for the show. They promised to set us up with hotel rooms starting tonight.”
It was good she’d have a place to stay.
“So freaking exciting,” Layana drummed her hands on the wheel.
“Yep.” Morgan gave me a tight smile, clearly not sharing her friend’s enthusiasm.
It was unfortunate for Morgan that she was being forced to accept work she didn’t want to maintain a roof over her head. That was what life was—a series of events dumped on your shoulders, and it was up to you to navigate that weight: survive, thrive, or crumble. In this particular scenario, that weight was Morgan’s own doing.
Of course none of this had anything to do with me.
“Maybe returning to the scene of the crime will spark a memory for you, Tristan,” Layana said.
“Don’t call it a crime,” Morgan said, her tone harsh. A blush crossed her cheeks as she turned to me and said, “It was an accident. Layana’s not wrong, though. Maybe you’ll see something familiar and remember where you were doing your crossing guard duty, Tristan.”
A big part of me hoped they were right and I found out who I was, so I could return to my own life and leave the bizarre last day and a half in the past. But I would have to be careful not to put myself in a compromised position in case my initial feelings of being a spy were correct.
At any moment, without even realizing it, I could be stepping into a trap. Especially at the site of my…accident.
“We’re here.” Layana pulled into a lot behind a tall building and parked. “Lacuna Television Network. I can’t believe this is actually happening.”
I stared up at the building’s massive form—thirty-four stories tall based on my count of the windows. It appeared to have been constructed in the late eighteen hundreds. Ornate details trimmed the brick building’s facade, including cream stone trims and lion gargoyles, weathered but well maintained. The size of the structure wouldn’t be possible through brick laying alone, but would require significant concrete and steel reinforcement.
Wait a minute. Why did I know that?
I felt like I should recognize this place. I felt like I should feel something other than a twist of uncertainty in my gut and a twang of confusion over my architectural acumen. I didn’t.
Why had I come here before?
Morgan turned to me. “You can come upstairs with us, if you want. Then we can look around together after.”
Her smile was sweet, her intention kind. It made my gut twist tighter.
“I’ll meet you back here,” I said.
“Suit yourself.” Layana climbed out and slammed her door shut.
