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Braxton shrugs, takes a sip of his wine, but I can see the ghost of a grin behind the glass.
“And yet, there must be more to it?” I search Braxton’s face, but he’s fully committed to avoiding my gaze. “Because it’s a lot of trouble to go to with no guarantee it’ll work. I mean, failure happens. It’s unavoidable. And it’s not like Arthur’s psychic or can see into the future and know how things will…”
My voice fades as my mind reels back in time to earlier today, when Einstein and Stephen Hawking taught me about the fourth dimension.
The two of them patiently explaining, in layman’s terms, that the fourth dimension is one of time and space, and that all one needs to do is create a tunnel through that fourth dimension and the result is time travel.
And that tunnel is also known as a wormhole.
While I found it fascinating in theory, I was sure that’s all it was—a high-minded theory floated before me in the world’s strangest hands-on science class.
But now I’m no longer sure. I mean, that can’t be what’s happening here at Gray Wolf—can it?
And if so, is it somehow connected to the girl I watched disappear, then reappear from my window this morning?
Was that more than just the Unraveling?
