Timebound

24

I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of a computer monitor a second before Connor even realized I’d arrived, so I fully understood his look of shock. The entire right side of my neck was bandaged. There were two red patches just above the hairline. Several other red marks dotted my shoulders and there were even a few holes in the petticoat.

Connor stared at me for a moment and then his lower lip began to quiver. I couldn’t tell if he was about to laugh or cry and I’m not sure that he could tell, either.

“We simply can’t send you out to play in nice clothes, can we, Kate?” he said finally. “What on earth happened to you? Are you—”

Whatever else he was going to say was drowned out by a crazed volley of barking from downstairs, followed by the sound of the doorbell.

“You,” he said, pointing. “Do not move.”

I knew it was Katherine before Connor reached the door. That wasn’t Daphne’s stranger bark. It was her welcome-home bark, the one with a little “I missed you” whimper in the middle.

Katherine’s voice drifted up the stairs. “How did I end up in the yard without a CHRONOS key, Connor? Or a house key, for that matter?”

I lay back on the floor and closed my eyes.

The next thing I remember was waking up in my bed. The floral arrangement Trey had sent to Katherine was on my dresser. It seemed an eternity ago, and yet the flowers looked as fresh as when they’d first arrived. Daphne was curled up on the rug next to my bed and Katherine was sitting on the sofa near the window, reading what appeared to be a historical romance—the sort my mom sometimes referred to as a bodice-ripper or lusty-busty. It was the first time I’d seen Katherine reading anything that wasn’t on a computer screen or inside a CHRONOS diary.

She glanced over after a few minutes. “Oh, Kate. I’m glad to see you’re awake, dear. I was beginning to worry.”

“The little blue pills,” I said, my head still quite fuzzy. “In my bag. They’re… nice.”

“I see,” Katherine replied, a hint of a smile touching the edges of her mouth as she sat on the side of my bed. “And where did you get the nice little blue pills? Connor filled me in on the day before you left. I’ve told him what I now remember from our adventure at the Expo. But neither of us know what happened to you after I climbed out that window.”

My lips were very dry and I asked for a glass of water first. After a few sips, I put the glass back on the nightstand. “Kiernan,” I said. “He gave me the medicine. He got me out of the hotel.”

“But how?” she said. “He was a very bright little boy, but I don’t see how that hotel could possibly have been standing when he got back. All of the historical accounts that I read—”

“He was a remarkable little boy,” I interrupted. “And he’s a remarkable young man.”

I gave her a brief synopsis to fill in the missing pieces, having to pause repeatedly to keep my brain on track. It felt like I was reaching through fog to find phrases to string together, and they never came out quite the way I’d planned. I must have dozed off for a few minutes at some point, because when I opened my eyes, Katherine had returned to the couch and was again reading her book.

“Where was I?” I asked.

“You were explaining Kiernan’s plan—or was it your plan?—for repossessing CHRONOS keys, when you drifted off between words,” she said, setting the book aside on the sofa. “After what you’ve been through the past few days, I was a bit afraid you might decide that you were done with us. You’ve got your life back for the most part and Prudence seems to have given you at least a limited degree of—immunity, I guess. You could walk away, you know.”

The thought hadn’t really occurred to me, but now that she’d spoken the words aloud, I was surprised that it hadn’t. I could return to my life before Katherine showed up with the medallion. Mom was back, Dad was Dad again—

“Charlayne?” I asked.

Katherine looked confused for a moment and then shook her head. “I haven’t checked, but I’m pretty sure nothing has changed for her.”

I asked her to bring me the computer, and after a brief search I pulled up the same wedding photo, the Cyrist emblem clear and distinct against Charlayne’s dark skin. Saving Katherine had fixed my life, but whatever happened with Charlayne’s family was entirely separate.

I pushed the computer to the side and looked back at Katherine. “Connor’s kids? They’re still gone, right?”

She nodded.

“Then you’re wrong—I really don’t have a choice.” The truth was, even if no one I cared about was personally affected in this timeline, I knew that I could never just sit by and watch as the Cyrists drew more converts and moved closer to some sort of mass genocide. Walking away wasn’t an option.

“So—what about you?” I asked, shifting slightly in the bed. The medicine was fading, which was both good and bad—words were less slippery, but the pain was also returning. “Do you remember anything from the day after the shift… after Simon?”

“I remember holding out the medallion to that foul cretin. And Trey…” She stopped, giving me a sad smile before continuing. “Trey’s car had just pulled up. I didn’t see any choice other than to have faith. Faith that Trey would move any mountain he had to in order to save you from Simon. Faith that Connor would work his magic with the boundary. Faith that you would be able to fix this timeline. I’ve never been good at that—at giving up control to others—but it seems to have worked this time.”

“But you remember being in the hotel and running from Holmes… and everything that happened that night. Isn’t that… disconcerting? I mean, you have two sets of memories.”

“It is a rather odd feeling,” she said. “But all of that happened so long ago. I do remember wondering whose daughter you would be—Deborah’s or Prudence’s—when the two of them were small. My bet was on Prudence, given the resemblance, until she disappeared.”

Katherine fell silent for a moment and then asked, “Prudence wasn’t in on it, then? She was trying to save me?”

I debated lying to protect her feelings, but I knew it wouldn’t serve much purpose. “She was saving you in order to protect herself, Katherine. And maybe to protect Mom. It definitely wasn’t out of any sentimental ties to you, or to me, for that matter. I got the feeling she thinks you traded her off in some sort of a custody battle. But I do think she’ll keep them from going after you again—at least until she finds out I’m still trying to stop the Cyrists.”

Katherine bit her lip but nodded. “Which means we’re going to have to move very carefully this time.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

I was quiet for a moment, not sure how to broach the subject that was nibbling away at the back of my mind, but I finally just decided to tackle it head-on. “You handled it okay, didn’t you? Having two different sets of memories? So how can you be so sure that Trey wouldn’t have handled it, too?” I could hear the petulant tone in my voice and didn’t really like it, but it was hard not to feel a bit cheated.

“I can’t know anything for certain,” she admitted. “But Trey doesn’t have the CHRONOS gene. And with me, we’re not talking about recent memories. Even something as vivid as being trapped in a burning hotel with a serial killer hot on your heels fades after a while, so it’s not quite the same as two conflicting sets of memories. It’s more like reading an old diary and remembering things you’d forgotten you knew. Or remembering both the truth about an event and a lie you’ve told so many times to so many people that both versions seem equally real. Does that make sense?”

“No,” I admitted. “Not really. But I’ve kind of gotten used to things not making sense. I’ve decided the only way to stay sane is to just roll with the punches.”

“I’m afraid that reconciling the past month will be a more difficult task than reconciling the distant past. Connor and I have been talking about the best way to adjust our own little slice of the timeline. The only reasonable thing is to have you go back to the day of the time shift—otherwise, your mom and dad are going to be very worried.”

Mom. Dad. It felt unbelievably good to hear those words and be reminded that I was back in a world where I had parents again.

“You’ve been gone for over a month in this timeline, at least from their perspective, and this way, we can spare them that agony.” Katherine traced her fingers along the edge of my bandage. “I took a peek while you were asleep and applied a bit more of the hydrogel to the two spots on your scalp. The burn on your neck is pretty deep, but I don’t think the scar will be major after a few weeks. It would have been a very different situation if Kiernan hadn’t been prepared. So any ideas for a cover story that your parents might buy?”

I thought about it for a moment. “Maybe we could pass it off as an idiot with hot coffee on the Metro? I could tell Mom that I just had a cab bring me here, rather than trying to find Dad on campus. And you took me to an urgent care…?”

“If we give it another day or maybe two, to heal, I think that might be plausible,” she said. “And then, once you’re settled with them, I think it might be best if Connor and I made ourselves scarce for a few weeks—fewer points of overlap for you and for us. We’ll tell Harry and Deborah that there was a last-minute opening with an experimental drug trial in Europe.”

“I’m going to tell Dad everything, Katherine. I mean, he’ll be living here, so we’d be lying to him constantly. I’m not good at that, so we can tell Mom the cover story, but—”

I broke off suddenly. Her comment about a drug trial had finally reached my brain, and it reminded me of my conversation with Kiernan. “You’re cancer-free in the other timeline, Katherine. Kiernan was certain of it. Can you think of any reason why you’d be sick in one timeline but not in the other? I know that there are some environmental causes for cancer, but they don’t develop suddenly, do they? I thought something like that would take years to develop.”

“It should,” she agreed, looking a bit stunned. “The only time I was outside of the protection of a medallion after Prudence disappeared was during a hospital stay when they were doing a biopsy. I was adamant that I needed to keep it on me at all times—I told them it was a religious medal. But when I came to, the medallion had been placed in the plastic bag with my other belongings.”

She was silent for a moment and then shook her head as though to clear it. “Just one more thing to think about when Connor and I go on our little vacation, I guess. Do you think you could keep an eye on Daphne for us?”

Daphne thumped her tail once at the sound of her name and then went straight back to her nap. I laughed. “I don’t know, Katherine. She’s a real handful. Of course, we’ll watch her. Dad won’t mind staying here on the nights I’m with Mom. The kitchen might actually get some real use for a change.”

Just the mention of food started a rumble in my stomach. “Speaking of food… I’m starving. Is there anything to eat?”

“I saw half of a large deli sandwich, if that sounds okay?”

“Yes,” I said, thinking that Connor must have already raided the fridge at least once if all that was left from O’Malley’s was half a sandwich. “That sounds amazing. And chips. And a banana or anything else you can find. It’s been at least twenty-four hours since I’ve eaten.”

Katherine started toward the door and then turned around, crossing back to the couch. She opened the cover of the book she’d been reading and took out a computer disk. It was sealed in a white disk envelope, with my name in large letters across the flap.

“I found this on the porch, right next to the door. I’m guessing it’s from Trey?” She walked back over to me and placed the disk on top of the computer. “I really am sorry about Trey, Kate. But I still think it was for the best.”

I closed my eyes until I heard the door shut behind her and then picked up the disk. I was pretty sure it was just the Cyrist financial information that Trey’s dad had promised to give him, but I held it against my lips for a moment before opening it. My hands weren’t very steady as I opened the envelope and placed the disk in the drive. I expected to see a file directory, but after a couple of seconds Trey’s face popped up, and my breath caught in my throat. He was wearing the same shirt that he’d worn that last night. His gray eyes were a bit red around the edges, and he looked dog-tired, but he smiled into the webcam.

“Hey, pretty girl. If you’re seeing this, you’ve successfully saved the world, just like I knew you would. And if you’re seeing this, I’m probably only a few miles away, but totally oblivious to the fact that I made this video and that the most beautiful girl in the world is watching it. But I’m missing you, Kate. Even if I don’t know it, I’m missing you.”

He took a deep, shaky breath and then continued, looking down at the keyboard and typing in a few strokes. “So—what follows is a brief video compilation of Trey and Kate’s greatest hits. All those nights when I’d come home and then we’d end up on a video chat for half an hour or more? Well, I saved them, all except that first time, ’cause I didn’t have the software yet. I don’t really know why I saved them. It’s not like I ever had a chance to rewatch them, since I was always with you. But they’re all here, on my hard drive. I’m going to burn them to disk, along with a couple videos I took on my phone and the ones we recorded at your party. Everything I can find. Oh, and if you check out the file directory, the stuff Dad promised is there as well.

“The DVD was Connor’s idea, so if it helps, we owe him big. It didn’t even occur to me, but he told me that anything I left there, with you, would be protected, just like the books are. You need to make a copy, once you’re back here, in the present. Or past, I guess. Ask Connor. He can explain it better than I can. I think this could work, Kate—this would be pretty hard to fake. I mean… I’d have to be incredibly dense not to recognize a message from myself, right?

“Here goes then—Lawrence Alma Coleman the Third, also known as Trey. If you have any doubts that this is you talking into the computer, I know what you did that Saturday afternoon when you were thirteen and Mom, Dad, and Estella went to that art gallery opening over on R Street. Never told anyone about that, did you?”

I smiled and made a mental note to ask him, one day, exactly what he’d done that Saturday.

“The girl who gave you this disk is Prudence Katherine Pierce-Keller, aka Kate the Time-Traveling Ninja. She has a few memories that you don’t. Maybe these videos will help bridge that gap. But really, all you need to know is this—she has the prettiest green eyes in the universe and very ticklish feet. She’s a sucker for Princess Bride quotes, onion rings from O’Malley’s, coffee—but not if Connor made it—and you’re so in love that you cannot imagine life without her.

“Now, back to you, Kate,” Trey said. “Find me, kiss me, and make sure I get this message. In that order. And hurry, okay? I love you—and I miss you already.”

He was still staring at the camera as the video faded out and shifted to one of the webcam shots, with my face in the big screen and Trey’s in a smaller inset window in the upper right-hand corner. We weren’t talking about anything, really—just an excuse to be together for a few more minutes before sleep. I clicked through quickly, knowing that I would go back later and watch every single minute. They were all there, in chronological order, as best I could tell. Every conversation, every silly joke, me painting my toenails while we talked, Trey offering me a bite of ice cream and dripping chocolate syrup on the camera.

I was laughing and crying at the same time when I heard a soft knock at the door.

Connor cracked the door and stepped in, carrying a large tray. “Should I come back?” he asked.

“No. You have food,” I said. “Don’t you dare leave.” I moved the computer to the other side of the bed and slid over to make room. “In just a minute, I’m going to start shoving that into my mouth as fast as possible, and it wouldn’t be polite to talk then, so let me say thank you first. For everything, but especially for giving Trey this idea. This is why he was able to let go, isn’t it? Why he stopped fighting me about staying here when I made the jump.”

“I suspect I would have had to evict him bodily otherwise, and he would probably have still camped out on the porch.” Connor smiled, shaking his head. “I thought he’d tell you himself, but maybe he didn’t want to jinx it. You’re going to need to make a copy of that disk—once you go back to before the last time shift. Make it here, at the house, and it should be okay. It’ll be a video from this time, but the disk—that will be in the same timeline as Trey, so… you should just be able to give it to him.”

I had the sandwich unwrapped and was already eating. “It won’t vanish? Or be blank?” I asked, with my mouth half full.

“Not as long as you make a copy,” he said. “I’m not positive, but I can’t see why it wouldn’t work. The diaries still work, right?”

I glanced down at the sandwich in my hand. “You’d better be glad that I’m too happy to be mad at you,” I said between bites. “This is Trey’s roast beef. Did you eat my pastrami?”

“Didn’t know if you were coming back,” he said. “Shame to let a good sandwich go to waste.”

I spent the next few days sleeping, eating, and recording everything that I could remember about the past month. Then I saved the files in a CHRONOS diary to give to Katherine and Connor, and backed everything up on a DVD to give to Dad and eventually, I hoped, to Mom as well.

By day three, the burn on my neck had faded to the point where a scalding cup of coffee actually could have been a possible cause. I dragged my Briar Hill uniform from the back of the closet and very gingerly pulled my hair back, being careful to hide the few bare spots near the nape of my neck.

I retrieved my ID holder—now short two photographs—from the dresser drawer. I’d eventually add new photos of Mom and Dad, but for now I put in a photograph that Connor had taken of me and Trey in the backyard with Daphne, and the picture of me with Charlayne, our arms around each other, grinning from ear to ear with our new belts—mine brown and hers blue—tied around our white jackets.

Both of those photos would vanish if I ever took them outside of a CHRONOS field. If Connor’s theory was right, I could always make copies later—and a vanishing photo might come in handy. Either way, the CHRONOS key was going to be a permanent accessory from now on. That was kind of annoying, since one of the reasons I’d agreed to this insanity was because I didn’t want the constant worry of what might happen if something separated me from the medallion. But given everything I’d been through over the past few weeks, being stuck with an odd piece of jewelry seemed like a small price to pay for a little existence insurance and an emergency exit option.

There were a few other items I couldn’t leave behind—like the necklace and T-shirts Trey had given me, even though I knew that I could never take them out of Katherine’s house if I wasn’t wearing them. I shoved the items into Katherine’s handbag along with the Book of Prophecy and the DVD that Trey had made.

It seemed a bit silly to be sad about saying good-bye to Katherine and Connor when I’d be seeing them in just a few minutes, but I was. They wouldn’t be the same Katherine and Connor. Our relationship would have to be rebuilt, and I could tell that they were thinking the same thing. I kissed them both, and gave Daphne a pat on the head. At least with her, I was pretty sure everything would be the same if I threw in a couple of dog treats and a few minutes of belly scratching.

And then I pulled up the stable point for Katherine’s foyer, set it for 9 A.M. on April 7th, and went back to my life.

Connor was surprised, to say the least, when I appeared without warning in the hallway. He was just coming out of the kitchen, wearing the same jeans and plaid shirt he’d been wearing when he’d rushed out to pay the cab driver after my backpack was stolen. He yelled for Katherine, and she came hurrying down the stairs in her red bathrobe. And then we all sat down on the couch, and Connor made the bad coffee. But instead of Katherine telling me her story, I told them mine—or at least enough specifics that they could play their parts for a few days. And Connor passed me the entire box of gingersnaps, instead of three measly cookies this time.

I borrowed Katherine’s phone to call Mom and tell her about the accident—nothing major, I said, just a scald. But I’d lost my backpack in the confusion. Of course, I started crying the moment I heard her voice on the other end of the line, but she mistook the tears for worry about the backpack.

“Kate, sweetie, it’s no big deal. I’ll cancel the credit card; we’ll get you a new phone and iPod. We’ll pay for the books. I’m not angry about this, so you don’t need to be upset.”

“I know, Mom. I love you.”

“Do you need me to come there, Kate? You sound really shaken.”

“No, no. That’s okay, Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Then I called the Briar Hill office and asked if they could give Dad a message—I’d had a minor accident and wouldn’t be in trig class, but I’d see him back at the cottage.

Connor drove me to the cottage a few minutes later. My hands shook as I slid the key into the lock, just as they had when Trey was waiting on the steps. There was no #1 Grandma mug. Dad’s wok was in its usual place on top of the cabinets. I rushed to the fridge, and saw the jambalaya on the second shelf.

There would be plenty of time to tell Dad everything when he got back from class. For now, I just sank down on the sofa and closed my eyes. Home.

Telling Dad was a multistage process, and the fact that I broke down into tears the first time I saw him didn’t help to expedite matters. At least Dad understood what was going on after a long conversation with Katherine and Connor and a few demonstrations with the CHRONOS key. He and I agreed that it was probably best, for now, to keep this between us. So Mom didn’t have a clue why I hit her with a waterworks display and extra long hug when she walked in the door after classes on Wednesday evening. That’s really not our typical style of interaction, and I think she was seriously considering scheduling another session with the shrink. I talked her into dinner at O’Malley’s instead. Extra onion rings.

Most pieces of my normal life fell back into place over the next few days. I returned to my typical routine of Mom’s house, Dad’s house, and school. The only major changes were packing up some of my things for the upcoming move to Katherine’s house and having to remind myself that there was no Charlayne for me in this timeline.

And I kept putting off the very thing I’d promised to do first.

The freshly printed DVD was in my new backpack. I’d scanned the photo of the two of us for safekeeping, and I was pretty sure that the original I’d tucked into the ID holder would vanish as soon as I handed it to him. I’d watched the DVD at least a dozen times and even left a copy on Dad’s kitchen counter when I went to class on Friday, just to prove to myself that it wouldn’t disappear and that the contents would remain the same. It was still there when I returned, and it was still Trey’s face that greeted me when I inserted it into the computer. There was no logical reason to put this off, but the knowledge that Trey would look at me and see a complete stranger terrified me.

Finally, on Sunday afternoon, when we were clearing away the dishes from a wonderful spinach lasagna, Dad suggested gelato for dessert. From Ricci’s, near Dupont Circle. Just a few short blocks from Kalorama Heights. Walking distance to Trey. My stomach sank.

Dad watched me a moment and then shook his head. “You can’t put this off forever, Kate. You said you made the boy a promise. Even if it isn’t exactly the same as the relationship you remember, it isn’t fair to Trey or to yourself not to give it a chance. And,” he said with a grin, “I’m getting tired of hearing you play that DVD. Did you two ever talk about anything remotely substantive?”

I snapped the dish towel threateningly in his direction, but I didn’t argue. He was right. I missed Trey. And there wasn’t any chance at all of getting him back if I couldn’t muster up enough courage to make the first move.

I sat on the front steps, staring at the neat border of grass that ran along the walkway between the house and sidewalk. I realized I was chewing on my knuckle about the time I heard the door open behind me and I tucked my hand underneath my jeans to hide the bite mark. The early-evening breeze picked up the faint, familiar scent of his shampoo, so I knew it was him before I even looked up to see those beautiful gray eyes with their tiny flecks of blue. His smile was as open and friendly as it had been that first day when he followed me across the soccer field. And suddenly I wasn’t nervous. This was Trey, my Trey. He just didn’t know it yet.

“It’s Kate, right?” he asked, sitting down next to me on the front step. “Estella says you’re with the Briar Hill welcoming committee? I’m Trey, but I guess you already know that.”

“Hi, Trey,” I said.

And then I kept my promise. I leaned forward and kissed him, long and slow. He was startled at first, but he didn’t pull away—and he most definitely kissed me back. It was totally unlike our first kiss, which had been shy and hesitant on both sides. This time, I knew what he liked and I threw everything I had into that kiss.

“Whoa—what was that for?” he asked when I finally drew back.

“Just keeping a promise,” I said.

“Okay.” He looked a little stunned, but he smiled at me again. “I think I like Briar Hill’s idea of a welcome.”

“Well, I am at Briar Hill, but this is more of an unofficial welcome,” I said, holding out the picture and placing it in his hand. It was very clearly Trey, with his arms wrapped around a girl, who was very clearly me. I kept my fingers on the photo long enough for him to get a really good look, long enough for the inevitable question to creep into his eyes, and then I pulled my fingers away and watched the picture vanish.

I grabbed his hand and placed it on the CHRONOS key, holding it between my own two hands. His face had the same pale, pained look as before. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know that’s uncomfortable for a minute, but…” And then I kissed him again, a soft kiss on the side of his mouth.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m Kate. And I love you, Lawrence Alma Coleman the Third. I’m not some crazy stalker girl. There’s a DVD in this envelope, videos that you made, that will explain everything. The disappearing picture, the reason I’m holding your hand against this weird piece of jewelry—do you feel okay now?”

He nodded, but didn’t speak. I stared into his eyes for a long moment. I saw confusion, doubt, and all the other things I’d expected to see, but behind all of that there was a light that I’d seen before. It wasn’t recognition, it wasn’t love, but it also wasn’t the blank stare of a stranger. There was a connection between us and I felt a surge of hope that Trey had been right to have faith, right to believe that we could rebuild us.

“The videos will explain everything.” I placed the manila envelope in his lap and leaned forward, kissing him once more. “Bye, Trey.”

I was halfway down the sidewalk before he called after me. “Kate! Don’t go. How do I get in touch with you?”

I smiled back at him over my shoulder. “Just open the envelope.”

Acknowledgments

Every historian I’ve known has imagined having a time machine. Not to change history, but just to see how events actually unfolded, without the varnish or bias that gets added to historical accounts. But would we be able to resist tweaking things just a bit to create a better world? I’m not so sure.

That was the idea that launched Timebound; and here at the end, I’d like to take a moment to thank some of the people who helped along the way. With the exception of taking a few liberties with dates and events, the description of the Exposition is largely based on actual history. I spent many hours digging through the Internet Archive, a vast treasure trove of photographs, recordings, and first-hand accounts of the Exposition. The Urban Simulation Team at UCLA has created a truly incredible online simulation of the 1893 Columbian Exposition that made me feel as though I’d actually strolled the sidewalks of the Wooded Island, toured the Palace of Fine Arts, and explored the Midway Plaisance. Finally, a large body of work on serial killer H.H. Holmes, aka Herman Mudgett, including Erik Larson’s wonderful book The Devil in the White City, and several detailed documentaries provided background information that brought the horrors of the World’s Fair Hotel into gruesome focus.

Thanks go to my sisters for listening to me when I needed to vent, and to my parents and brother, along with many other friends and family, who helped to get out the vote when Timebound reached the finals for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award. I’d also like to thank my nieces and nephews for giving me glimpses into the lives and Facebook statuses of young adult readers. (Amanda, you’re old enough to read this now.) Conversations with Gareth and Ariana helped to flesh out the Cyrists, and Mary reminded me many times of that illusive quarry of every writer, the “suspension of disbelief.”

I am also indebted to the many friends, colleagues, and students who have (with various levels of good grace) stuck with me through this project. Gigantic bear hugs to my beta-readers—Ryan, Donna, Pete, Ian, Teri, Joy Joo, Savannah, and Mary Frances—and an extra big hug to those of you who had the patience to comment on multiple drafts. My two favorite Goodreads groups—YA Heroines and Time Travel—provided much needed moral support and insightful commentary on the earlier draft, as did a wide array of book bloggers and fellow writers.

Additional thanks go out to everyone at Skyscape and Amazon Publishing, especially Courtney Miller, Terry Goodman, and Tim Ditlow. This has been a wild ride and you’ve all been very patient with a newbie author. And an extra big thank-you goes to my developmental editor, Marianna Baer, for her insight and commentary. To all of you: if I didn’t incorporate some of your suggestions, please remember that I’m stubborn, and you were probably right. Your advice and feedback were invaluable and I owe you mega.

And even though I’ve mentioned a few of you already, I’ve saved for last the group that I can never thank enough—my wonderful family. You guys rock.

About the Author

Rysa Walker grew up on a cattle ranch in the South. Her options for entertainment were talking to cows and reading books. On the rare occasion that she gained control of the television, she watched Star Trek and imagined living in the future, on distant planets, or at least in a town big enough to have a stoplight. These days, when not writing, she teaches history and government in North Carolina, where she shares an office with her husband and a golden retriever named Lucy. She enjoys yoga, über-dark chocolate, Galaga, and Scrabble. She still doesn’t get control of the TV very often, thanks to her sports-obsessed kids. Timebound is her debut novel.