Elena's POV
The sound of the glass shattering was like a bomb going off. I covered my head as sparkling shards rained down on the flower petals. Liam had thrown his body over mine, protecting me from the flying debris. For a second, everything was silent except for the sound of my own frantic breathing.
"Stay down," Liam hissed. He stood up, his eyes darting toward the street. The man who looked just like him—the one he called Julian—was gone. The black car was still idling, but the driver's side door was wide open, swinging back and forth in the wind.
I scrambled to my feet, shaking the glass out of my hair. "What is happening? Why did the windows just blow out?"
"It wasn't a bomb," Liam said, looking at the jagged edges of the window frame. "It was a sonic pulse. Someone wants us out in the open."
I couldn't take it anymore. The mystery, the twins, the exploding glass—it was too much for someone who couldn't even remember what she had for breakfast. I pushed past Liam and ran toward the back of the shop. I needed to get away from the street.
I burst into the back room and fell to my knees. My hands searched the wooden floor until I found it—the loose board Liam had mentioned. I pried it up with my fingernails, ignoring the sting as a splinter dug into my skin. Underneath the floor was a small metal box.
I grabbed it and pulled it out. It was locked. I looked at the silver key Liam had shown me, then at the box. I didn't have the key. He did.
I heard footsteps behind me. I spun around, clutching the box to my chest like a shield. It was Mrs. Gable, my oldest customer. She was standing in the doorway, but she didn't look like a sweet old lady anymore. She was holding a small, black device in her hand, and her eyes were cold.
"Elena, dear," she said, her voice sounding different—sharper. "You really should have just stayed in the hospital. Some memories are better left buried in the dirt with the flowers."
"Mrs. Gable?" I whispered. "What are you doing?"
"I'm collecting a debt," she said. "Now, give me that box."
Before I could move, Liam appeared behind her. He grabbed her wrist, and the black device fell to the floor. "Go, Elena! Get out of here!"
I didn't wait to be told twice. I bolted through the back exit and into the alleyway. The fog was even thicker now, smelling of salt and wet pavement. My boots splashed through puddles as I ran toward the main road. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew I couldn't stay.
I reached the sidewalk and stopped, gasping for air. The stress felt like a physical weight on my chest. I prided myself on my knowledge of plants, but right now, I couldn't even remember which flowers were poisonous and which were safe. Everything was a blur of colors and fear.
I saw a delivery truck idling at the curb. The driver was sitting in the cab, his face hidden by a low cap. I ran toward him, thinking I could ask for help. But as I got closer, I saw the logo on the side of the truck. It was a picture of a wilting lily—the same logo I had seen on a document in my hospital room.
The driver looked at me. It was the same man I had seen earlier with the star-shaped drawing. He didn't look helpful. He looked like he was waiting for a signal.
I stepped back, my mind spinning. I had to get across the street. I had to get to the police station. I stepped off the curb, my mind filled with images of gold rings and secret boxes. I didn't hear the roar of the engine at first. I didn't see the massive wall of yellow metal hurtling through the fog from the opposite direction.
A horn blared—a sound so loud it felt like it was inside my brain. I turned my head just in time to see a second truck, a heavy delivery vehicle, inches away from my face. My boots slid on the damp pavement as I tried to jump back. I was frozen.
This was the end. The memory of the glass and the rain from my nightmare came rushing back, louder than the horn. I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact.
"Elena! No!" a voice roared.
Suddenly, a pair of powerful arms slammed into my waist, lifting me off my feet. We flew through the air and hit the hard concrete of the sidewalk. The truck thundered past, the wind from its speed so strong it knocked the breath out of my lungs.
I lay there for a second, my eyes locked onto the person pinned beneath me. It was Liam. He had jumped across the street like a professional athlete to save me. But he wasn't looking at me like a stranger. His mask of "Liam the Architect" had dropped completely. His face was twisted with pure, raw terror.
"You're okay," he breathed, his voice trembling as he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. "I've got you, Laney. I promised I'd never let them hurt you again. I promised I'd be faster this time."
My blood turned to ice. He hadn't just saved me. He had used that nickname—the one from the dreams I thought I had made up. But before I could ask him anything, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, blood-stained locket that must have fallen during our fall. He clicked it open, and my heart stopped beating.
Inside was a picture of us. We were standing on a beach, laughing, and I was wearing that same gold ring. But it was the date engraved on the silver that made me want to scream.
It was tomorrow's date. But the year was 2024. My accident happened in 2026.
How could a photo from two years in the future be sitting in his pocket, covered in fresh blood?.