He catches my eye and I start to lean in to him. We’re only inches apart when the folder I’m holding scrapes against his arm. I pull back, flustered.
“Dean. We need to concentrate on Dean.” I clear my throat. Wes smiles slightly.
“He’s in the Facility right now,” I say. “He wasn’t supposed to disappear until tomorrow, but something changed. I think I might have already altered the time line.”
Wes’s eyes narrow, and his rubs his jaw again. “That’s not good, Lydia.”
I frown. “I don’t know how much time Dean has left. I need to find him tonight, before it’s too late.”
“What are you going to do once you find him?”
I sigh. “Warn him about his disappearance. Hope he believes me.”
“He might not,” Wes says. He looks skeptical.
“I don’t know what else to do.”
“Do you have any proof?”
I shake my head, feeling defeated. “And now I also need to warn him about the Recruitment Initiative. He needs to know what’s happening—or what’s going to happen—with those children.”
“If Dean doesn’t already know about the kids—”
“He doesn’t,” I cut in.
Wes gives me a look. “If he doesn’t already know, he still might not want to hear about how his project is corrupt. He might not believe you about any of it.”
“Wait.” I reach out and grab Wes’s arm. “If I can show him the room of kidnapped children, then he has to believe me. He won’t be able to deny it after he sees it with his own eyes.”
“Lydia.” Wes looks alarmed. “You can’t forget all about the butterfly effect. Showing him that room could produce a huge change in the time line. If the Recruitment Initiative is gone, then my role in the Montauk Project disappears completely.”
“But if the recruits are dismantled, then won’t you have a better life?”
He grits his teeth and the movement makes his cheekbones look even sharper. “That’s a big if, Lydia. My life may not be perfect, but I don’t want to chance an unknown future.”
I meet his eyes. “You said that if anything in the time line changed, then it wouldn’t affect us because we’re outside of it. That means you’d still exist, even if the Recruitment Initiative was destroyed. You’d be free, Wes.”
He looks at me and there’s something hopeful and raw in his expression. “If I can give you that life, then I will,” I say. “I have to do this, for you and for my grandfather. It’s a risk, of course, but isn’t it a risk worth taking? Especially if you could leave the Montauk Project behind forever?”
He frowns, but I can see that he’s thinking about my words.
“Fine. We’ll sneak into the Facility tonight at midnight. You can warn Dean, and then …, Lydia, once you save Dean, there won’t be any reason for you to stay in the past.” His voice goes soft, hesitant. “Will you let me bring you back to your own time, after this is over?”
My gaze swings involuntarily toward the Bentleys’ house. He’s right: I said I would leave this time period once the business with Dean was over, and it will be tonight. But am I ready to leave yet?
I think of my family on both sides of time. This has been an adventure, but I can’t stay here forever, and I know that Wes won’t rest until I’m back in 2012. Leaving won’t be easy, but this isn’t my life. It’s time to go back home.
“Okay,” I whisper.
He smiles. “You should go talk to Peter.”
Of course, Peter. I had forgotten about him overhearing me. I need to make it right.
“I’ll be here at midnight,” Wes says, stepping away. He half smiles, then disappears into the trees.
Finding Peter isn’t as easy I thought it would be. I check inside the house, around the yard, and then I start to search the woods.
I eventually spot his small, dark head behind a boulder. I walk through the underbrush until I’m facing him. He won’t look at me, just looks straight ahead into the forest. I can see faint tear marks running down his face. My stomach clenches tight.
I crouch next to him. I’m still holding the folder, and I set it down next to me on the damp ground so I can rest both hands on my knees.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did. Your father isn’t a bad man.”
He tucks his face into the side of his shirt. “Then why did you say he was?” It’s hard to make out the muffled words.
“I was angry. But I’m not anymore.”
He peeks out at me with his green eyes. “Why not?”
“Because I remembered that your dad is a big war hero. And that he’s kind and a good husband and a good dad.”
Peter nods and turns his face a little more toward me. “He plays airplanes with me and he always lets me win.”
I smile. “That sounds like a good dad to me.”
Peter lifts his head. “Are you sorry for saying that about him?”
“I’m very sorry.”
“And you didn’t mean it?”
“No way.”
He sighs and the movement makes his whole body lift and then fall. I hold back a smile. “Then I guess I can forgive you,” he says. He scampers to his feet and grabs my hand. “I want to show you the other bird’s nest I found.” He tugs at me and I laugh, rising to my feet. I almost forget to snatch up Dean’s file before Peter pulls me farther into the woods.
Later that night, I sit on the edge of Dean’s old bed, studying his quilt and waiting for midnight. Mary is in the next room, probably asleep by now. The thought of leaving her and everyone else is a
