I think of Mary, laughing as she splashed in the ocean in Montauk. Of Hannah, making a face at me over a plate of fries. Of Saturday mornings around the breakfast table with my mom and dad and grandpa. “If they love you, I don’t think you can ever really lose them,” I say thickly. “Even if you’re not in the same place.”
“I hope that’s true.” He turns around again. “I’ll see you soon, Lydia.”
I stare at his thin shoulders. Even though he’s almost fourteen, he looks too small for the burdens I heaped on top of him. “Yeah, soon.”
I pause at the door. “Don’t let them win, LJ.”
He doesn’t answer, and I leave the room.
I make it to Bellevue just in time. A woman at the front desk directs me to the psych ward again, since I can’t remember how to find it myself. As soon as I’m outside the heavy, fortified door, I lay on the buzzer, waiting for a nurse to let me in.
It takes a few minutes before the door opens a crack. A face peers out at me. It’s the same bald male nurse from two days ago. “Hi,” I say a little breathlessly. “Do you remember me?”
He looks confused for a moment, but then nods and smiles. “Bentley’s niece. You made it in the nick of time, didn’t you?”
“It’s still visiting hours, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but that’s not what I mean. Didn’t you hear? Your uncle is getting moved today.”
A flicker of alarm shoots through me. As far as I know, Grandpa never left Bellevue in this version of the time line. “Getting moved to where?”
“The long-term patient care facility at Rockland Hospital. I told you about it last time, remember?”
“Yes,” I respond slowly. “But I didn’t think it was happening so soon.”
The nurse shrugs. “The people from Rockland showed up today. Said they’re ready for him now. It was a little out of the blue, but these things happen.” He gestures over his shoulder. “They’re in with him, if you want to go say good-bye.”
The flicker grows into a sharp, nervous pang. “I want to see him.”
The nurse lets me into the ward and leads me down the hall again, but halfway there another nurse stops him. They murmur for a while, and then the bald nurse turns to me. “I’m sorry, I need to go take care of something. You remember where his room is, right? The Rockland transport team is highly trained, so there shouldn’t be a repeat of last time.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He smiles and walks back down the hall.
I slowly approach my grandfather’s room. There’s a rustling sound from the partially open doorway, and I hear a female voice bark out an order.
I creep closer and peek through the crack in the door. There are three people in the room. One is older, male, and dressed as a doctor. The other two are wearing orderly uniforms. I realize that one of them is a girl around my age. She has pretty, delicate features and light brown skin. “Move him,” she orders the two men. “We’re running out of time. Doctor Peters is expecting us soon.”
The doctor and the other male orderly walk to the head of the bed and lift up the prone figure of my grandfather. As they dump him onto a waiting gurney, I see that he’s unconscious, or drugged maybe, and wrapped in a thin white sheet.
“Careful,” the girl snaps. “He’s not supposed to be harmed.”
The nurse didn’t mention that my grandfather was going to be drugged for the transport. And why are two older men, including a doctor, taking orders from this young girl? There’s something about her voice . . . something robotic and flat that reminds me of how Wes spoke in the beginning. No inflection. No emotion.
The girl moves to one of the freestanding closets in the room. She stands on her tiptoes in order to reach a blanket on the top shelf. When she does, the short sleeve of her pale blue uniform rides up her arm. I gasp out loud. There, against her skin, is a white, raised bump. The Mark of the Traveler. No wonder the other men were taking orders from her; she’s a recruit for the Montauk Project, and they must be guards sent to help her kidnap my grandfather.
Grandpa wasn’t supposed to disappear for another three days, but clearly the time line has changed again. Only this time the Montauk Project must be aware of it. Why else would they be kidnapping him? Have I done something else to alter history?
The girl suddenly turns her head toward the hallway and our eyes meet. I half expect her to smile and start pretending she’s a representative from Rockland; I know from experience that the recruits are supposed to maintain cover at all times. But her eyes narrow and she begins walking quickly toward the door—toward me. “Watch the main target,” she says over her shoulder to the men, not even bothering to put any inflection in her voice. “I have to take care of this.”
I don’t like the look in her eyes. She knows me somehow, and her gaze has turned predatory and fierce. I whip around and sprint down the hallway.
I run straight into the bald nurse and grasp the front of his shirt in both hands. “Give me your key,” I pant.
“What?”
“Your key! I need to get out of here.”
“I don’t—”
I don’t have time for this; the girl is headed right for us. She can’t run without drawing too much attention to herself, but I can still feel her quickly approaching. I grab the key that hangs around the nurse’s neck and yank as hard as I can. The thin clasp that connects it to a braided cord snaps neatly in half. The nurse sputters behind me as I run for the exit.
My hand slips on the metal and I almost drop the
