“Right.”

“When will they arrive?”

“Today, I think. I paid for expedited delivery. Actually, they might already be waiting on my front porch.”

“That’s good.” If the certificates were there, they’d have his parents’ address. They might be able to head out tomorrow—Saturday—to see of the couple was even still living there. And if not, they might still have time to drive to the hospital where he was born and try to get into their files, find out a little more information about him and his “family.”

“So you’ll never guess what I did. Because I don’t want a conversation lag, I’ll just tell you. I snuck into my dad’s office and read some of his notes about you,” she said as they walked. Blessedly, she sounded calmer, in control. “He remembers you, and really liked you, but what you said about my mother really freaked him out.”

She’d done it. She’d truly done it. For him. “First, thank you. Second, I didn’t say anything about your mom.”

“Yes, you did. The time travel thing.”

He’d only mentioned his own time travel. Dr. Gray had been the one to mention another’s, a woman’s. Could it be? “Did your mom disappear at times?”

“No, never. And I would have known. Most of my childhood I was glued to her side.”

“Then I don’t understand.”

“Me, either. He mentioned both a wife and a current wife, made me think that the woman I thought was my mom wasn’t. But I don’t see how that’s possible.”

He led her back to the car Victoria had stolen—the corvette was gone—and they slid inside. He locked the doors. They sat there for several minutes, panting, waiting to see if anyone—or thing—would turn a corner. Nothing did. He heaved a sigh of relief and started the engine.

“Thank you,” he told her again. “For everything.”

“I plan to talk to him. I just have to do it sometime when he can’t avoid me or order me to my room. Otherwise, we’ll never get answers. Besides, I need a break from this, you know?”

Hopefully, that time would come before Halloween and the ball he was supposed to attend. Knowledge was power and Aden had a feeling he would need all the power he could get to face Victoria’s dad. He loved her, planned to be a part of her life for as long as he had left, and her father’s permission would help. As it was, he wasn’t likely to gain it. He was a troublemaker, a “schizo.”

“We’ll learn about you, don’t worry,” Mary Ann said, probably sensing the direction of his thoughts.

They drove to her house, and this time Aden obeyed the speed laws. He couldn’t risk being pulled over. To his disappointment, no package was waiting on Mary Ann’s porch, and Riley and Victoria were not there, either. Where were they?

“Your dad’s still at work, right?” he asked before stepping foot in the house.

“Yeah. He won’t be home for hours yet.”

“Then I’ll stay. For a little while, at least.”

“Just…promise me you won’t talk about what’s happening, the past, the future. I just can’t handle it right now.”

She was pale. “I promise,” he said.

They climbed the stairs and turned on the TV, as if this were a normal day and they themselves were normal. For the first time in his life, he was able to enjoy a show without any distractions.

The package never arrived. Neither did Riley nor Victoria. He couldn’t wait it, or them, out. If he didn’t return to school and walk home with Shannon as if he’d been there all day, he’d ruin all of Victoria’s hard work.

He glanced out Mary Ann’s bedroom window. Victoria’s car was still parked there. He’d use it one more time, he decided, but he wouldn’t leave it at Crossroads High. He’d park a block away and hide it in the woods until the vampire could retrieve it.

“Lock your doors when I leave,” he said. “If you hear from Riley or Victoria, call the D and M. I don’t care if it gets me in trouble. I’d rather be punished than worry.”

She nodded, hugged him. “Be careful.”

“You, too.”

Of course, Mary Ann’s package came at seven that evening, the last delivery of the day. Her dad was home, in his office, probably poring over his notes about Aden, trying to think up a rational reason he’d been able to claim a friendship with Mary Ann years before he’d actually met her.

She was about to open the package when she realized Penny was tentatively scaling the steps.

“Hey,” Penny said.

Mary Ann froze.

They stood facing each other for an eternity, silent, unsure. Mary Ann had avoided her so steadfastly, her friend had eventually stopped calling, stopped seeking her out at school. Or maybe Penny hadn’t been there. Sadly, she couldn’t be sure. She’d been too preoccupied.

“Hey,” Penny said again.

“Hey.”

Penny gazed down at her hands, fingers twisting together. She looked awful. Defeated. How long had it been since Mary Ann had seen the girl’s usual sparkle?

“How are you?” Mary Ann asked, not knowing what else to say.

“I could be better. Morning sickness has been a bitch.” That flat tone hurt more than it should have, all things considered. “My parents want me to get rid of the baby.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. No. Maybe.” A sigh. “I don’t think so. I hate Tucker, but the baby is also a part of me, you know? I want it. I think.”

Tucker was a demon. Would that mean the child Penny carried also carried that taint? She’d wondered before, but now, with Penny right in front of her, that didn’t seem to matter. “That’s good.” Yes or no, a baby was a baby. Innocent and precious.

Silence met her words, heavy, oppressive.

“I miss us,” Penny suddenly burst out. “I want us to be the way we were. I’m so sorry for what I did to you. I was drinking, but that’s no excuse. I knew better. Oh, God, Mary Ann. I’m so sorry.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “You have to believe me.”

Mary Ann waited for the sense of betrayal to surface, but it never did. For all she knew, Tucker could have used his power of illusion on her friend, making her more susceptible to him. Besides, she hated seeing Penny like this, so torn up, so beaten down.

“I believe you,” she said. “I don’t think we can go back to the way we were, not yet, but I do believe you.”

Penny regarded her for a moment, then whimpered and rushed forward, throwing herself against Mary Ann. Mary Ann gasped in surprise. But as Penny cried, she couldn’t help but hold her, tracing her free hand along her friend’s spine and uttering soothing coos.

As Riley had said, everyone made mistakes. This was Penny’s, and if Mary Ann wanted the girl in her life—and she was beginning to think that she did, for she, too, missed their friendship—she had to forgive.

“I’m so sorry. I swear I am. I’ll never do anything like that again. You can trust me. I learned my lesson. I swear to God I did.”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. I’m not mad at you anymore.”

Penny pulled back, though she kept her arms tight around Mary Ann’s middle. “You’re not?”

“You’re an important part of my life. I don’t know how long it’ll take for me to trust you again, but it no longer seems impossible.”

“I don’t deserve you.” Penny swiped at her face with the back of her wrist. “I know I don’t, and I know I should walk away from you and leave you in peace, but I just can’t. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You understand me in ways no one else ever has, and I’ve hated myself since this thing with Tucker. I wanted to tell you, I did, but I was so afraid of losing you.”

“You’re not going to lose me. I need you, too.” She saw that now. The tension that had settled on her shoulders since seeing all those creatures in town had just kind of melted away with Penny’s appearance. Was this how Mary Ann made Aden—and Tucker—feel? “Besides, you did me a favor. I’d needed to kick Tucker out of my life. You gave me the push to actually do it.”