Page 23 of The Girl Out of Time
What was going on? “It’s Sunday, April 14.”
Emily looked somewhere to the side, the light of a monitor illuminating her face, then back at him, eyes wide in shock. He knew her for long enough to know something was wrong. A ball of lead formed in his stomach as the dread of something unknown, but unfathomably horrifying, spread from it.
“Emily?” he prompted.
“Will, you need to get off that ship.” Emily swallowed visibly. “It’s going to sink tonight.”
***
Emmeline paced the length of her cabin, clenching her fists. How dare Father lock her in like she was some misbehaving five-year-old? He’d never locked anyone in their room, not even Tristan that time he’d rebelled at dinner and didn’t want to eat a single spoonful of his otherwise favorite pumpkin soup.
She strode back to the door and yanked at it again. It stayed locked—not that she’d expected differently, but she still banged on it once in frustration. She huffed and puffed, and finally stopped a few steps away, examining her enemy with narrowed eyes.
She was not staying in here.
A few years ago, her parents took her to her grandparents’ house for a few days while they went on a trip. Emmeline had run into Grandma Fabienne’s arms and asked what they’d do today.“Please, please, nothing boring, like embroidery!” she’d begged.
“I never was much for embroidery myself.” A mischievous grin spread across Grandma’s face. “But I can show you a far more fun use of a sewing kit.”
Led by the memories, Emmeline emptied the contents of her jewelry box on the bed, looking for any pins she could bend into the correct shape. Finding two good candidates, she kneeled in front of the door. Grandma had told her one needed to be calm and collected for lock-picking, and Emmeline was anything but, so it took her quite a few tries and a broken pin. At last, the lock fell.
After Grandma had taught her to lock-pick, Emmeline spent the entire summer daydreaming about becoming a professional art and jewelry thief when she grew up. Father didn’t approve. He wouldn’t approve of this, either—oh, well.
Emmeline burst into the empty hallway and, without hesitation, headed to the staircase. Down and down she went, as the light from the great dome faded: past the deck where they’d entered the ship on the first day, past the inquiry office, past the reception room and its groups of chit-chattering passengers, and down further, as the grand staircase turned into a very regular staircase, and fine wood-paneled walls into simple white-painted ones. She’d come to the cursed Turkish baths, but instead of turning into the lavishly decorated cooling room, she chose the other hallway and opened the door at the end. Fury and determination led her, blowing away all worries of being somewhere prohibited to passengers. She rushedpast rooms with shelves full of neatly folded linen and up a narrow iron staircase, finding herself in a surprisingly wide, long hallway, brimming with crewmen.
She took a moment to orient herself. That way to the bow—surely there was a passage somewhere to the third class quarters. She ducked her head, and her anger helped her assume a brisk pace. Perhaps thanks to that, or the general preoccupation of the crew, no one stopped her and questioned her. Stairs, at the end, leading back down again. Right into that hallway, left, down another narrow hallway. This area looked like it would have cabins, but she’d lost all sense of direction …
She leaned against the wall, catching her breath.
What on Earth was she doing?
And what was she going to do once she found Leon? Elope with him, even though he’d proclaimed no feelings for her, and she for him, and they’d known each other for all of five days? And they couldn’t escape from the ship either way.
She was so stupid.
She slid down the wall and drew up her knees, hiding her head in her skirt.That’s why you got locked into your room. Because you’re a silly girl.
But still, fury—whether from her perceived injustice, or something else—burned in her chest. She cried out, half in anger, half in despair. It was all pointless. Her life had been decided, and she had nothing to do with that decision.
Something clinked on the floor next to her. The silver locket she’d found on the beach, almost the entirety of an ocean away. She must’ve left it in her skirt pocket.
Emmeline gripped it tight and pressed it to her forehead, seeking a reprieve in the cool metal. She didn’t know who JCB from the engraving was, but she hoped they had a better life than she did.
If onlyshecould be someone else. Be anywhere else, have a different family, a different life. She sniffled as her throat closed up, announcing incoming tears.
But instead of tears, only pain came, sudden and throbbing in her temples, like that day on the beach. Emmeline yelled, tumbling over. The pointer finger of the hand holding the locket had colored blue, the stain progressing from the tip toward the palm.
And then, a breeze. Impossible, in such a tight, enclosed hallway. Focusing through the headache, she glanced toward the source.
A few feet away from her, the air shimmered in a circle. At first, she thought it was a mirror or a window, but the shape, taking almost the entire height of the hallway, cut straight through the middle of it. Emmeline got to her feet and approached the bizarre phenomenon. Another burst of wind—pleasant, warm. She tilted her head.
Was that a beach?
She had to be imagining things, but she reached a hand toward it, anyway.
The hand sunk into the illusion. Warm sun grazed her skin.
Emmeline cast a glance over her shoulder—the hallway was still empty—then looked back, biting her lip.
