March 10
So apparently I have some ability that Reynolds knew about, and that makes me the go-to girl for time travelers. To say that this pisses me off is to be rather more polite about it than I’m willing to express at the moment. I curse in every language I know with every step, mostly at Reynolds, but also because I think I know what’s going to be waiting for me at the Beanery. I have no idea how I know, but for some reason, I know.
As I approach the building, I will myself to slow down and catch my breath. My lungs are seizing up, sucking in freezing air and expelling carbon dioxide of only a slightly higher temperature. I need to face this with the right attitude, with the right amount of composure. It won’t do for Katie to see me like this, totally strung out and on the verge of tears. Five minutes after my breathing has returned to normal, I decide that I’m not going to get any more ready, and I round the corner to the door.
The sign reads “CLOSED”.
Am I too late? Did I screw up? Or, probably more likely, did Reynolds not make it in time? This certainly isn’t what I was expecting to see. I start to pout, the tears wibbling into the corners of my eyes once more, before I take a deep breath. No, I think, this isn’t wrong. This doesn’t feel wrong. It feels… like things are resolving. I can’t tell how I know this, and the fury at this mixes with the sorrow at what I know it means. I put my hand on the door handle, trying to make up my mind.
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