“I think we should stick together,” I say, pulling my purse close. “I don’t want to get robbed again.”
“Good call,” Kyle says. “Well, let’s go. No time like the present.”
There is, I have noticed, a distinct difference between looking for someone who is lost, and looking for someone who does not want to be found.
Someone who is lost, by definition, usually has a destination in mind when they set out, and along the way, just… got lost. Losing one’s way in space is bad enough. Being lost in time, I think, has to be even worse, because not only can’t you get to where you want to be, you can’t even get home, because home likely doesn’t even exist yet. For this reason I feel like I ought to be more driven in rescuing Maris.
However, it’s impossible to do that right now without tracking down my notebook. As we walk through the mall, glancing in stores and doing full walkthroughs if we suspect or even have a hunch that Hood-E-Scuz might be inside, I start to ponder just why that is.
Logically, I must recover the notebook, because if I didn’t, it would create a massive paradox about all the other times that it hasn’t failed. The problem is, if I do recover the notebook, Maris’ ‘parents’ should have come to claim her an hour ago. She’s still here, therefore the notebook is missing. Of course, the only reason the notebook is missing in the first place is because nobody claimed Maris, leading me back up the stairs ann into Hood-E-Scuz’s waiting sticky fingers. The paradox, somehow, created itself out of absolutely nothing.