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  Alone. It felt weird today. Eerie even. I stopped and did a full three-sixty, looking around for anything out of place. It was early morning and still dark outside, but I didn’t see anyone. All of a sudden, my stomach rolled with nausea. I tossed the remainder of my granola bar to the curb and washed what was in my mouth down with a sip of coffee. I couldn’t wait to get to work now.

  Finally, I arrived. It amazed me how the beauty of the building could still leave me breathless after all the time I had spent here. Sending a quick text to the roomies to let them know I was safe and sound, I let myself in the already unlocked front door. Hmm, that was weird, I didn't see Seline's car. Maybe the cleaning staff was here?

  Stopping by my office, I dropped my bag off. No Seline or cleaning lady. I wandered toward the stairs leading to the basement archive rooms. My office was originally supposed to be down there, as my predecessor’s was. However, after hearing the rumor about the Hanged Man’s ghost, I opted to keep my old desk in Seline’s office. She certainly had the room and didn’t seem to mind.

  After a lap around the visitor floors and exhibit rooms came up empty, I headed to the bottom floor, toward the tunnels.

  "Seline? Are you down there?" I called to the open door, hesitating to go down before I was sure I wouldn’t be alone. I could handle the supposedly haunted space if there were other possible victims around me, but there was no way I would be caught dead down there alone.

  "Lina? Oh, goodness! I didn't realize you would be here this early. I was hoping you’d sleep in or come in after lunch. Jilsey mentioned a week of half days. Come on down, honey, we have some introductions to make," she said and moved a work light closer to the steep staircase so I could see where I was going as I climbed down.

  My feet had barely reached the bottom of the ladder before Seline pulled me into an enormous hug, nearly crushing my rib cage.

  "It’s good to see you, too, Seline," I said, as I tugged myself free of her grasp.

  "Sorry! I got a little carried away." She fluttered her hand around, waving away the fact that she’d nearly crushed me. Looping her arm through mine, she led me to her work area—I noticed she’d actually moved a spare desk down here. As I took my seat across from her, she moved her glasses to the top of her head and propped her chin on her hands. "I missed you, Lina. I was so worried about you. I called your cell when you didn't show up on Monday to make sure you were feeling okay, and Gavin answered. He gave me the CliffsNotes version of your accident."

  "Oh my God," I said, cringing internally at the clusterfuck that I was sure that conversation had consisted of. “Was he at least nice to you?”

  "He was as nice as I believe he possibly could have been," she said, smiling. Whatever Gavin said couldn’t have been too bad. "Don’t give it too much thought, he did what he thought he had to do. And, regardless, you have good people on your team, honey," she said, patting my hand. She was quiet for a moment and finally asked, almost reluctantly, "Has anyone told your mother?"

  "Not that I know of,” I clipped out, not liking the turn this conversation had taken. Seline knew how I felt about this subject. “If they were stupid enough to tell her, they wouldn’t have told me. They know better," I said, wanting desperately to change the subject. "Jilsey and Gavin are my next of kin. I changed it a while back. Plus, I’m an adult, they don’t have to tell her shit." Shifting uncomfortably in my chair, I hoped she would take the hint that this was not a subject I wanted to discuss. "So, be real with me, Seline. How far behind are we? I can work late or come in early for a while. No scratch that—I will."

  "There will be no more coming in early or staying late or weekends for either of us," she announced, looking at me sternly. "We will have set hours of no more than twelve hours a day, with an hour of mandatory lunch, along with one fifteen minute break for every four hours worked. We will not be here on weekends, either. You may take work home, though," she said.

  "I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly. What did you say?" I asked in astonishment. She lived and breathed this museum. What on earth would possess her to—never mind, it all made sense now. "What did Gavin do?"

  "He had a list of pros and cons. I’m surprised he didn’t come in and present a PowerPoint slideshow, to be honest.”

  “I’m so sorry, Seline. Don’t worry about him.” I was going to have a serious talk with him when I got home.

  “He made some rather good points. There is nothing in this place that can’t wait until tomorrow. There is no reason that we should be here at all hours of the day and night. I’m single and have nothing better to do with my time. You, however, have family, friends, and a social life that you should be spending your off time tending to," she explained. “So, don’t worry about it,” she assured me, laughing. “It will be okay. I went home at six thirty every day this week. I even did laundry on a Wednesday! Did you know Jeopardy was still on the air? I’m also thinking of signing up for hot yoga…ooh, or maybe Pilates.”

  “Okay, if you say so.” I was still going to talk to him. “So, how long is it going to take us to get caught up?” I cringed inwardly, because I knew my hiatus had probably cost us at least a month in work.

  “Shouldn’t take any time at all. We’re not that behind,” she said. Taking in my stunned expression, she explained, “I kept up the office work, the team continued to dig out the tunnels, and we just took on a new volunteer to document all the artifacts. He actually started earlier this morning. He was here bright and early.”

  “Does the poor sap know that he’s barely going to see the light of day while he’s here?” I laughed, already feeling bad for him.

  “He just finished course work with The University of Saebo but has to wait until spring to graduate, so he’s collecting experience hours until then. I think he said he was from Wales or something like that. Anyway, I think you will be a good mentor for him, even though he’s a couple years older,” she added excitedly. Looking behind me, she smiled. “Oh, speak of the devil, we were just talking about you. This is Lina, my Museum Technician and Archivist.”

  I stood and turned toward the opening at the south of the tunnel to meet our newest volunteer. There was an ultra-bright light shining behind him, making it hard for me to see him right away. That was when I felt it, an instinctive pull toward him—like my body already knew him though my mind didn’t. Or maybe it did, because a little bit of that wall crumbled away. He was wearing a blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, khaki pants, and his hair was flopping onto his forehead.

  “Lina, this is Telor,” Seline said, from seemingly far away.

  My head was floating somewhere above me. I tried to mutter a hello, or something similar, but all that came out was a slurred “‘lo.” Blackness crept across my vision as I swayed on my feet, and distant voices asked me if I was okay—was it Seline or Telor? I felt a hand on my face and an electric shock shot through my entire body as my knees went out from under me. In the far corner of my mind, I hoped someone would catch me before I hit the ground.

  My body was cradled in someone’s lap. It was as solid as the undeniably masculine arms wrapped around me. Oh God, did they call Gavin? Wearily, I opened my eyes. Staring back at me was a pair of hypnotic eyes behind a pair of black-rimmed glasses. He smiled worriedly down at me.

  “Well, good morning. Nice of you to join us,” he said, helping me prop myself up on my elbows. Realizing I was practically sitting in his lap, I tried to move to the side, but he held me loosely yet firmly to his lap. “Don’t move, Catalina, you’ll hurt yourself. Seline went to get you some juice.”

  I swooned at the way his voice caressed my senses.

  A memory clicked in my head. It was fuzzy and blurry. I couldn’t take my eyes away from his face. That face…I knew that face. Memories slipped like sand through my mind.

  “Cariad,” I whispered, reaching up and touching his face. He closed his eyes briefly, but said nothing, before opening his eyes and moving his face a little farther away f
rom my hand. That sting resonated through my whole body.

  “I beg your pardon?” he said, after a beat.

  It clicked that I had just touched his face. I squirmed in his lap, trying to signal him to let me up. Almost reluctantly, he loosened his hold on me and allowed me a couple of inches. I loved the way his arms felt—as if they were made for me.

  “Who are you?” I rasped out, my throat tight with anticipation or anxiety.

  “Telor?” he asked, as if he was unsure of his name.

  “Do I know you?” I asked. “You look so familiar.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember you.”

  I blushed at his compliment. I knew I’d seen him before. I just couldn’t remember when or where. There was a voice in a distant corner of my mind trying to talk, but it was too far away to hear.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s the head injury, I’m sure.”

  “Sounds about right,” he responded. “What happened?”

  “I painted my front porch red with four pints of blood, passed out, and almost died,” I explained bluntly. “At least that’s what they tell me. I don't really remember most of it.”

  “What do you remember?”

  “Not much,” I said. “I think I forget a little more of it every day.” My stomach grumbled, and the sound was amplified by the mostly empty room.

  “You should probably stop skipping breakfast, also,” he said.

  “I ate breakfast.”

  “Half a granola bar hardly counts as breakfast,” he said, rolling his eyes and helping me to my feet.

  “How did you know I only ate half a granola bar?” I asked, swaying slightly as he steadied me.

  “You just told me,” he said, looking a little worried. “Not sixty seconds ago.”

  “Right. Well, good thing Seline went to get juice,” I said. I didn’t remember saying anything about what I ate this morning. Something twisted in my gut. His words felt wrong.

  “Are you sure you’re okay to stand on your own, Catalina?” He hadn’t let go of me yet. Not that I wanted him to.

  “I’m sure,” I said. “How did you know my name was Catalina? No one calls me that.”

  “Seline mentioned it. Do you prefer Lina then?” He didn’t look at me as he said it. Which was odd because he’d barely taken his eyes off me before that. Again, his words seemed off. Trying to pinpoint the feeling they caused, I came up empty. Maybe it was just him. Being around him was making everything harder to focus on. He captured the entirety of my attention.

  “No.” I shook my head, regretting it. “Catalina is fine.”

  He leaned back and sat on the edge of Seline’s desk, letting go of me. That same empty feeling I had this morning returned. I felt like there was something I was missing. I could feel the mortar on that wall getting looser by the second.

  I closed the distance between us and sat on the edge of the desk next to him, effectively eliminating the empty feeling those couple of feet gave me. Cariad. The word came back to me. I grabbed a Post-it and a pen from Seline’s desk and jotted it down with the best phonetic spelling I could manage. Telor looked at the note, and his eyes stayed fixed on it.

  “Do you know what it means?” I asked. He opened his mouth to respond, but Seline didn’t give him a chance.

  “Oh good, you're up!” Seline said, coming in and handing me a bottle of orange juice. “I was afraid I was going to have to call Gavin and tell him I broke you on your first day back.”

  “Always call Jilsey first,” I said gulping down the entire bottle of juice. I tucked the folded paper inside my pocket and made a mental note to ask Telor about it later. I was eager to get back to work and to forget this whole passing out thing as quickly as possible.

  “Where do you want me today?” I asked

  “Why don’t you go upstairs and work on admin stuff?” she suggested, herding me toward the stairs. “We are covered down here for today.”

  I pressed my back firmly against the loose metal railing so she couldn’t physically force me to climb. Though, I was sure that the death glare she had would make me climb it pretty fast.

  “I’m okay down here,” I said quickly. “I’m feeling a lot better. Really. I’ll work close to Telor. He’ll make sure nothing happens.” I hoped he didn’t mind me volunteering him to babysit.

  Seline looked toward him for some sort of confirmation that he would indeed keep an eye on me.

  “That works perfectly for me,” he said. He did smile this time, and I thought I might have passed out again had I not been able to grab the railing for support. It was amazing—I found myself wanting to touch his face again, on purpose this time. “We were just talking about going to lunch this afternoon.”

  “Yep, pizza,” I said quickly. It was news to me, but I wanted to go regardless.

  She considered us both for a moment, before shooing us away and settling herself at her desk. I followed Telor into the tunnels. I couldn’t see his face, but I could feel his smile. Practically—actually—feel his pure...happiness? Needless to say, it was going to be an interesting day.

  Telor 10

  I needed to tread carefully. She shouldn’t have remembered this, any of this. Cheyenne made her forget me. Last night, I excused her acknowledgment of my presence, thinking that maybe it had just been her mind’s way of working the memories Cheyenne erased out of her system. It killed me to do it, but for now, it was what had to be done. Tori, miraculously, hadn’t noticed Catalina was still alive. When she did, shit was going to go downhill, and quickly. For now, the less Catalina knew, the better. For now. That little caveat was one thing that kept me going.

  But…how did she know that word? Catalina shouldn’t have remembered me or my words. Honestly, she never should have been able to see or hear me in the first place.

  Cariad, the Welsh word for love. My father used to use it as a pet name for my mother. Hearing the endearment on her lips made me want to take her in my arms and carry her as far away from here as possible—as if running would help us right now. I thought back on the unknown text I got this morning: when it’s time, and you’ll know when, come see me- 7809 Pine St.

  Good thing I was a gambling man, because I’d bet good money I knew who sent that text.

  I was pulled out of my train of thought when Seline shouted that it was time for a break. Catalina yawned and made a beeline for a computer. She jiggled the mouse to wake up the screen and pulled the Post-it note from her pocket. This was about to get interesting.

  I wandered behind her, half obscured by a stack of plastic totes, and watched the screen. She typed it into the search bar and scrolled through the results, clicking on a simple translation link. That was better; it would give her the simple answer.

  “Love,” she said to herself, tapping her pen against the desk. “Origin, origin, origin…”

  And this was what I was afraid of.

  “Welsh?” she said, sitting up a little straighter in her chair.

  I turned my back to her and pretended to rummage through my bag. It was practically empty, though, so I couldn’t keep up the charade for long.

  “Hey, you,” she said, coming to stand next to me.

  “Hey, yourself,” I answered, offering her the Froot Loops I’d pulled from my bag. “Want some?” She gave the bag a cursory glance, and her eyes lit up.

  “These are one of my favorites,” she said, taking a handful.

  “Mine, too. I have a weakness for cereal.”

  For a moment, I thought she forgot why she came over to me. As I thought it, though, she seemed to come to her senses.

  “Where did you say you were from?”

  “Wales,” I answered.

  “And do you speak Welsh?” she asked. She seemed nervous—extremely nervous. I had to admit that it was bloody adorable.

  “Ydw dwi yn. Yn rhugl ,” I replied. Yes, I do. Fluently.

  She sucked in a deep breath before exhaling slowly.

  “I’m
assuming that’s a yes,” she replied, her voice was full of the smile she was trying so hard to hide. “I’m also assuming that means that you knew what this meant?”

  “Yes,” I answered. She was very thorough with her questioning. The cop was probably rubbing off on her.

  “Did you happen to say it to me when I passed out?” she asked.

  I said it a lot while you were passed out. “No, it’s not really a term you toss around.”

  “I thought the term ‘love’ was used often there?” She had shifted and was now looking directly at me, those beautiful blue eyes piercing me.

  “It is,” I replied, “but not this way. Cariad, while it means love, you wouldn’t use it to say, ‘I love Froot Loops.’ That would be ‘Rwy'n caru Froot Loops.’ Cariad is more like darling, sweetheart, love of my life, soul mate.” Shut up, bloody git. Stop talking. “Along those lines.”

  “Hmm…” Her eyes seemed to burn a hole right through me. “Any idea how I know this word?”

  “Not a one,” I replied. She wasn’t convinced; I was sure of that. I was going to have to take a couple of steps back. She was getting a little too close to the truth a little too fast.

  Lina 11

  He was lying. That was what I sensed earlier, the guilt and paranoia that came with lying. It was so obvious, too. I was awful at reading people, and I could read him like a book. Why lie about something like that? It felt like something was trying to break that wall in my mind down with a battering ram. Every second I spent with Telor, that wall was coming closer and closer to tumbling down.

  When lunchtime came around, I was sure to find Telor before he could change his mind. We walked to Goodfella’s in silence—not awkward silence, just silence. He seemed to take everything in, looking at things a little longer than most people did.

  What he seemed to enjoy looking at most was me. He didn’t openly gawk, but I could feel his eyes on me when I looked away. Each time I chanced a glance at him, he averted his gaze back to the sidewalk. Despite the slightly creepy factor of it, I couldn’t resist smiling, just a little.