Time's Edge

The creek winds through dense woods, so you can’t see the bridge from here. But a truck limping on its rims isn’t exactly silent. A clanking, thumping noise comes from that direction just as Kiernan props our motorbikes against a tree.

I crouch down beside the creek and bring up our stable point near the road. As I predicted, Saul didn’t bother changing the tire, at least not yet. The truck limps down the road. Grant is in the truck and appears either dead or comatose, because he doesn’t stir at all, despite the fact that his head bumps the passenger-side window every few seconds.

Once they pass, I scan the road for the next twenty minutes, skipping forward in ten-second increments. There’s no indication that Saul turns back. That doesn’t mean he isn’t parked a mile or so up the road, changing the tire.

When I look up from the medallion, Martha is watching me, her head cocked to one side.

“You prayin’?”

“Umm . . . sort of.”

“Is that some kinda rosary? Miz Carey’s sister, when she was visitin’, she had a rosary. But hers had beads.”

“It’s not a rosary,” Kiernan says. “Listen, Martha, we need to explain some things.”

“That’s okay. I figured it out when Miss Kate disappeared back there. Did Sister Elba know?”

“Did she know what?” I ask.

“That y’all were angels?” Judging from her expression, if she were born a century later, she’d have added the word duh. “I’m guessin’ she didn’t, just like she didn’t know what he was either. I loved her an’ all, but Sister trusted almost ever’body. Maybe if she’d’a been a little more suspicious . . .”

“Maybe,” I say. “But that would have made her a very different person. And Martha, it wouldn’t have mattered. She couldn’t have stopped Saul.”

“So this is one of those things that was . . .” She pauses, like she’s trying to remember the word. “Predestined? Like my mama and daddy dyin’ so young?”

I glance up at Kiernan, and he just gives me a shrug. It seems wrong to let her think we’re some sort of divine messengers, but it’s a lot easier than explaining. And here in 1911, saying she’s seen angels is less likely to get her locked in a padded room than the truth, if she ever decides to tell anyone.

“There are some things we can’t change,” I tell her, thinking of Sister Elba’s last words to me. “We just have to find a way to go on when those things happen, so we’re ready to change the things we can later on down the line.”

“Why me?” she asks, her voice suddenly angry. “Why’d you save me? I was darn close to not believin’ at all, and that church was full of folks who praised God all day long. Even Jack and Vern . . .”

Her body starts shaking, and the tears that have been near the surface spill over her cheeks. I wrap my arms around her and hold her as she cries, because it’s all I can do. Because I don’t have the answers she needs. Kiernan just watches us, and I can tell he’s feeling the same helplessness that I do.

Her tears eventually stop, and Martha pulls away, then leans back toward me, her fingertips brushing my face.

“I didn’t know angels cried.”

Part of me screams out that she deserves the truth, and Kiernan must be watching, because he steps in just before I break.

“Sometimes angels do cry,” he says. “We don’t get to make the decisions, you know. Just doin’ what we’re told. And as for why we saved you, you just need to believe that there was a reason, okay? You may not see it yet, but maybe you’ll do great things—or maybe it’s your son or your granddaughter or great-great-great-granddaughter.”

She laughs a little at that, but it’s a worried laugh. “I don’t even know where I’m go

“If you were meant to get out of God’s Hollow alive,” he says, “I don’t think you’re meant to die of starvation on the streets. I’ll help you. I know a family that I’m pretty sure I can convince to take you in for a few years, until you’re ready to be off on your own. But listen, this whole angel thing—it needs to be our secret, okay?”

Martha nods solemnly. “Y’all don’ need to worry about that. Ain’t no one go

∞17∞

There are only two bikes, so I say goodbye to Martha and jump directly to Katherine’s library, where Co

I stay in the shower much longer than usual, scrubbing every inch of my body until my skin is pink and my scalp is sore. I still can’t say I feel completely clean, but that’s probably because the shower can’t wash away the images in my head.

Co

I grab my phone from the charger on the counter and check my messages. There’s a call from Mom, which I expected, given that it was my first day back at school. A text from Charlayne came in twenty minutes ago, and that’s something I definitely wasn’t expecting. We exchanged numbers after English class, in case we had homework questions or whatever, but I’m surprised to get a message so soon. More evidence that I’m being played, no doubt. Still, I click to open it.

Ur profile is lame.

At first, I have no idea what she’s talking about. Then I remember Trey shared some photos on Facebook and I set up an account to access them. I didn’t even post a profile picture, so it’s just that blank girl head where my face would be.

I text back: Don’t do FB much. You?

There’s a pause, and then she responds: Can’t have FB account. Mom said yes. Dad said no. As usual. I’m on WayBook. So-called Cyrist equiv.

After a few seconds, she adds: Do you have page numbers for Miller txt?

I respond that I’ll check when I get up to my room. And then I call Dad.

I’m so glad that he picks up, because he’s the only person I want to talk to right now.

“You okay?” he asks. “Because you don’t sound okay.”

“I’ve been better.” I spend the next few minutes filling him in about the past two days, and I end up in tears.

“Your grandpa is stable now, Kate. Maybe I should come home.”

“Dad, no. It’s okay.”

There’s a long silence, and then he says, “I’m still trying to get past the idea of you with a gun. Where did you . . .”

“Kiernan. Once my hand stopped shaking, I discovered that I’m actually a decent shot.”

“Apparently, since you put a hole in Saul’s arm rather than his head. I know it’s probably not much consolation, Kate, but at least you were able to save one person. That’s something for the positive column, right?”

Co

“Katherine and Co

“Katherine is. Not sure about Co

Co

“Listen, Dad—I’m okay. Talking helped. Stay with Grandma Keller. She needs you more than I do right now. I love you—and I’ll call you back later, okay?”

“What are you not sure about Co

“If you’re angry that we saved Martha.”