nut bunny. Oh good. How was I going to get out of here without—
“Maddy? Your middle name. What does it mean?” he asked, speaking slowly like he was trying to talk me off a ledge.
“I don’t know,” I muttered, looking at the family tree and seeing nothing but that name.
“In Welsh it means genuine and your last name, Niteclif, is a Welsh derivative of detective. It’s a play on words. You are, quite literally, a genuine detective.” He paused searching my face for reaction. “I’ll ask again. Do you understand?”
“Understand?” I looked up at him. The family tree drifted from my fingers to the floor. Let him down gently, I thought to myself, but the words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself. “Understand what, Bahlin? That you’re off your medications? That the men from your cinder block institution are looking for you? That I understand. This—” I waved my hand at the fallen family tree, “—this is nonsense. I cannot be related to a fictional character—”
“Whose stories were based on the real life of your great-grandfather.”
I got up and began pacing the small area from the bed to the front door, nine strides forward and nine strides back. I never considered I could just leave once I reached the door. I was overwhelmed with this information, hungry for any sense of belonging now that my parents were dead. My parents… I spun to face Bahlin. “Did my mom and dad know?”
“Your father knew, as you’re a direct descendant on his side. I spoke to him shortly before his death about disclosing your relation to Aloysius and its implications for your future. Your mother, as a genealogist, suspected something was off kilter in your history. But your father said they had never discussed it.”
“There wasn’t time,” I whispered. No time before they died. My heart ached. I missed them so much. And I wanted to talk to my dad now, to find out if this unknown man’s wild claims held even a grain of truth. I was so hungry for family that a small part of me hoped he was being truthful. He claimed he was a connection to a past I thought I had lost, someone who could share the sound of my father’s voice with me.
Bahlin stood and walked slowly toward me, treating me like a skittish horse, hands out to show he was harmless, movements slow and precise, eye contact steady but non-threatening. I stopped, staring at him.
“Maddy?” he asked. “Are you okay?”
I held up a hand toward him, palm out and fingers pointed up in the universal sign for stop, and he did. “No, I’m not okay. This is cruel. You’re not well, Bahlin—” I began, but he interrupted me. Again.
“Maddy, this is all true. I swear it.”
“Stop. Interrupting. Me.”
“I apologize. Go on with your previous thought,” Bahlin said, shoving his hands in his front pockets. He looked contrite. Apparently he was going to let me work this out on my own. He sat on the edge of the bed nearest my current position, which was standing close to the bathroom door.
I rolled my shoulders, then returned my thoughts to the family tree. “If I’m a direct descendant of a fictional character—albeit one whose stories were based on fact—what does that make me?”
“Maddy, what have you done since you came here?” Bahlin’s eyes burned with curiosity. He shifted on the bed, drawing one knee up so he could turn to face me.
“I’ve rented a car, driven to Stonehenge… Stonehenge. I made a wish, a wish that my reality would be altered…” Surely not. I mean, seriously, I made a wish as in star light, star bright, that kind of thing.
“You wished for an altered reality, sweetheart, and you got it.” Bahlin looked almost sympathetic. He didn’t move, but sat there watching me work out the details of what I’d done.
“So my wish, it changed everything?” I wracked my brain, thinking back to the stone circle and the compelling need to wish for a changed reality. I remembered the spinning night sky and the wind breathing a strange phrase through my mind. Could it mean…surely not.
“No, the wish didn’t change everything,” he said, standing and moving toward me.
I stood there, too overwhelmed with all of the information to move. He came close enough that he reached out and traced my jaw with his fingertip.
“Your wish made your old reality fade or, more accurately, become transparent, thereby revealing your direct relation to that most famous