you for making up pancakes, Marion. I didn’t think you knew they were my favorite.”
“Oh, I only cooked them. The batter was already pre-made in the refrigerator.”
The floor slipped out beneath her and she reached to grip the countertop. “Come again?” she asked, the blood draining from her face.
“I said it was already prepared in the fridge… I thought you knew. After all you had to be the one who made it.”
“I didn’t make that,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Oh, come on, dear. I’m sure your memory is just sketchy due to what happened to you last night.”
“My memory is better than it has ever been. All of the holes have been filled. All of the fake stuff has been removed.”
Now it was their turn to go as white as sheets. Marion’s hands started shaking and since she was holding the bacon plate, she almost lost the bacon on the floor.
“I told you not to tell her,” Finley said, disapproval evident in his voice.
“Don’t blame Oliver for what I did. He had to tell me. I had a very disturbing dream this morning and he was scared it was going to destroy me.”
“You mean you spent the night together?” Marion asked as a slow smile enveloped her face. “Good for you, honey. If I was forty years younger I’d go for him too. He’s absolutely delicious.”
“Hey now.” Nicholas looked offended and hurt. “Forty years ago, you went for me, so you just remember that, Marion, my dear.”
Oliver was, by now, a bright shade of tomato red.
“I’m actually surprised about how you’re dealing with the revelation of what happened to Bryony. You seem remarkably calm,” Finley stated.
Dallas shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms. “I’m calm on the outside but going insane on the inside. There’s nothing else for me to do. For now, I have to bide my time and think about my options,” she declared, settling herself on the empty stool next to Oliver.
Her mind was racing out of control. Her window had been open, the pancake batter had been in the fridge. Her gaze went to the freshly picked lavender and that was when she lost it. She jumped off the stool and ran into to the hallway. She let out a yelp when she saw her mother’s straw hat and gloves sitting on one of the hall tables.
“What the hell is going on here?” she asked aloud. She spun around and slammed right into Oliver.
“What gives?” he asked, looking beyond her into the front entryway.
“Am I still asleep?” She reached out and pinched Oliver on the arm, hard enough to make him wince.
He drew in a sharp breath. “I think you’re supposed to pinch yourself not me, Dallas,” he said. She could see he was attempting to maintain his control, and the fact that he hadn’t gotten too angry with her spoke of his good character.
“If I’m awake, you explain to me why I’m seeing everything that was in my dream. The hat and gloves are there, the pancake batter was in the fridge and the window was mysteriously open, and that lavender didn’t put itself in the vase. These are all things my mother must have done in my dream, and yet they are now, spilling over into my real life. That hat and those gloves were packed away and stored in the attic. How the hell did they get down here? I can’t do anything like that with my magic and I know you didn’t do it, so who did?”
Marion stepped into the hallway with them and cleared her throat. “I don’t want to interrupt you two lovebirds, but the breakfast is ready so come and join us before it gets cold,” she said, starting back into the kitchen.
“Marion, wait. You dealt with strange occurrences in the magical world while you were a special agent. Have you ever heard of another possible timeline mingling with the timeline that is unfolding before our eyes?” Dallas asked anxiously.
Marion’s posture stiffened. “I don’t think we should be discussing anything that might have been, Dallas. You can’t do anything to stop what happened to your mother. You and I know the only possible way to do that would be—”
“To open a window in time, I know. And I know what I’ve promised my mother, but I have to consider my options.”
“You shouldn’t consider any of the options rolling around in your head. Playing with the timeline could have irreversible consequences. Meddling with it could cause