She took a step closer to Dorothy, her eyes narrowing even further. Her thin lips parted, but she did not speak. For a long, terrible moment, there was only silence.

Dorothy sucked a breath in through her teeth and allowed herself to be scrutinized. She tried to imagine how she must look right now, with her white hair and scarred face, the dirt and blood smudged across her skin, her trousers.

Her mother finally released a huff of air through her lips and said only, “I—I don’t understand.”

How could you? Dorothy thought. But she didn’t say that out loud. Her mother deserved an explanation, but she couldn’t think of where she might even begin. With her hair? Her scar? The fact that time travel was real?

And that was if she had time to get into any of this, which she most certainly did not.

“Mother,” Dorothy said, as calmly as she could manage, “I know this must be a terrible shock for you, but I’m afraid there’s no time to explain what’s going on. I need to find Charles at once.”

“Charles,” her mother repeated, looking dazed. She shook her head, half turning back toward the staircase. “I just saw—”

“Charles, Mother,” Dorothy cut in, frustrated now. “Where is he?”

But her mother didn’t seem to be in contact with the part of her brain capable of answering that question just now. She opened her mouth and closed it again, the lines on her forehead deepening.

Dorothy pinched her nose between two fingers. Think, she told herself. It was only a few minutes before the wedding. She was meant to be upstairs, sitting very still in her dressing room, so as not to mess up her hair or her dress as she waited for the bridal party to come fetch her.

So Charles would be . . .

Dorothy lifted her head, finding her gaze drawn down a short hallway that ended in a pair of heavy doors. Those doors led to the chapel, she knew. They’d been open while the guests were arriving, but they were closed now, which could only mean that all the guests were already here. And if the guests were all here, then Avery was . . .

Oh no, Dorothy thought, understanding crashing over her. Avery was standing at the front of the chapel next to a bleeding priest, with his entire family and all his friends seated in the pews before him. She felt her heart thrumming inside her chest and, for a moment, she thought she might be sick. If she was going to convince him to help Ash, she’d first have to walk down the aisle and fetch him. How horribly ironic.

Her mother suddenly grabbed her by the wrist. “Miss, I don’t know what sort of game you’re playing, but if you don’t leave at once, I’m afraid that I’ll have to call the authorities.”