Pale skin and a tangle of dark hair. Cleft chin. Wicked smile.

“Roman.” Dorothy threw her arms around her old friend, hugging him hard. He stiffened beneath her embrace—they’d never been the hugging type—but she couldn’t help it. Just a few days ago (Two? Three?) she’d watched him die. She’d cried for him, grieved him, and now he was here, breathing and moving and talking like none of that had happened.

Because it hadn’t happened. Not yet.

“God, you’re bad at this,” Roman said, patting her once on the back before pulling away.

“What do you mean?” Dorothy brushed a tear from her cheek, trying to pretend she was just scratching an itch. Roman lifted an eyebrow. He seemed to be trying very hard not to roll his eyes.

“Come on. You are clearly here from the future, and you’re hardly keeping a low profile.” He dragged a hand back through his hair, sighing. “Are you trying to get caught? Is that part of whatever plan you’ve come up with?”

Dorothy’s mouth felt very dry. “How did you—”

“How did I know? You’re kidding, right? The Dorothy from this timeline was just outside of my room, dressed in a completely different outfit, listening at my door.”

Dorothy felt her cheeks grow warm, remembering how he’d caught her listening outside his door less than a week ago. And she’d thought she was being sneaky . . .

“I was following you,” Roman continued, dark eyes narrowing. “Or, at least, I was trying to. Before I could catch up, I found future you out here making googly eyes at your ex-boyfriend.” He flapped a hand at her, nose wrinkling. “Not exactly what I would call keeping a low profile.”

“I was hardly making googly eyes,” Dorothy muttered.

“And then there’s the way you attacked me just now, and how you’re looking at me like I’m Lazarus risen from the dead.” Roman made an attempt at his normally charming smile, but he wasn’t quite able to pull it off. There was a troubled look in his eyes, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “So, then. Have I died? Is that why you seem so happy to see me?”

Oh, he was good. Dorothy hadn’t been expecting him to come out and ask so boldly. She opened her mouth but found that she couldn’t come up with the words to answer him.

Should she tell him the truth? According to the note he’d left for her, he’d already seen his own death, so he knew it was coming. Her fingers twitched as she pictured him lying in the dirt, eyes wide and unseeing.