You save him, Dorothy reminded herself, when the sound of Ash’s screaming became too much to bear. You take him away from here.

Patience.

And then, finally—footsteps. Dorothy sat up straighter, pulling her legs to her chest so she wouldn’t be seen. She didn’t dare breathe, didn’t dare move.

There was a knock on the door. And then hinges creaking and the sound of Eliza’s voice. “Mac is busy right now. What do you need?”

Dorothy rose to her hands and knees and peered around the corner. She saw herself, as she’d been four days ago, standing in the hallway next to Roman.

Dorothy tilted her head, unable to look away. She was shorter than she realized. She barely came up to Roman’s shoulders. Her hair was tangled and limp, and her boots and cloak were splattered with mud. Dorothy knew this was because she and Roman had spent the day going back in time again and again, in the rain, trying to save his sister’s life. A lump formed in her throat at the memory. It had been a difficult day, and it was only going to get worse. In just a few hours, Roman would die. Mac would take her hostage. Her gang would turn on her, and she would learn that Ash had gone missing.

The outcome couldn’t be changed, but everything leading up to it could be, she thought.

Did that matter? She didn’t know.

Her own voice echoed down the hall, interrupting her thoughts.

“Those are new,” she said. Dorothy watched as her past self eyed Eliza’s boots suspiciously.

Eliza only grinned. “Mac asked me to do him a favor.”

“You’re working for Mac now?” Roman asked.

“Don’t look so surprised. You were the one who gave me the idea,” Eliza said. “Or don’t you remember our conversation back at the Dead Rabbit?”

A choked scream issued from inside the hotel room. Dorothy dug her fingers into the hotel carpet.

The outcome can’t be changed, she thought. There had to be some way to use that to her advantage.

Her past self was staring at the door, suspicious. “Who’s in there?”

“No one you need concern yourself with,” snapped Eliza.

The Dorothy of four days ago removed a long, thin dagger from her sleeve and held it up to the light.

“Do you know how much pressure it takes to rupture an eardrum?” she asked. “I don’t know, myself, but I hear people used to do it by accident, with hairpins and cotton swabs. Imagine the damage this could do.”

Eliza stared at the blade and licked her lips. Watching from around the corner, Dorothy smiled. That moment had been fun.

Her past self said, “Tell Mac I need to speak with him now.”

Dorothy rose to a crouch, replaying the rest of the scene in her mind as it unfolded in front of her.