Adam sits in the backseat with me, and every time I sneak a glance at him, he gives me a hint of a smile. I don’t know what this thing is between us now, but opening up to Adam has unlocked something inside me, freeing something I didn’t know was caged. I’m not in this alone anymore. Together, we’ll change our future.

I slide my hand down my leg until it brushes the back of his thigh. He tenses, but then I feel his fingers wrap around mine. We stare forward with our hands secretly locked between us, the rest of the car oblivious to the fire racing up my arm and spreading through my entire body.

It’s finally stopped raining by the time we reach Lynne’s house in Malibu. Her place is at the end of a little cul-de-sac that butts right up against the ocean. It’s not as big as Adam’s house, more like a large beach cottage with a sandblasted look, as though the wind and salt water have worn the paint down to almost nothing.

The door opens the second we pull into the driveway, like she’s been waiting for us. Lynne stands on the porch, and you can barely tell any years have passed from the Lynne of our time. Her hair is almost exactly the same—maybe a little shorter but with the same blond highlights. She has wrinkles around her eyes but not as many as you’d expect considering it’s been thirty years. I wonder if she’s had some work done.

“Oh my God.” She covers her mouth with her hand, shock etched on her face. “Adam said it was today, but I guess I never truly believed it until now.”

“He told you we were coming?” I ask.

“Yes. I’ve been waiting all day for you.” She stares at each of us in turn, like she can’t believe she’s not in a dream. “I always knew the accelerator worked, but to see real proof right in front of me…I’m sorry. Please, please come inside.”

We follow her into a brightly lit living room that smells faintly of cinnamon, with a view of the beach from her floor-to-ceiling windows. Seeing the dark water crash against the shore only feet away brings back the image of my body lying on the sand, half submerged by the waves. I shudder and turn away.

“Can I get you anything?” Lynne asks. “Something to drink or eat or…?”

“Coffee would be nice,” Trent says with a yawn.

“Of course. You poor things, you must be cold and exhausted. Just give me a minute.”

She disappears into her kitchen, and we spread out around her white-and-blue furniture. She’s taken the beach theme a little far, with seashells on the table and a dolphin sculpture in the corner. Even her flexi has a little orange starfish on it.