The wind picks up, tangling my hair in front of my face. Adam brushes it back, staring into my eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re pretty cute with those glasses too.” As soon as I say it, I realize I’m the girl Future-Adam was referring to earlier in the day. Adam’s eyes widen and he laughs, and I know he remembers that moment too.

He wraps an arm around me, and I lean against him as we watch the fishermen. Adam doesn’t recoil from my touch, doesn’t run away or look at me like I’m a monster. I can’t believe he would accept me, knowing what’s in my past and what I have the potential to become tomorrow—but somehow he does.

17:30

17:30

We return to Future-Adam’s house and spread our supplies across his massive kitchen island. An assortment of cleaning products. Baking soda and sugar. A party-sized bag of ice. I lean against the counter and try to imagine what we’ll use them for but come up blank.

“Now what?” Chris asks.

Adam takes off his jacket and hangs it on the back of a chair. “Now we put those chemistry classes to good use.”

“Uh, I failed chemistry,” Trent says.

“That’s okay. We’ll need your cooking skills too.”

Over the next hour, Adam puts all of us to work. With Trent, he makes smoke bombs by cooking sugar and baking soda in a skillet with some other chemicals. This makes a smooth, brown mixture that they form into little round blobs and bake in the oven like cookie dough.

Meanwhile, Adam and Chris make chloroform using the cleaning products and all of the ice we bought. They work so fast I can barely keep up, but Zoe and I assist them with whatever they need, providing an extra hand or bringing them more supplies. In the downtime, we sketch a map of the building’s lobby and sixth floor, using my memory and her drawing skills to create a rough estimate of the layout.

When we’re finished, we have eight caramel-colored blobs and five wet rags doused in chloroform. Adam swears they’ll all work. I just hope it will be enough to get us inside.

I check my watch. “We still have a few hours before we meet Lynne. We should get some sleep.”

“Not sure I can sleep,” Chris says. “I’m too amped up.”

“Me too.” Trent says, but he yawns. “Okay, maybe sleep does sound pretty good.”

We split up and shuffle off to different bedrooms. Adam and I lock eyes, and without a word, he slips his fingers into mine. We don’t speak as we walk down the hallway and find an empty room with a queen-sized bed, then shut the door.

I remove my jacket and slip off my shoes. My clothes are still damp underneath, as are Adam’s. There’s no way we can sleep in them.