But as we step closer, I recognize the familiar face, the knowing eyes behind the black glasses, the shape of his strong jawline and broad shoulders. The crinkle of his smile, only with a few more wrinkles at the edges. The dark-brown hair now peppered with gray.

The man standing there is Adam.

Future-Adam.

07:48

07:48

I glance back and forth between the two Adams, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. Future-Adam must be in his late forties by now, but still looks so much like his younger self. And it’s more than just how they look—it’s the way they stand, their voices, the expressions on their faces. Even their flexis are the same, both clear and without decoration.

I shouldn’t be surprised—of course Future-Adam would be here. He’d know exactly where we would be at any given moment because he’d lived it himself. But I don’t know what his presence here means. Is he going to reveal my secret? Can he help us change the future?

“I heard you’re looking for me.” Future-Adam stares back at his younger self for a moment before sweeping his gaze across the rest of us. His eyes seem to linger on me, but maybe I’m imagining things. “Get in the car and I’ll explain everything.”

None of us move. Adam just stares at his older self, while Trent keeps muttering “dude” over and over.

“Well, you wanted to talk to him…” Chris says, glancing at Adam.

“I know.” He adjusts his glasses, which I’ve noticed he does whenever he’s nervous, and turns to me with questioning eyes.

For a minute I debate telling Adam and the others that we should turn around and leave. To forget Future-Adam and try to figure this out on our own. My motive for doing so is purely selfish—I want to protect my secret, and Future-Adam could reveal it at any moment. But I need answers, and he might be the only one to give them to us. And maybe the others should learn the truth about who killed them. They deserve to know.

I’m just not sure what they’ll do to me once they find out.

“You guys coming or what?” Future-Adam asks. “I know you want to get out of this rain. And don’t worry about that whole paradox thing—that’s obviously not true.”

“It’ll be fine,” I say to Adam, trying to sound certain. “It’s you, after all.”

Adam nods, but he doesn’t look convinced. We start walking toward the car, but Future-Adam holds up a hand to stop us. “Hang on,” he says. “Take your flexis off and dump them in the trash over there.”

“Huh?” Trent asks.

“Your flexis. The police can track you through them.”