“We aren’t supposed to allow more than one student at a time to leave the atrium,” Professor Tramble said, thankfully too distracted to notice that Elliot looked like the proverbial kid with his hand in the cookie jar. “Can you wait?”

Elliot shook his head. Professor Tramble turned to me, and I shook my head as well. Tramble sighed and motioned for us to go. “Be quick about it,” he said. I leaped out of my chair, and it tipped backward and hit the stone floor with an earsplitting bang. Everyone in the atrium jumped and turned to look at us. My face burned, and I muttered an apology and righted the chair before sheepishly following Elliot toward the bathrooms.

I was barely around the corner when Elliot grabbed me and yanked me the last few steps out of sight.

“So much for a discreet exit,” he hissed in my ear.

“You should talk,” I shot back. “You were practically twitching when you asked Tramble to use the bathroom; way to play it cool.”

“Whatever,” Elliot said, waving his hand. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Maybe,” I said. “But to be honest, I think I’m a few steps behind you. I feel like my brain stopped working the minute Callaway told us about the Academy. I’ve been sitting in that atrium stuck inside my own head, where nothing makes sense.”

“I was too,” Elliot said. “At first, but then I started thinking about how lucky we were to be here and not there, and then it all clicked into place.”

“Remember?” I said. “I’m a few steps behind. Catch me up.”

“The Cocoon,” Elliot said, his voice dropping so low I had to lean in to hear him. “This was the reason we were sent here. Not to be the worst partner team in the history of forever, but because you and I are supposed to fix this.”

“How?” I asked, wanting more than anything for what he was saying to be true. “If we travel to the past, we become criminals. You know what happens to Butterflies who get caught.”

Elliot leaned forward. “Haven’t you realized it yet? Almost all the US Glitchers who catch Butterflies are dead.”

His words brought it all home again, and I sank down to sit with my back against the wall. Elliot joined me, and we sat shoulder to shoulder in silence for a minute.

“Sorry,” Elliot finally whispered. “That was really crummy of me to say.”

“It’s the truth, though,” I said.

“Yeah. Doesn’t make it any less crummy,” Elliot said.

I turned to look at Elliot as I searched for the right words. “You were so dead set against this when we first found that letter. You swore you’d never become a Butterfly, no matter what. You lectured me over and over again about how history cannot be changed.”