“We are never going to get through that door,” I finally said, so softly I wasn’t even sure if Regan had heard me.

“We have to,” she said. “And we both know that we do, or we wouldn’t be standing here. All of the bullet points have been spot on so far, this one will be too.”

“Bullet point number four said to trust that the door would open when it needed to. It didn’t say what door. What if this isn’t the door?” I said.

“Well.” Regan shrugged. “Let’s hope this is the door.”

“Future us are not my favorite people,” I said. “In fact, we stink.”

Regan covered her mouth to muffle her surprised snort as she turned to me, the intensity of her face lifting for a brief second. “What?” she said.

“We do,” I said, gesturing toward the door. “How hard would it have been to include the door combination and a key in that stupid letter?”

“Not hard,” Regan admitted. “Except we’d also need Callaway’s hand, and I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty thankful I didn’t find that.”

“Didn’t find what?” said a voice behind us, and we both jumped and whirled to see Callaway emerge from the shadows like a ghost. We were busted.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Regan

“What are you doing here?” I asked. My voice sounded remarkably calm for someone whose heart was making a very solid attempt to escape her chest.

“Funny,” Callaway said, “I was about to ask you the same thing.” When neither of us said anything, he sighed. “Except I have a very good guess why you’re here. You want to change the past.”

“I’m confused,” Elliot said. “That’s illegal.”

“And there’s the rub,” Callaway said. He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “That simple fact is one that everyone in this mountain has known for their entire lives, but the minute the history we have the power to change is our own, they think rules go up in smoke. Poof.”

“But,” I said as Callaway held up a hand for silence.

“While I appreciate your unique loss in all this, Regan, I would like to remind you that everyone in this mountain has suffered an excruciating loss today, and your mother would be the first one to tell you that protocol can’t be thrown out the window.” Before I could respond, there was the sound of heavy boot steps behind us, and like the partner team we were, Elliot and I whirled as one to see someone coming out of the shadows.

“Officer Salzburg,” Callaway said. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”