“Come out, cadets, or we will be forced to come in and take you and your coconspirators down by force,” came my mother’s voice.

“Coconspirators?” I said, and then shook my head as I realized that she was talking about Tess and Eliana and the rest of the kids we’d brought to the Academy in our attempt to save it. But of course, they weren’t here, and their fate was still unknown.

“Get the Glitch programmed,” I said to Elliot, glancing around frantically until my eyes landed on a stack of white paper. I grabbed one and turned around to find Elliot holding up an eerily familiar white envelope.

“Do you remember exactly what the letter said?” he asked.

“I think so,” I said as I started writing out the letter that would change everything.

“Please, don’t forget to put the bullet point about the bomb in my pocket,” Elliot said, never taking his eyes off the computer screen in front of him.

“Cadets! We are giving you to the count of ten, and we are coming in,” yelled Callaway, and I scribbled off the last of the note. There was something about seeing that rushed bullet point list, and finally understanding why it looked that way, that sent a shiver down my spine. I was already turning to the platform when I remembered something, and whirled to write my name in big bold script across the front.

“Hurry up,” Elliot called, and I glanced up to see him tuck his own envelope in his pocket. But before I could ask him what it was, he’d hit the countdown, and I sprinted for the platform. There was a loud bang from the direction of the door, but I didn’t dare look back. I leaped the final steps and grabbed Elliot’s hand and together we Glitched back to the moment before it all began.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Elliot

I’d watched hundreds of recaps of myself, and it had never really fazed me. I’d loved analyzing my every move as I darted through history. But this? This was different.

I crouched with Regan outside the window of the simulation building and waited for the Regan and Elliot who hated one another to come around the corner and discover the letter we’d carefully placed just moments before. As it turned out, it was the second letter I’d drop in the past. The first one I’d already slipped into the campus mail slot. When Regan had asked me what I was up to, I’d been purposefully vague. Calling it the longest of long shots. To my surprise, Regan hadn’t pressed the issue. She trusted me.