I was distracted from my thoughts by the other Elliot and Regan. The past version of us came barreling around the corner, bickering and insulting one another like it was our professional career. Even through the smudged window, I could see the look of pure revulsion Regan had on her face as I followed her down the hall, harassing her for all I was worth. Why had I done that? I wondered. Did I really think it made me look better to put her down?

“Man, you were a jerk,” Regan muttered, and I turned to smile at her.

“Were?” I said. “As in, I’m not anymore?”

Regan rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Well,” she said. “You aren’t a grade-A jerk anymore. Maybe a grade B or C.”

“First time I’ve been glad not to get an A,” I mused as we watched past Elliot spot the letter that would change everything.

“Just for the record,” I said, “you’re better now too.”

“What do you mean?” she said.

“I mean you used to walk around the Academy like some kind of princess surveying her kingdom. Like you couldn’t be bothered to learn anyone’s name or care about anyone but yourself.”

“Really?” Regan said, wrinkling her nose in a way I used to think made her look like a bulldog. I decided not to mention that.

“Really,” I said.

“That must have been obnoxious,” she said, and I snorted quietly. Together we turned our attention back to the versions of us I barely recognized anymore.

“This is so weird,” Regan said.

“Unbelievably weird,” I agreed. “But that seems to be the theme of our lives ever since we became partners.”

“Do you regret it?” she asked, jerking her chin toward the building where the past version of me was just now bending down to pick up the letter.

I shook my head. “Not even for a second.” I reached out to grab her hand and was about to hit the button on the cuffs that would return us to the present when she grabbed my arm to stop me.

“What is it now?” I asked, but instead of saying anything, she just raised an eyebrow and held out her arms as she did a slow spin. When I just stared at her uncomprehendingly, she sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Seriously?” she said. “Did you forget that we are wearing Alcatraz prison uniforms?”

“Oh,” I said, because, stupidly, I had. “We should probably take those off.”

“Ya think?” Regan said, already pulling hers over her head to reveal her rather sweaty pajamas underneath. I did the same thing, wadding the dirty uniform up into a ball. Regan took it and shoved it unceremoniously into the perfectly trimmed shrubbery next to us.

“What are you doing?” I said. “We can’t leave them here.”

“Why not?” Regan said as she shoved her uniform in after mine. “Who’s going to look in the past for evidence?”