That had been three years ago. They were never seen again. Investigators assumed bandits had killed his parents—but Jake knew that wasn’t true. He knew there was more to their story, and it continued in Pangaea.

Three months ago, Jake and his sister, Kady, had been accidentally transported to that savage, prehistoric land. They’d made friends, survived a war, and, in the end, discovered a cryptic clue to the true fate of their parents.

In his mind’s eye, Jake returned to the prehistoric valley of Calypsos and walked again into the great Temple of Kukulkan, past its crystal heart, and down to the inner vault that held a vast Mayan calendar wheel made of gold. He pictured again discovering his father’s pocket watch abandoned in the gears of those mighty wheels. He had memorized the words his mother had inscribed on the back.

To my beloved Richard,

A bit of gold to mark our tenth revolution

around the sun together.

With all the love under the stars,

Penelope

It had been an anniversary gift. But as many times as Jake walked that path in his head, he still found no answers. What did the watch mean? Were his mother and father still alive? Were they lost in time?

Jake didn’t know.

All he knew was that he had to find out the truth.

Even now, standing barefoot in the street in his martial arts uniform, his fingers tightened into a fist of determination. He no longer had the patience to wait here. His mountain bike was parked a block away. Right now, all he wanted to do was get back home.

As Jake turned to tell his friend he was leaving, a gangly man burst from the crowd, fell upon Brandon, and scooped him into a bear hug.

“Son, are you okay?”

Whatever response Brandon had was buried in his father’s chest. Jake could see the clear resemblance in the pair: the dark eyes, the black hair. Sometimes Jake held up that last photo of his parents and compared it to his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He had his father’s height and sandy hair but his mother’s blue eyes and small nose. Staring into the mirror offered him a bit of comfort, a way to bring them both closer in a small way.

Jake continued to watch father and son hug. He could not look away from such raw affection. Grief and longing burned through him, tempered by a cold vein of jealousy. He knew it wasn’t fair to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it.

Brandon broke from his father’s embrace, his face pinched with worry. “Jake, if you want, my dad can drive you home, too.”

Jake retreated two steps and shook his head. He had to swallow hard to clear his throat. “I … I’ve got my bike.”

“Son,” Brandon’s father said to Jake, “it’s no trouble.”

Jake bristled at the casual use of the word son. The man was not his father.