“Bandit was supposed to be the easy choice.” I get up from the sofa, shoving my hands into my hair. “He was supposed to be just a student at school. A guy I barely knew. But that was before I traveled to the future. Before I understood how much he’ll mean to me. Before I learned the truth.”

She shivers, as though glad she doesn’t have to make the decision. “Do you agree with what your older self has concluded?”

“I don’t know. Once, I would’ve deferred every important decision to her. I thought, falsely, that just because she was older, she was also wiser. But I’ve seen her heart.” I stalk the circumference of the cheerful room. The brightly colored walls do nothing to assuage my uneasiness. “The organ that beats in her chest is as black and hard as a lump of coal. There’s no life left. No hope. How can I trust someone like that to make the right choice?”

I turn back to Cristela. “The future was right about one thing. I need to figure this out for myself. And I won’t be able to do that until I see Bandit. Where is he?”

She frowns. “A minute after you closed your eyes, he bolted straight up, muttered something, and ran out of the room. I assumed he went to the bathroom.”

We look out the double french doors.

“I’m sure he’ll be back,” she says unconvincingly. “I mean, where would he go?”

My heart leaps into my throat. What am I doing? Why am I standing here, talking to Cristela, when Bandit’s been gone for entire minutes?

Something’s wrong. It has to be. He wouldn’t have just left. He would’ve wanted to know if my trip to the future was successful.

Anxiety strums through my veins, and I stride out the door. Cristela hurries after me. I check behind every door in the hall, and she slips past me to the two-story foyer.

“Bandit!” she bellows up the stairs. “Where are you?”

No response. There’s no one inside the orderly office, the walk-in closet, or the flowery powder room, either.

Cristela and I meet where the hardwood joins textured stone tiles. “Does he like to wander around houses?” Her nail scratch-scratch-scratches at her thumb.

“I don’t think so,” I say, although the truth is, I’m not familiar with his habits. All I know is that one day, we’ll be soul mates.

Unless I kill him first.

I dart my gaze from the thick wood banister to the wedding-cake chandelier. It lands on the stained-glassed windows…and then my heart stops.

“Um, Cristela?” I say faintly. “I don’t think Bandit got lost on his way to the bathroom. His car is gone.”