His eyes sharpen, assessing me as thoroughly as a scientific equation. “Do you?”

I wet my lips. It’s a weird question. Why would he question my loyalty? And why now, when he never has before?

“Of course,” I say. “I’ve been rooting for you since the day I was born.”

But he’s already taken off, weaving deftly among the tables.

I stare after his retreating figure. He’ll be okay. He always is.

At least, that’s what I used to think. But maybe I’ve been wrong. Maybe this fissure between him and Zeke is more serious than I thought.

But I can’t worry about him right now. I’ve left Dad alone for entirely too long. I need to get back before he does something stupid—like get in a fistfight with the man who will help the Maker invent the virus.

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

When I get back to the table, however, Dad’s no longer there. Where did he go? I was only gone for a minute! I look around wildly, prepared to slide across the floor, leg-swiping anyone who gets in my way, if it means preventing a meeting between Dad and Charlie. But I don’t see either him or his bushy-haired ex-friend.

Maybe it’s just as well. The Black Widow I am not. No matter how much I admire Natasha’s red hair. Or her black jumpsuit. Or her badass moves. I’d as likely knock over the chocolate fondue, which would just be embarrassing (and sticky).

I’m about to go search for Dad when my attention is caught on the sad cupcake pieces strewn across the table. Bites, big and small, have decimated the spirals that once stood so proudly. Only crumbs remain, with splotches of buttercream frosting flung here and there.

Sighing, I pick up the only intact cupcake, the one with the shiny pearls I photographed, and bring it to my mouth.

Before I can take a bite, however, electricity flashes across my brain.

“Don’t eat the cupcake!” the Voice screeches.

I startle so hard, I nearly drop the dessert in question. “Did you really travel across ten years to scare the crap out of me with dietary advice?”

“You’re such a brat sometimes, you know that?” the Voice snaps. “I don’t know how I’ve made it this far without wringing my own neck.”

Oh. So it’s this version of my older self tonight. The ragey one. “Calm down, jeez. I was just kidding.”

“Do you have any idea how condescending that is?” she asks. “You don’t know what I’m going through. You can’t even begin to guess what’s happening in the future. So do not tell me to calm down!”

An electric jolt zaps my brain. It’s not a signal of her arrival but a punishment for my quip.