I don’t know. And I don’t know if I want to.

I keep looking around. Maybe this is the place to find the wormhole. Squeezing my eyes shut, I sketch all the details of my brother’s costume that I can remember—his baseball cap that covered his short dark hair, the jersey that hung down past his waist because it belonged to my dad, his white pants with navy stripes.

I imagine a swirling hole opening up right in front of me. Stepping into it, I’ll travel back to that night. I’ll talk to my brother. Twelve-year-old Parker will listen to me.

I mean, I think he would.

Maybe if I could just talk to him then, if only for ten minutes, I would be able to change everything, and then when I stepped back through the wormhole I would be here, and everything would be the same, but also really different, because Parker wouldn’t have hurt anyone. And Mabel and everyone else would still be alive, Cora and I would still be friends. Maybe this whole time I’ve been thinking that the wormhole needs to be this long mission, but it could be short, and it could work. Maybe—

There’s a tap on my shoulder. “Quinn?”

I jump and open my eyes. There’s no wormhole. My heart sinks. When I turn around, I see Ainsley and she’s dressed in her team uniform. She’s added bows to the top of her shin-guard socks.

“Cool costume,” I say.

She shrugs. “I figured since I’m working the booth.”

Her hair is in a waterfall braid. I bet Scarlett’s mom did it. I touch my own tangled mess and wonder if I’m able to fix things when I come back, I’ll also be wearing a team uniform and have a hairdo by Scarlett’s mom.

We stare at each other awkwardly.

“Your banner looks nice.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Sooo . . .” she says. “Have you checked out any of the booths? I’m thinking about joining recycling club in the spring. I think it might be fun.”

I know I should say something nice like Yeah, that does sound fun, or That’s an important cause, but my brain feels like stones skipping over water.

“Have you seen Cora?”

Ainsley’s face twists up into an even more awkward expression than before. “Wait. Are you guys still friends?”

The uncertainty of how to answer rattles in my chest. I play around with a couple of answers, but then I picture the giant oak tree—my giant oak tree, our giant oak tree, and I see that glowing door that I know is there if I can just make it appear—and I open my mouth and say, “Yes.”

Then I take off to find her.

Thirty-One

Cora

Here are some facts about thunder:

It is caused by the sudden increase in pressure and temperature that lightning produces.

Therefore, thunder does not exist without lightning.

In ancient times, people believed that thunder was the sound of gods stomping around. Or something like that.