“There it is,” Claire says. Greg smiles, that proud fatherly smile men give that makes me feel uncomfortable but also like I should be proud of myself.

“Long story. Should you tell him, or should I?” he asks.

“You’ve had a rough week, dear. I think you should. A little joy to add to an otherwise gloomy day.”

“And that’s why I love you so much. But this was all your idea. I think you should see it through to the end.”

“And that’s why I love you,” she responds, kissing Greg’s cheek quickly.

Claire sighs in an exasperated way that shows she’s conceding, even though she has more fight in her.

“Right, then. Ripping off the Band-Aid fast is usually best,” she says. “A little less than twenty-four hours ago, you did something extraordinary. Something that you might not understand, that you might want to think was a dream, or frankly, that you can’t explain. I’m here to tell you that what happened to you actually did happen. You did jump through time, and you are, for all intents and purposes, a time traveler. And I know that because—”

“Because we’re time travelers too!” Greg interrupts.

“Christ! Greg! You couldn’t let me finish!”

Greg holds his hands up. “Sorry, sorry…”

I really did time travel. This is really happening.

Six

I come from a family of scientists. My grandmother on my father’s side was the first African American woman to graduate from Emory’s medical school, and my great-grandfather on my mother’s side helped the Americans on their failed attempt at cracking the Enigma code, though he was very far down the ladder and barely had any responsibility, because, you know, he was Black.

We are a family of doers. Solvers. Creators. And every solution or creation always begins the same way: eliminating any answer that doesn’t make sense. It’s the basis of science. I think.

“Time travel doesn’t exist.”

Did I want it to be real? No. In what world would time travel being a thing make anything easier?

My mind’s racing with millions of thoughts.

“Reasonable reaction, all things considered,” Greg muses. “At least he didn’t run out of the room screaming.”

The only reason I haven’t is because what they are suggesting may be ridiculous, but there’s a part of me that wants to believe it. That’s staying here because maybe, just maybe, they can give me some piece of proof that will make the impossible possible.

“Why do you say that, Andre?” asks Claire.

“That time travel doesn’t exist?”

She nods. “Because society tells you so? Because that’s what you’ve been taught? What about ‘i before e except after c’? We learn when we’re older that’s not true all the time.”

“You’re comparing jumping through time and space to a bad grammatical rule?”