Page 172 of Time Stops With You

Nardi starts screaming her head off too. She pushes me away and makes a break for it. It happens so fast. One minute, she’s behind me. The next, all I see is her back as she disappears into the next room.

Panicked, I look down and find a robotic skeleton hand retreating into the box.

It was just more robotics.

My heart still racing, I go in search of Nardi. She’s hiding behind the couch in a creepy living room. The most terrifying décor is the old family portrait on the wall.

“Nardi?” I whisper. “Nardi?”

“Cullen, are you okay?” She shoots to her feet and hurries over to me. “I thought you were a goner.”

Both embarrassed and a bit offended, I tell her in a shaky voice. “It was nothing.”

“Oh.” She looks down guiltily. “Sorry for pushing you toward the monster. And for running away.”

“Yes, well, being abandoned doesn’t feel great, but I applaud your impeccable sense of self-preservation.” My lips curl up as I realize how ridiculous this situation is.

Nardi smiles shakily. “Can we hurry through the rest of this? I think we got our money’s worth in that last room.”

I offer my hand to her. Nardi slips her fingers between mine without a moment’s hesitation and we make a run for it. I ignore the creepy shadows that crawl by us in the room of cobwebs, the bubbling cauldron in the room of spells, and the hair-raisingspider room that rips a scream from Nardi when a couple plastic spiders land on her head.

The clerk greets us as we stumble through the exits, breathing hard and fighting for our sanity. “How did you enjoy your stay?”

Nardi gives the woman a dark look. “If the point was to severely traumatize me, I’d give it a ten out of ten.”

She smiles as if that’s the greatest compliment and proceeds to encourage us to fill out some testimonial forms. I decline as I can tell that Nardi is about to rain hell on the poor clerk’s head.

We hurry into the sunshine and I feel a sense of relief.

Nardi gives me the stink eye as I lead her to the car. “I amneverdoing that again.”

She won’t hear an argument from me there.

After we get into the car, I take a few minutes to catch my breath before I drive. On the way back, Nardi doesn’t play music. She fiddles with one of her braids instead.

“Are you still scared?” I ask, glancing at her in concern.

“Cullen, do you believe in ghosts?”

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Doyou?”

“I don’t.” She pauses. “But I sometimes think that if I could, like if it was allowed, I’d like to keep watch over my brother. His angels are probably better at it, but I’d still want to do it. You know? Because there’s nothing better than doing the job yourself.”

Somber, I choose my words carefully. “I don’t believe in ghosts or angels. I believe in what I can see. That’s why it’s important to me that I set things up for the people I care about onthisside of the dirt.”

“You don’t believe in angels?” She scrunches her nose.

“I don’t know for sure. Whether they exist or not is something we’re all going to find out one day.” I shrug. “Butwhat I do know is that angels can’t pay for college or pay off a mortgage or set up an investment fund for a smart little boy.”

She stares through the windshield, a thoughtful line in the centre of her forehead. “I keep forgetting your obsession with legacy.”

“What’s wrong with it?” I wonder.

“Isn’t there anything thatyouwant? For yourself?” As I open my mouth to answer, Nardi cuts me off. “Not anything to do with the company or with the PLP or even with me or Josiah.” She shakes her head. “Just you. Like what we did with the haunted house today. Something you want just for yourself.”

I give it a moment’s consideration and then shake my head. “No.”

“Why not?”

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