Page 18 of Before the Summer He Found Her

“No,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. How on earth am I going to broach this subject? I’ve played it out a thousand different ways in my mind, and there is no good way to do this. “I’m, umm, well, as your boss, that is… I’m concerned about you.”

“Concerned? What about?”

I try to be gentle, using a slightly teasing tone with her. “Well, you work a lot, for starters.”

She laughs. “Oh, boy. I mean, yeah. Just like you.”

“Just like me, yes.”

“And what else? What else has you so concerned?”

“It’s, well, the other day, actually,” I admit. “When I asked you to go spend time with your friends, and you seemed sad for a moment. I just want to make sure that you have people in your life. Do you, Channah?”

There’s silence on the phone. A silence that drags on for a bit too long. I pull my phone away, just to ensure we’re still connected. Yes, she’s there, and the silence between us has now been going on for a good thirty seconds.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe. “I know this isn’t my place to ask. I’ve known you for years now… and… and… I feel bad if I’ve been telling you to go see your friends if…”

“If my friends at work consist of the people on our team,” she finishes.

I nod my head, even though she can’t see it. “Is this true?”

“It is,” she admits. “Truthfully, I’m still rebuilding after a bad time in my life. It’s been hard, even now, but I’m stronger than I was. I am trying, but most of the time, I put up a strong front so that the people I do interact with don’t worry about me.”

“And here I am, anyway. Worried about you.”

“You seem to see through me somehow, Ezra.”

I let out a soft sigh, using this as the most appropriate place for me to jump into the real reason I’m calling. “There’s something else, too, Channah. When you mentioned your parents the other day. The way you mentioned them. Are they… were they…”

“My parents,” she breathes, and I hear her starting to choke up, taken so off guard by my mention of them.

“They’re no longer in the living, are they?” I ask, feeling so guilty for even asking this question. Part of this is coming from a place of concern—but the other is truly asking her for the sake of proving something.

“No,” she murmurs, “they’re no longer in the living.”

“I am so sorry,” I say, a pang of guilt and sadness swirling around inside of me, as the realization dawns on me.

I am connecting to Channah Abrams, my subordinate, in the past.

We’ve been interacting. Sasha has inadvertently created a time machine.

And I care about Channah in ways I should not.

CHAPTER NINE

EZRA

At the Philly airport, I use my free hand to grab my Dunkin’ coffee, nodding my head in appreciation to the barista.

In my other hand, I’m holding my cell to my ear, and Scott’s going on about numbers. He continues speaking as I step through the airport. I’m en route to visit a bunch of sites today opening soon in this market, but my head is not in the game at all.

It’s been three days since I connected to that blasted machine.

And I’m still thinking about her, even after our conversation the other day.

I take a sip of my coffee, daringly, considering I’m out of bandwidth here between one hand holding the coffee and the other pressing a phone to my ear. Weaving around clumps of people, I head toward the shuttle to get my car rental.

Scott’s droning on and on in my ear, and I’m hardly listening, too lost in thought. It isn’t until I hear Channah’s name that I jump to attention. Coffee nearly spritzes out of my mouth.

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