Epilogue

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Not for the first time, an explosion shook the office, and I glanced over the cubicles before tugging out my earplugs.

A tiny burst of metal left a scuff on the glittering floors in a semi-circle around the workspace for the day. Off the main hallway, a tiny office shone with windows facing the street, decorated with automatic blinds and decals that shone like stained glass. It reminded me of my studio, which, with any luck, I'd be returning to later.

Laughter rang out from both sides of the explosion. I couldn't hide the smile on my face; I didn't want to, either.

"Sorry, Rory," a sanitation worker said from beside me. "Still can't get it right."

With a shrug, I reached for the wrench and started again. I stood to help her, stretching before settling next to her on the floor. The version of Silver we'd been working on in secret for a few weeks sat on the floor. We weren't supposed to be doing this. But even though my punishment wasn't over yet, I was pretty sure sanitation would be okay with a robot helping them out all the time, so they'd probably overlook it. Probably.

"The wires again?" I asked.

It had been a year since Michaela and I had returned to our current time, with chaos awaiting us both in the changes and the unresolved tension of our future. As it turned out, though, Tanner had taken over Parkland's handler business when he'd gotten arrested, and my past self had spent the past seven years under his direction, per my punishment.

"Here." I showed the worker how to weave them together. "Don't cross those two. It'll explode, but even if it does... I'll teach you how to fix it if you have to when my time is up."

I waved my hand and gestured to the windowsill, against which was my invention to fix that problem. I'd had a lot of free time lately, between inventing and my recent graduation. Though my engineering degree had been much, much harder the second time around, this time I'd paid attention. And I hadn't cheated to get there. Tuition and all.

My grades were average, but I'd worked for them. I'd been doing freelance for a while, distributing my work where I could.

The wires looped through the robot's tendons. It sparked to life at once.

"Nice," I said.

The worker handed me some coffee. Their PPE bore the logo of the same lab where Michaela worked.

"Thanks." I sipped. The espresso buzzed within me as we drank in silence.

The sun shone beneath a thick layer of clouds. Summer was nearly over. As were Michaela's duties—the system pinged to announce it.

By the time I finished my coffee, she entered the building, and I rushed over to greet her.

"Hey." She leaned over to kiss me. Her hands found their way to my back and sank into my embrace. She held me. "I missed you."

"I know. Enough to come to bother me at work." I grinned. "Love you too."

She let out a soft chuckle, pressing her nose against mine. It wasn't the first time I'd told her. But I couldn't stop saying it. The words sounded wonderful. I'd never tire of hearing them from her, or from me.

"How were things?" I asked.

She traced her finger across my palm. "As usual. Handler-heroes are getting better under Tanner's guidance, but he can only do so much."

"I figured." He was hardly a Horizon handler, but I didn't mind. He was operating on his own terms to give rogues a handler without controlling them. Like me. Like Michaela. Maybe he'd manage to make it better. Maybe he wouldn't. But it was a work in progress.

Plus, he wasn't a millionaire. Some of my skimmed interest paid to him, but that was about it.

"We're seeing your parents, aren't we? Are you done for the day?"

"Yeah."

Her smile lifted my mood. My heart flipped, like it always did around her. We headed to get ready and bid goodbye to the sanitation workers, who continued to work on the robot.

She drove. The radio played soft, familiar music from years ago, which for me seemed like not so long ago at all. We held hands at stoplights. Took the scenic route to my parent's house. I'd seen them a couple of times over the past year, more than I ever had before. More than I had during my first attempt at a degree.

But I'd make up for it. A thousand times.

Michaela found the house. As usual, a rainbow flag caught the light from their porch, and I flushed a little.

She parked and pulled me into a kiss. Everything about her relaxed me. Her hair tumbled into her eyes, and when I reached to tuck it back, my heart leapt.

"I love you," I said again.

"I know." She grinned wide. "I love you."

When her mouth parted from mine, she sighed. A knowing look crossed her face. "We're back to doing this in cars."

"Oh, always."

She laughed, such a sweet, warm sound. We shut the doors behind us. The breeze carried through my hair. Her fingers in mine made me never want to let go.

For a moment, I looked around. At the grass on their lawn. At the blinds pulled back.

I absorbed it all. Not because it was the last time. Or even the first.

When I did this, it was to hold myself here. For a while. For long enough to pass the superpositions, to feel them within me. Every version of me included, folded into one.

Like it always would be.

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