Lost in Translation

Manhattan, New York 1925- 1

On October 5th, 1925, in the state of New York, my sister, Shannon's, soul shattered. That was only the beginning of what was to come.

This is how our story began: we didn't know our birth parents. We were adopted into a nice, average family in Wisconsin. Shannon and I were only a year apart, and we had always been close. On my eighteenth birthday, our parents gave us a box from our biological parents. Shannon and I were sitting on her bed in the apartment we'd soon share when we opened the box. This is what was inside: two pictures, two lockets, one note. Shannon and I were put up for adoption at ages one and two. We had no memories of our parents, and it was a closed adoption, so we had no information either. That's why this box was a shock; it created a connection to our birth parents that we had never felt before. We had pulled out the pictures first. The first picture was of a young couple dancing at a royal ball in the days where that was not an uncommon thing. The woman was beautiful with thick blonde curls encircling her shoulders. The man was handsome with dark hair that refused to stay in place. They were both wearing lockets. Some ancient relatives we figured. The next photograph meant more to us. A man and woman. The man was holding a small baby in his arms, and the woman had a little girl sitting on her lap. The family looked happy. They were seated in front of a cozy fireplace wearing happy smiles and loving looks. This was our family. At some point anyways. Our parents were wearing lockets just like the couple we thought were our ancestors. That was the other thing--our parents mirrored a striking resemblance to our ancient relatives. As in they looked exactly like them. It was weird. We moved onto the note which Shannon read aloud.

Dear Shannon and Clarissa,

I am SO sorry we have to do this. I will miss you dearly every day. Your father is shattered, and I am so distraught. To think you'll be eighteen when you read this! I'll understand if you're upset with us, but please, if it's in your hearts, find us some day. But first, there is something you must do for me. Put on the lockets that are enclosed. Wear them always. Agree on a place you want to go in a certain time period. Sit together, hold hands, close your eyes, imagine yourselves there, then open. I know it sounds silly, but please, do it for me. I will love you girls always, and so will your father.

With love, your parents, Serenity and Michael Time.

Shannon and I were in tears after reading this. We quickly came to an agreement: no matter how silly it sounded we had to do what Serenity time--our birth mother--had asked us to do. We had agreed on Paris in 1942. That was our first time time traveling. I was eighteen when we did that. Now it was four years later and I was twenty-two.

This is what I thought about while I sat on a bed in the Aberdeen Hotel in 1925 Manhattan, turning my sister's locket over and over again in my hands. It was the only thing left after her soul shattered.

"Shattered!" I gasped. "How could I be so daft?"

I fumbled through my suitcase and pulled out the box. I quickly re-read the letter and focused in on one sentence in particular: "Your father is shattered, and I am so distraught."

"Oh. My. God," I breathed out. It was even underlined!

That's why we were put up for adoption. That's why our parents left. It all made sense now. My father's soul was shattered. I wondered if my mother had ever managed to save him. Instantly, I knew what I had to do: I had to find my birth parents. They could help. But how was I supposed to find them? They could be anywhere on the planet and anywhere in time.

There was a sharp knock on the door which caused me to startle. "Clarissa? Shannon?" a man's voice called through the door.

I stumbled over and slipped out into the hall.