Free The Hourglass Door by Lisa Mangum Page B

swift circle around the dial. The edges of my vision blurred with a kaleidoscope of swirling colors. “I could use one of your mom’s famous chicken salad sandwiches right now,” I said, dropping my backpack on the chair next to me.
    Jason looked at me quizzically. “How did you know Mom made chicken salad for lunch?”
    My heart dropped in my chest. “Just lucky, I guess.” I shivered despite the hot, crowded cafeteria. A sudden wave of nausea rushed through me and I grabbed the edge of the table and held on tight. The dizziness passed as quickly as it had come. When my vision cleared, I saw Dante standing across the table from us, concern in his stormy gray eyes.
    I saw his mouth move, but I couldn’t hear anything except a wild rush of wind in my ears.
    “Abby?”
    This time I heard my name clearly but I wasn’t sure who had said it, let alone when. What is happening to me? Real fear gripped me, leaving a sour taste in my mouth.
    I saw Dante hesitate a moment, then set his mouth in a thin line and walk straight for our table. “May I?” he asked, touching the back of the chair next to me.
    “Sure,” I said. With shaking hands, I lifted my backpack off the chair and pushed it out for Dante.
    He sat down and clasped his gloved hand around my wrist. Time, already fractured, seemed to stop altogether. The roar of the cafeteria dulled to a distant murmur. I watched Jason turn toward me in slow motion, a frown on his face.
    “I’m sorry, Abby,” Dante said quickly. “I was careless on Saturday. I shouldn’t have carried you to the car. I shouldn’t have . . .” He shook his head. “If I had known you’d been suffering all this time . . .” A dark shadow crossed his face. “I thought I had it under control.” He drew in a deep breath. I could almost see the flow of air into his body. “I know what you are going through and I will make things right,” he said in a low voice. “I promise.”
    “What?” My mind struggled to keep up with the flood of his words. The pressure inside me flexed like a clenched fist.
    “Meet me on the north side of the parking lot before rehearsal starts this afternoon. Alone.” Dante leaned close enough to me that I could smell the dusty-sweet scent of his wool coat. “Promise me you’ll be there, Abby. Ti prego. ”
    His fingers skimmed over the back of my hand like a summer breeze through leaves. Dante’s eyes met mine and a feeling like a shower of cold water washed over me, leaving me clean, cool, and calm. My heart settled back into its normal rhythm. My eyes stopped seeing horrifying double visions of the present and the future. The tight knot in my chest loosened, unraveling enough for me to take a deep breath. I felt myself on solid ground for the first time all day, all week.
    Dante removed his hand from my wrist and time snapped back into its regular rhythm. I could still feel the pressure in my bones, but now it was distant, tamed by Dante’s touch. I hoped I could handle the remaining pressure on my own. I hoped the worst was over.
    Dante leaned back in his chair as though we’d never had a whispered conversation in the middle of the cafeteria.
    Without taking his eyes off Dante, Jason shifted his chair closer to mine.
    “It’s nice to finally meet you, Jason. Abby speaks quite highly of you.” Dante tugged at the edge of his gloves, readjusting the fit of them over his strong hands.
    “Thanks,” Jason said with a curt nod of his head and a sharp glance at me. “When did you guys talk?”
    “During breakfast on Saturday,” I blurted and then immediately wished I hadn’t said anything. I took a bite of my sandwich to prevent myself from saying anything else.
    “Really?” Jason looked from me to Dante and back again, his hazel eyes hardening into amber.
    “It was a working breakfast,” Dante said smoothly, not looking at me. “Abby was helping me with the rehearsal schedule for the play.”
    “That’s right,” Jason said coolly. “I’d