Free Time's Divide (The Chronos Files Book 3) by Rysa Walker Page A

don’t think either Kiernan or Trey noticed, even though they’re both looking at me oddly now. They probably think the tears in my eyes are from something Prudence said, or because I’m worried Mom is angry. No, they’re tears of relief. I don’t believe for a second we’re done talking about all of this, and I’m pretty sure some of that talking will be of the yelling-at-me variety, but that one little squeeze telegraphed a message that couldn’t have been clearer if she’d said the words out loud.
    We’re in this together.

    Prudence keeps her friendly face on for the next twenty minutes or so, happily sampling the various items on the tray and downing several more glasses of champagne. Kiernan pushes a little blue pill toward her when she starts on the fourth glass, but she just laughs and sweeps the pill to the floor.
    Is she on an antipsychotic of some sort? She needs to be.
    Pru keeps adding things to Mom’s plate. She doesn’t seem to notice whether the rest of us are eating. We aren’t, for the most part. Even though it’s all delicious, I think everyone is too on edge to be hungry.
    The waiters, who are almost overattentive to the surrounding tables, give our group a wide berth. Did one of them see Prudence pop out earlier? Or maybe they’ve just noticed that everyone else at the table is acting like Pru is a bomb about to go off?
    I feel like I’m the one who’s going to explode, however. It’s hard to sit here sipping tea when there are other things I need to be doing. I don’t have time for Prudence’s version of the Mad Tea Party.
    My anxiety must show on my face, because when I look up again, Prudence is watching me. Her mind has apparently returned, at least for the moment.
    “What’s up, little niece of mine? You’re mighty twitchy. Somewhere you need to be?” She glances around the table, a sour look on her face. “None of you seem to be in a very festive mood. I sprang for the unlimited bubbles, and that’s still your first glass, Deb. This is supposed to be a party.”
    Mom tips back the rest of her champagne, but doesn’t reach for the bottle to refill it. “It’s all delicious, Pru. I’m just a bit tired. Travel always wears me out. Maybe we should go back to the room—”
    “So that you can pack up your things and head back home with your darling daughter.” It’s a statement, not a question, and Pru gives Mom a bitter smile as she reaches for her CHRONOS key.
    “So that I can get some rest , Pru. I still want to see a few things in London before we head off to Greece, or Rome, or wherever it is you’ve decided to go next. I’m coming with you, as long as you agree to stick to the present time so that I can actually follow.”
    “Mom! No!” I turn toward her, stunned. “Please. We need to talk about this.”
    Mom’s eyes stay on Prudence, but her hand reaches under the table to squeeze my knee.
    My first instinct is to brush her hand away and start arguing, until she digs her fingers in a bit harder and I freeze. Old habits die hard. I remember the knee squeeze from the time I was a little kid squirming next to Mom at a fancy restaurant. At a colleague’s funeral when she couldn’t get a sitter. In the car, in Iowa, when she was trying to talk the cop out of a speeding ticket.
    I know this signal. It means sit still and stay quiet.
    And I remember Mom’s hand on mine earlier. She has a plan. I’m not sure I’m going to like it or agree with it, but she’s up to something.
    “I think you’re right, Prudence. Kate’s old enough to handle things on her own. I’d just be in the way at home. And,” she continues in a drier tone, “since I apparently don’t have an actual job to return to . . . well, a vacation would be nice. A sister trip.”
    Mom turns back to me, smiling regretfully. “I’m sorry the two of you traveled all this way if your goal was to bring me back. You need to get back to school, young lady. I didn’t authorize this rescue