The moan she had been keeping inside escaped, filling the entire space of the coffee shop. Everyone turned to look. She didn’t care. She couldn’t stop.

  It was Pax who stood, pulled Maya to her feet, and, gathering her in his arms, led her outside to a bench under the one tree on the block.

  Ceya and Koda looked at each other, both of them thinking the same thing—what Maya must have realized. Ginny wasn’t coming because someone was stopping her, and perhaps Pax was the right person for this mission after all.

  “I knew I’d find you here,” Johnny said, winding his way through the tables at Your Second Home to reach his mother.

  Valerie had stood and opened her arms to welcome her son home by the time he reached her table. After hugging his mother, Johnny turned to Grace and hugged her, too. He was so happy to be home, he turned around and said, “Anyone else want to hug?”

  The few people in the cafe laughed, stood, and hugged everyone they could reach, most of them making their way to Johnny before sitting back down again, smiling at the spontaneous outpouring of community hugging.

  No one was surprised. It was Doveland. Johnny, still standing, bowed and smiled at each table before sitting down with his mother and Grace, overjoyed at being home. And then it hit him. He was home. To stay this time. And he smiled again, thinking of how much he had changed. From the boy who felt so alone he acted out, to what he realized he was now—a young man who knew what he wanted and was happy with himself and his world.

  Grace watched Johnny, thinking how much she loved this young man. It wasn’t as if she didn’t find love in her heart for everyone, but watching Johnny grow up these last few years had helped her heart heal after her husband, Eric, had died. She’d always miss him, but she knew they would meet again, and wherever he was, he was doing good as he had while they were together. They had little time together, but they had made the most of it.

  “Are you two planning something?” Johnny asked once he had gotten his coffee and a scone. Grace had suggested he try one, and after he moaned with pleasure about how delicious it was, Grace told him that Lex had made them. He was trying his hand at pastries, along with continuing with Pete’s cooking class.

  “He’s quite talented, your brother,” Grace said.

  Valerie beamed.

  Johnny put down his cup and asked, “Has Lex done any more remote-viewing?”

  “Not that I know about,” Valerie said, glancing at Grace. She knew that sometimes Lex came to Grace first, both her boys thinking of Grace as their grandmother. She couldn’t blame them. Grace was the perfect woman to go to for anything. And her boys were not the only children who thought of Grace that way.

  “He hasn’t said anything.”

  Johnny looked at both women and realized there was something else going on. Something more than two friends having coffee together.

  “What’s happening?”

  When neither one of them responded, Johnny added, “You’re not fooling me by being quiet. You two are up to something, and don’t tell me it’s all about planning some event.”

  “We are planning an event,” Grace laughed. “Mother’s Day at Ava and Evan’s.”

  “And, what else,” Johnny said.

  Grace turned to Valerie and said, “Might as well tell him he’s going to bug us until we do.”

  “What!” Johnny demanded.

  Valerie smiled at her son and said, “Grace had a visitor.”

  “Good lord, mom, that means nothing. Grace always has visitors. She’s practically the entire town’s hostess.”

  “It wasn’t someone who lives here.”

  Impatient now, Johnny lowered his voice and said, “Tell me the story straight. Leave nothing out.”

  THIRTY TWO

  Ginny put her head back on the headrest of Frank's car, closed her eyes, and silently wept within. I will not show any emotion, she promised herself. But inside, she pinged-ponged between rage and sadness. She was a complete and total idiot. She knew it now. But she wouldn't give Fred the pleasure or the control of knowing how she was feeling.

  Instead, she calmed herself and asked, "Tell me more about Rose. Could she have gone off with a friend? What is she interested in? Is it possible that she is just playing hooky? Kids do that sometimes, you know."

  Fred turned and smiled at Ginny. If she wanted to play this game, he was happy to do so. The only part he didn't like about it was that he needed to make up a story about some little girl. He didn't like kids. He never had. Sure, he knew himself well enough to understand it was because he had been so bullied as a child. Big deal. It didn't mean he had to learn to like them.

  But here he was making up a kid called Rose. The name had popped into his head and out of his mouth before he could take it back. It was his mother's middle name. Joline Rose Stiles. So as he made up things about a little girl that didn't exist, he pictured his mother as she might have been when she was young.

  Ginny listened intently to his story. Now that she realized he was making it up, she hoped the story would give her some way to control Fred, or at least influence him in her favor. She wouldn't underestimate him again. But she needed more information about who he was and why he had kidnapped her. Because that was what was going on, even though they were pretending it wasn't.

  As they had driven away from the parking lot, she had reached into her coat pocket for her phone. It wasn't there, so she started digging through her purse, looking for it. Perhaps she had dropped it in there without thinking about it.

  Fred had asked her what she was looking for.

  "My phone," Ginny had answered, experiencing the edge of panic. She reached under her seat and then tried to turn around in case it had slipped out of her pocket, onto the floor, and was now in the back. But she couldn't. Her seatbelt kept her from turning. So she tried unlatching it. It wouldn't. She was stuck in her seat.

  Still not realizing what was happening, she asked Fred for help.

  "Are you stuck?" Fred asked, smiling.

  It was the smile that gave him away. It didn't reach his eyes.

  "Sorry about that. Sometimes it sticks. I'll fix it when we get to my parents' house."

  "But my mother. I need to call my mother right now."

  "She'll be okay. We'll call her soon. You realize I have to find Rose. Think about me, Ginny. Give it a rest."

  It all sounded perfectly normal. Ginny might have bought the story for a little longer if it hadn't been for the weird smile. But the feeling she had before stepping into the car came back in a rush.

  How many times had her mother told her to be careful? How many times had she taught her children not to get into a car with a stranger? And yet, she had not been careful or followed her own rules. Fred was a stranger. She didn't know him at all.

  It was then that she had laid her head back on the seat, trying not to show the turmoil of emotions raging inside her. She still had a chance. If she could fool him into making him think she still believed him, she had a chance.

  So she asked him about Rose and listened to his story with a growing appreciation for his ability to tell stories, along with increasing respect for her mother. Somehow, these two things were connected.

  Her mother had been acting differently for the last few days. A little lighter, perhaps. She had even seen her stand in front of the cracked mirror and reach out and touch its battered frame with such tenderness Ginny had felt jealous. Of a mirror, of all things.

  And then she had invited Ginny to meet with her at a cafe. How had she missed how important that was? When she chose Fred's daughter over her mother, was she punishing her, or was she just an idiot, ignoring all the signs. Helping the wrong person, and now in some trouble. She had to find out why.

  Ginny was sure of one thing. This was not a random event. Fred had targeted her. Her mother had protected her in her own way, but from what? She'd find out. She was used to pretending. She could fool Fred.

  So as Fred made up a story about a daughter that didn't exist, and Ginny listened as if she worried about the little girl, Fred celebrated. This was easier than he thought it was going to be. He was sure Ginny had figured out that he had kidnapped her, but instead of resisting, she acted as if everything was okay.

  It made things easier for him to drive. But once they stopped, he would have to restrain her because he knew Ginny would try to get away. It would not happen. He had what Dradon wanted, and he was going to use her to find out what he needed to know to take over Dradon's businesses. Dradon could stay as the figurehead if he could control him. Otherwise, he would replace him with another figurehead.

  Fred didn't want or enjoy the limelight. He enjoyed being the quiet man who ran everything, with only a few people knowing. It would be up to Dradon whether or not he kept his life. Fred suspected Dradon would not give in. But first, he had to find out why Ginny was so important to Dradon before he could take Dradon's power away.

  In the meantime, he would play along with this woman. She was beautiful and intelligent. If things were different, he might even let himself like her. But he couldn't. He had bigger plans, and no person, even this lovely woman, would ruin them.

  So he continued with the story about Rose. He made up stories about who she was and how much he worried about her, as if she was real and as if he cared. And Ginny played along.

  Ginny didn't know why it was happening, but she was determined that Fred would not keep her from her mother and what she wanted to tell her. How she would get away, she didn't know. But there was one thing Ginny knew for sure. Her life would never be the same, and a small piece of her was glad. Whatever the secret was that her mother kept from her all these years would come out in the open, and she was ready for it.

  While both Ginny and Fred plotted out their plans, neither knew that there was much more at stake than they could imagine. Neither of them realized they were pawns in a game that would determine the fate of at least one world and the direction of another.

  THIRTY THREE

  All his life Dradon had expected to be treated like royalty. Because he was. The title of High Priest and High Priestess had been in their family for many generations. It was a title given to them by the man who climbed the cliff.

  After leading the people of Crann into a time of peace, William Sky said that there would always need to be an overseer for the people. The people would need to know and believe that the welfare of their world was always in safe hands, that there would always be someone watching over them, someone who would put the people's interest ahead of their own. William Sky called those people the High Priest and High Priestess, but only with the understanding that they, and their offspring, would always continue the work of keeping the peace in Crann.

  He chose Dradon's ancestors as that family because they were the ones who protected him when he first arrived. They kept him safe against the rebels who wanted no part of peace. There were many people upset about the ending of wars. Wars allowed them to rule, to be in control for themselves and not for the good of their world. And they were willing to fight to have it. It took many, many trips around the sun before almost all the people of Crann chose peace.

  They kept those that still wanted to fight in one small village, isolated from everyone else. A group of people called The Protectors watched over them.

  Over the centuries, the number of people in that village declined, and peace and cooperation became the accepted way of life.

  But then I came along, Dradon chucked to himself. A misfit from the start.

  Dradon was a disappointment to his parents, someone for his siblings to fear, and then eventually all of Crann to fear. He went to the village, gathered the few remaining misfits, helped them kill The Protectors, who had grown careless, and then led the misfits against the rest of Crann. He was their ruler. They fought against all that his family stood for. Dradon brought back war. He named his warriors Satoka after his brother Akotas. He knew when Akotas figured out it was his name in reverse, it would break his heart. Dradon loved every minute of the fighting, but it was too easy. He wanted more. Falling off the cliff came at the perfect time.

  Now, after all this time, Dradon knew his family would still be the caretakers of a peaceful Crann. Akotas and Isira would have done what was required of them to contain those that wanted to fight. It would have been easy since Dradon, their ruler, was no longer there.

  The world that he fell into had already been at war. Insurrections of all sizes were common. People fought within families. Dividing lines existed everywhere. With all the separation and contentions between people, Dradon found it easy to become the ruler of one company after another. It was easier than using physical weapons and fighting in the street. Rule a company. Rule a world. It was easy to turn people against each other in this world.

  However, it all bored him now. He couldn't rise higher than he had already risen. There were too many other people like him. Although he was accepted into most of their elite circles, he could never be the ruler of the entire world.

  The desire to return to Crann and turn it into a world like this one, but where he would become and remain the one and only ruler, burned within him. He wouldn't be the High Priest of Peace. No. He, Dradon, would be the One Ruler of Crann. He could easily overthrow his brother and sister if they were still alive. He would destroy their children, starting with Ginny once he was finished with her.

  Dradon already knew precisely how to transform Crann into his image. This world had taught him so much control. He had used brute force before, and although that had its place, he was older and wiser now. Now he knew what to do. He would destroy the forests and then the land. And he would control the little land left to grow food.

  He would separate people. There would be no nightly gatherings in village centers to watch the sun go down and discuss the day. He would spread rumors about people, make some better than others. Divide and conquer was his motto in business, and it was exactly how he would go about controlling Crann.

  It was frustrating not to know what was going on in Crann now, so he could plan better. But what infuriated him was that he couldn't figure out how to return. Somehow Maya knew how. And perhaps her daughter. Ginny was the key. If he controlled her, Maya would have to tell him how to go back.

  It was the only reason they were both still alive. Dradon knew someday he would be ready to return, and that time had come. He was a small ruler here in this world, but he would be the only ruler in his homeworld.

  Dradon glanced at his watch. It was past the time for Fred to check in. Not for the first time, Dradon sensed a twinge of worry about Fred. However, in the past, he had convinced himself that Fred was what he appeared to be. His right-hand man. Efficient and capable. A follower, not a leader. But now, realizing that he was ready to return to Crann, Dradon let that pang of worry grow. What if he’d been wrong about Fred? And Fred had Ginny—the key to his future success.

  Just then, his phone rang. He answered, not saying anything, letting his silence speak his displeasure at Fred's lateness.

  "Sorry, sir," Fred said. He knew enough not to offer an excuse for being late checking in.

  Dradon continued the silence a moment longer before asking, "Yes?"

  Fred understood what he meant. "Yes," he said. "All is well."

  Dradon said nothing more. He hung up, put both hands on his desk, dropped his head, and breathed deeply. Something was wrong. It was time to find out what it was.

  Fred listened to the phone's silence for a few seconds before putting the phone down and looking over at Ginny, who smiled at him as if they were a couple.

  She's good, Fred thought and smiled back at her. But not as good as me. Both she and Dradon are about to find out who I really am.

  His smile broadened at the thought, and Ginny, observing him, felt as if she was looking at a snake getting ready to eat his prey.

  THIRTY FOUR

  “Well, not me. It was Bryan. He had the visitor, and then he told me,” Grace said, and Valerie nodded in agreement.

  Johnny smacked his head, frustrated, and then realized that his mom and Grace were teasing him. And teaching him at the same time.

  Calm down and listen, he told himself.

  “Okay, Bryan had a visitor. He always has visitors. What makes this one special?”

  They had all met Bryan Anderson when he and his wife Rachel Winsor helped a woman who died and then returned to her past life to fix a mistake she had made. Since then, Bryan had helped many other people stuck, or waiting in the in-between, to move on.

  “Well, this visitor was not someone in the in-between,” Grace said.

  “Okay, so they are alive now? What in the world are you two not telling me?" Johnny said, trying to keep calm and listen.

  “Well,” Grace said. “Yes, and no. I mean, he is alive, but he’s not from around here.”

  Johnny refused the temptation to ask the next question. He knew Grace was enjoying giving him a hard time, but she would eventually have to tell the complete story., So he leaned back in his chair and took a bite of scone and a sip of coffee.

  Grace sighed, and then laughed. “Okay, teasing over. He is not from around here, meaning he doesn’t live here.”

  “Where does he live? Why are you being so mysterious? And he’s not from the in-between. Is he from another dimension?”

  “Kinda. If I understand it correctly, or if Bryan understood it correctly, it’s a parallel world to this one.”

  “Which is another dimension,” Johnny said.

  “Okay. Let’s say that it is.”

  “It is.”

 

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