With a click and a buzz, Elena’s alarm clock went off. Closing her journal, she got up. Soon, it would be time to go to school. Would she remember enough about who she had been then? She worried that somehow, everyone would see that she was the wrong Elena, in the wrong time.
A hot bath and some coffee, and I’ll calm down, she thought. She had time.
After a leisurely bath, she took her time getting dressed. The clothes—all the gorgeous new outfits she’d gotten in Paris—looked outdated to her now, but she still sort of loved them. She remembered what she’d worn on this day, the first day of her senior year. A pale rose top and white linen shorts. She pulled them on again. They made her look tempting, as sweet and refreshing as a raspberry sundae, she thought as she looked critically into the mirror, pulling back her hair with a deep rose ribbon.
“Elena! You’re going to be late for school!” Aunt Judith’s voice drifted up from below. Glancing in the mirror one last time—her face was a trifle grim, as if she were headed into battle, but that couldn’t be helped—Elena grabbed her backpack and headed for the stairs.
Downstairs, Aunt Judith was burning something on the stove, and Margaret was eating cereal at the kitchen table. The sight of them stopped Elena in her tracks for a second. She’d forgotten how little Margaret was then. And Aunt Judith had still been wearing her flyaway hair long.
Elena pushed herself back into motion and kissed Aunt Judith quickly on the cheek. “Good morning,” she said lightly. “Sorry, I don’t have time for breakfast.”
“But, Elena, you can’t just go off without eating. You need your protein—”
It was all coming back to her. She felt like an actress, mouthing familiar lines she’d said a hundred times before. “I’ll get a doughnut before school,” she said, dropping a kiss on the top of Margaret’s silky head and turning to go.
“But, Elena—”
“Don’t worry, Aunt Judith,” Elena said cheerfully. “It’ll all be fine.” At the front door, she spun to take one last quick look at them. Margaret, still half-asleep, licked her spoon. Aunt Judith, her eyes full of love, gave Elena a small, worried smile.
Elena’s heart ached a little. Part of her wanted to go back, forget school and the future, and sit down at the table with them. So much had happened since this moment, and she’d never believed she would be back here like this again. But she couldn’t stay. Margaret wiggled her fingers in a wave, and Elena, spurring herself into movement, winked at the little girl as she went through the door.
“Elena,” Aunt Judith said. “I really think—”
She closed the door behind her, cutting off Aunt Judith’s protests, and stepped out onto the front porch.
And stopped.
The world outside was silent, the street deserted. The tall, pretty Victorian houses seemed to loom above her. Overhead, the sky was milky and opaque, and the air felt oppressively heavy.
It was as if the whole street were holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
Out of the corner of her eye, Elena saw something move. Something was watching her.
She turned and caught sight of a huge black crow, the biggest crow she had ever seen, sitting in the quince tree in her front yard. It was completely still, and its glittering black eyes were fixed on her with an intent, almost human gaze.
Elena bit back a laugh and turned away, letting her eyes slide over the crow as if she hadn’t noticed it.
Damon. She had almost forgotten that this was the first time she’d seen him, that he’d watched her—frightened her—as a crow this first morning. There was a glad little bubble of joy rising in her chest, but she suppressed the urge to call out to him. It wasn’t the time, not yet.
Instead, she took a deep breath, hopped off the porch, and strode confidently down the street. Behind her, she heard a harsh croak and the flapping of wings, and she smiled to herself. Damon couldn’t stand being ignored. She didn’t turn back around.
It was only a few blocks to the high school, and Elena spent the walk reminiscing. There was the coffee shop she and Matt had gone to on their first date junior year; there was the little health food shop where Aunt Judith had insisted on buying her special organic cereal. There was the house of the terrible Kline twins, who Elena had babysat during her sophomore year of school.
In her real life, it hadn’t been that long since Elena had been to Fell’s Church, but things had changed since she was in high school. Stores had closed and opened, houses were remodeled. This was the way it had been when she’d lived here, the way it was supposed to be.
At the school, a crowd of her friends had gathered in the parking lot, chattering and showing off their new clothes. It was everyone who mattered, plus four or five girls who had hung around them in the hopes of gathering some scraps of popularity.
Elena winced. Everyone who mattered. The nasty thought had slotted right into her mind. The Elena who belonged here had thought that.
One by one, her best friends hugged her in welcome. They looked so young, Elena thought, her heart aching. They all thought they were so sophisticated, but their seventeen- and eighteen-year-old faces still had childish curves, and their eyes were wide with thinly veiled excitement at the first day of their senior year.
Caroline, her green eyes narrow, laid one cool cheek against Elena’s for a second and then stepped back. “Welcome home, Elena,” she said dryly. “It must feel like the backwoods for you after Paris.”
Her expression was stiff and resentful, and Elena wondered at how she had managed to not notice then how much the other girl hated her.