Gah. Her insides turned to jelly.
She stared, then slowly placed hers in his.
Breathe.
Her vision exploded with pictures of hammers, saws and sawdust. Old cars drove on somewhat familiar streets. Signs on buildings looked like ones from the antique shop. A younger version of the man before her embracing a beautiful young woman. An awful car crash. Pictures of a prison—lines of inmates dressed alike in orange and a terrified Mr. Timmelsen backed against a wall. She cringed, and just as she was about to run out the door, she saw him walk into the town as it was now.
She jerked her hand from his and scooted away.
“Are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost. I know I’m old and scary, but usually people just want to slap me or kick me, not shy away.”
Words wouldn’t come out. She sta
