Chapter 6“Break a romantic spell, did I?” Still an hour away from the high school in the present, I shared with Waz what I remembered about the scene in the past. “My brother, Cyan—”
“I remember Cyan.”
“He asked something like that when I got in his car.”
Cyan asked exactly that. My memory was like a steel trap.
Traffic alternated from non-existent to bumper to bumper, depending on our location. I’d made pretty good time. The first hour had flown by, actually, some in conversation, some relatively quiet. Pedestrians were out and about where we were now. A couple had tried to flag me down to pick them up, even though the Taxi sign atop my roof was off.
“What did you tell him?” Waz gave one the middle finger after he raised his at us first for driving right by.
“We were told not to do
