Chapter 2: A World Lost in Time
When I opened my eyes, the air felt different—thicker, cooler, and laced with the scent of rain-soaked earth. For a moment, I was still spinning, trying to piece together what had happened. The museum, the stranger, the locket—they felt like fragments of a dream, slipping further away the more I tried to grasp them.
I sat up slowly, wincing at the sudden jolt of pain in my shoulder. The hard cobblestones beneath me were rough and cold, unlike the smooth marble floor of the museum. I blinked, trying to make sense of my surroundings.
This wasn’t London. At least, not the London I knew.
Instead of sleek glass buildings and cars zooming by, I was surrounded by horse-drawn carriages, gas lamps flickering weakly along cobblestone streets, and people hurrying past in long, draping Victorian gowns and tailored waistcoats. The air was crisp, tinged with the faint scent of coal smoke and wet stone, and everywhere I looked, the world seemed draped in shades of gray.
Panic surged through me. This can’t be real.
I scrambled to my feet, nearly stumbling into the street. A carriage rattled past me, the driver shouting something in my direction, but my mind was spinning too fast to understand his words. My breath came in sharp, shallow gasps. I spun around, searching for some sign—anything—that would explain where I was. Or when.
This was impossible. People didn’t just slip through time, did they?
A cold dread sank deep into my bones as I looked down at myself. The jeans and jacket I had been wearing were gone, replaced by a dress that looked as though it belonged in the very era I was standing in. The heavy fabric clung to me, the corset tight around my ribs, squeezing the breath from my lungs. It was beautiful, though, in a strange way—delicate lace trim at the sleeves, a deep blue velvet bodice with a high collar, like something straight out of a period drama.
Except this wasn’t a drama. This was real.
I started walking, my footsteps quick and uneven as I weaved through the narrow streets, my mind racing. There had to be a way out of this—a way back. I just needed to find the locket. I had touched it. Maybe if I found it again, I could reverse whatever had happened.
But as I stumbled past groups of well-dressed men and women who barely glanced in my direction, a creeping sense of doubt settled in. What if there was no way back?
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the carriage careening down the street toward me until it was almost too late. The driver was shouting something, but the pounding of hooves against cobblestones drowned him out. I froze, terror locking my legs in place.
A strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back just in time.
I gasped, my heart racing as I found myself pressed against the chest of a man, his grip firm yet careful, like he had been anticipating my fall. My breath caught in my throat, and I looked up, my eyes locking onto a familiar face.
Edward.
He was dressed differently now—his suit replaced by a long, dark coat that blended with the night, his hair slightly damp from the lingering mist in the air. But his eyes were the same, dark and filled with something I couldn’t quite place. It was as if he knew me, knew everything about me, but I still didn’t know him. Not really.
“You,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper. “You’re here.”
“I told you time flows differently here,” he said, his voice low, a hint of amusement in it, though his gaze remained serious.
“Where—” I began, but he cut me off gently.
“There are too many eyes here,” he murmured, glancing around at the people passing by. “We need to move. Now.”
Before I could protest, he took my hand and led me down a narrow alleyway, the shadows of the towering buildings swallowing us whole. My mind was still spinning, questions tumbling over themselves. I followed him, half-stumbling as the reality of my situation hit me in waves.
“Where are we?” I finally managed to ask, my voice shaking as we rounded a corner, emerging into a quiet, dimly lit street.
“London,” he replied, not looking back at me. “But not the one you know. This is 1845.”
“1845?” I echoed, disbelief filling my voice. “That’s impossible.”
“And yet here you are,” he said, his tone even, as though he was stating the most obvious fact in the world. “You touched the locket. Now you’re here.”
I stopped in my tracks, pulling my hand from his. “No. This can’t be real. I can’t be stuck in the 19th century. I need to get back. There must be a way to reverse this.”
He turned to face me, his expression softening slightly. “I know this is overwhelming, but you’re not alone in this. The locket isn’t just some artifact. It’s tied to time itself. And now, it’s tied to you.”
The weight of his words pressed down on me. I looked up at him, my pulse quickening, and for a moment, I felt the world slow, like time had bent itself around us. There was something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at me—like I was more than just a stranger who had stumbled into his world.
***
His gaze lingered on me, the space between us charged with something I couldn’t name. For all the confusion, the fear, and the surreal nature of what was happening, there was an undeniable connection between us. It hummed in the air, just beneath the surface, like a current waiting to be acknowledged.
“Why are you helping me?” I asked, my voice softer now, tinged with something I couldn’t hide.
He took a step closer, the distance between us shrinking. The shadows seemed to wrap around us, turning the world beyond into a blur. “Because I know what it’s like to be lost in time. And because you’re not meant to be here alone.”
His words struck something deep within me, and for the first time since all of this began, I felt less like I was falling and more like I had been caught. The pull between us grew stronger, a strange gravity that I couldn’t resist.
Edward reached up, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a shiver down my spine. I should have been terrified. I should have been demanding answers, demanding a way out. But all I could focus on was the warmth of his hand, the way his eyes softened as they traced the lines of my face.
“This isn’t possible,” I whispered, but even as I said the words, I knew they weren’t true. This was happening. He was happening.
“Nothing is impossible,” he said softly. His hand lingered on my cheek, and I found myself leaning into his touch. “Not when time can be bent.”
The air around us felt charged, alive, and before I could think better of it, I closed the distance between us. His lips met mine, and the world seemed to still, every worry, every doubt, fading away into the shadows. His kiss was soft, gentle at first, but there was a hunger behind it, something deeper and more complex than I could comprehend.
For a moment, I let myself sink into him, let myself forget the chaos around me. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, and I felt the weight of his presence, the undeniable sense that this—whatever this was—was important.
But just as quickly as it had begun, it ended. He pulled back, his breath uneven, his expression conflicted. “We can’t,” he murmured, stepping away.
I blinked, the warmth of the kiss still lingering on my lips. “Why not?”
He hesitated, as though there was something he couldn’t say, something that hung between us like a secret too dangerous to share. But before he could answer, the sound of footsteps echoed down the alleyway.
***
I turned, my heart pounding, and saw a figure emerging from the shadows—a woman, her face obscured by the brim of her hat. She stopped a few feet away, her gaze flicking between me and Edward, and a slow smile spread across her lips.
“Well, well,” she said, her voice smooth as silk. “It seems you’ve found her, Edward.”
Edward’s expression darkened, tension radiating from him. “Clara,” he said, his voice low, dangerous.
The woman—Clara—tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t place. “I told you she’d be a problem.”
I looked between them, confusion and fear swirling in my chest. “Who is she?”
Clara’s smile widened. “I’m the one who’s here to fix the mess you’ve made.”
Before I could react, the world around me seemed to shift again, the air growing thick with a tension that made my skin prickle. Whatever was coming, I had the distinct feeling it was only the beginning.