The Island, 1997

I watch with smug satisfaction as Charles Widmore takes his final steps on this island. He makes his way across the docks towards the submarine that will take him far, far away from this place.

"Charles!" I call, finally striding out onto the dock. "I came to say goodbye."

"No you didn't," he retorts. "You came to gloat."

"No," I deny, "don't act as if I wanted this. You brought this on yourself."

Charles fixes me with a penetrating glare. "Are you quite certain you want to do this, Benjamin?"

"You left the island regularly. You had a daughter with an outsider. You broke the rules Charles—"

"And what makes you think you deserve to take what's mine?"

"Because I won't be selfish," I answer without pause. "Because I'll sacrifice anything to protect this island."

"You wouldn't sacrifice Alex."

"You're the one who wanted her dead, Charles, not the island."

"And what about Cora?"

This throws me off. "What does she have to do with anything?"

"Would you sacrifice her to save this island?"

He's lost it. These are the final ramblings of an old man who has lost at his own game, and I refuse to play along. "We're done here," I tell the men carrying his few belongings onto the sub. "You can take him now." I catch the eye of a young man as he bends down to grab a suitcase, and he tries to hurry away at the sight of me. "David?"

He halts halfway to the sub and slowly turns around. "Yes, Mr. Linus?"

I sigh. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't let you leave on that sub. You know your father doesn't allow you on trips to the mainland."

"Come on," he pleads. "Just this once? I'll be back by the end of the week, I swear! Oh, no."

"David!" I turn around and find Richard walking out on the dock. "What do you think you're doing?"

Brushing his black hair out of his face, David holds up a hand in surrender. "Look, dad, hear me out. I'm twenty-two. I think I can handle a trip to the mainland."

Charles raises an annoyed eyebrow as Richard yanks the young man by his arm and escorts him back to the shore. "Nobody ever told you who his mother was, did they?"

"David?" I ask, watching him and Richard walk back down the dock.

"He was Cora's child." Charles shakes his head like it's a joke I don't understand. "You knew nothing about that woman."

I rack my brain for any piece of information that would refute what he's saying, but he very well may be telling the truth. "Even if she was his mother, what does that have to do with anything?"

"She was a lunatic. She tried to kill me without provocation. She broke more rules than I could ever hope to break, and you all made excuses for her behavior. You all coddled her and never even contemplated exile. Why is she exempt? That woman is a threat to our way of life. "

I catch the subtle error. "Is?"

Charles smiles. "I'm afraid she isn't quite done with us yet."

I don't know what he thinks he's doing, but I'm no fool. I know she's dead. All of the evidence leads to that logical conclusion. "Goodbye, Charles."

"You believe she's dead."

"That's because she is." I nod at Stephen to take Charles away.

Stephen grabs Widmore roughly by the arm and pulls him towards to submarine.

Over his shoulder, Charles has time for one last comment. "Then why hasn't anyone found a body?"

"What do I have in my pocket? You all get one guess, starting with Doug."

The beefy boy with a bad haircut stares up at me with his wide, watery eyes. "Uh . . . a button?"

"Wrong. You—" I point to the student sitting next to him. "What do I have in my pocket?"

"Lint?" he guesses.

"Wrong." One by one the students come up with hilarious responses to my question. A girl named Susie thinks I'm hiding gold nuggets. A boy named Samuel thinks I'm hiding chicken nuggets. I make my way to the middle of the classroom and call on Annie.

"A book?" she guesses, looking hopeful.

"Wrong," I say and turn to Ben. He's already shrunken down in his seat.

"A . . ." His eyes dart from side to side behind his glasses, scoping out the classmates staring at him. "A . . . a ring?"

My heart stops in my chest, fingers frozen in my pocket. Ben's wedding ring dangles in limbo between my thumb and index fingers. I keep his ring with me wherever I go. Sometimes it helps when I begin to feel particularly low, and I didn't feel like making up a story to placate the nosy Initiative, so I keep it tucked away in my pocket.

I stare into the wide blue eyes of the same person who gave me this ring and mumble, "Wrong."

I make my way to the back of the class as the energy slowly drains out of me. My chest fills with an intense sadness. I want Ben to come back. I want to go home to my family.

I want my dead father to stop following me around the classroom.

When I reach Indiana, she slaps a hand on her desk and answers, "An animal!"

Having become accustomed to repeating wrong, it takes my brain a moment to process a different response. "CORRECT!" I yell, making everyone jump. "Alright, Indiana, what type of animal is in my pocket?"

At this exact moment, Frogger decides to give himself away. "For the love of all that is green, can you speed things along?" he croaks loudly. "This pocket is unbearable!"

"A tree frog!" Indiana exclaims. "I win! Do I win?"

"Sure. Here, you get to hold Frogger first."

"Hooray!"

Frogger makes one of his famous leaps of faith and suction cups to one of the lenses on Indiana's glasses.

"Okay, class," I announce. "Today's lesson is going to focus on biology. Don't bother getting your textbooks out. Today we're not going to be studying out of a book." The class grows loud with nervous whispers. "Quiet down, guys. I have gifts for you all."

I spent the better part of my week sewing Attack on Titan cloaks for the entire classroom. I made them out of a deep green color and stitched the symbol of the Survey Corps on the back.

The show focused on a medieval kingdom surrounded by an impossibly high wall. The wall was created to keep out the monstrous Titans—a group of giants who lack communication skills and enjoy feasting on humans. The largest Titan in the group was made up entirely of muscles. No skin. Creepy as hell.

And today he'll be educational!

"Everyone grab a cloak and throw it on over your clothes. We're going to hold class outdoors in the field." In the show, the cloaks were worn by soldiers trained in the art of killing the Titans. I've thought up a game we can play in order to learn the muscles of the body and also work in some physical education at the same time. Recess and a lecture.

"The rules are simple. If I tag you, you have to name a muscle I point at." I spin around to show off the costume I made that looks exactly like the skinless muscle body of the Titan. Every muscle from my neck all the way down to my ankles have been carefully etched out onto a jumpsuit. "If you get my question wrong, you have to go sit down. The game ends when I've defeated you all."

Annie and Ben have already taken off, hand in hand, towards the trees. The other students fumble around, unsure of what to do. I leap towards them, and they scatter like bugs.

"You can run," I yell, "but you can't hide!"

"Have a good weekend." I hug Joanna and ruffle her hair before she walks out the door. "Have a good weekend, guys."

"Bye, Miss Collins," Annie chirps happily, and I lean down to hug her.

Ben hurries past me before I can even attempt a farewell.

"Can I keep Frogger?" Indiana asks on her way out.

I smile at the fact that Frogger is still attached to her glasses. "Make sure to give him a bowl of water to swim in, and he's all yours."

I hug the last of the students goodbye and lock up the classroom. On my way back to Sawyer and Juliet's house, I run into Lydia. Dark black oil streaks stain the side of her face. She raises her eyebrows when she sees me.

"Hey," she says.

"Motor pool, huh? Didn't really take you for a car kind of girl."

Lydia shrugs. "Yeah, they just sort of stuck me there. Where are you headed? You want to go get some lunch?"

Richard's message from Jacob replays in my head. I don't have much time to explain things to Sawyer before I have to leave for the beach. "Love to, but I'm actually on my way home right now. I've got a lot to do. Lots of, uh, papers to grade and . . . you know. But I'll catch you later, okay?"

Lydia salutes me and continues towards to cafeteria.

"LaFleur?" I call when I reach his house. "Hello?"

"He's at the station," Juliet calls from the couch. "Left about an hour ago with Miles. Said it was urgent."

"How're you doing?" I ask her.

She shrugs.

"How's the baby?"

Juliet's blonde brows scrunch together. "I just don't understand. By all accounts . . . I should be dead by now." She rubs a hand over her eyes.

"You look tired. You should take a nap."

To my great surprise, she chuckles.

"When was the last time you had an ultrasound?" I ask.

"The first week we got here. They said it was protocol. The baby . . . she's perfectly fine."

"She?" A wide smile tugs across my face. "Do you have a name picked out yet?"

Juliet pulls her lips up on one side in a defiant grin. "Rachel."

"After your sister."

This knowledge surprises Juliet, and I wonder if she ever told me about her sister. Oh well. Too late now. "Yes," says Juliet.

"Are you excited?"

"I want to be." One of her hands finds the roundness of her stomach and smooths it. "I didn't even get to tell him."

I'm about to ask who, but thankfully I stop myself before the word can escape my lips.

Since Goodwin wasn't sent to the tail section, he wasn't killed off by Ana Lucia. He lived a few weeks longer in this reality than he did in the show. I guess those few weeks were all that was needed to screw up more of this confusing plot.

Juliet is very good at hiding pain. I should know, since I spent the majority of my youth under the hard shell of false indifference. The mask she wears to fool people into thinking she's fine doesn't fool me.

I take a seat next to her on the couch.

"What is it that you wanted to tell James?" asks Juliet.

"He lets you call him James?" I fold my arms across my chest. "He jumps on my case when I call him Sawyer."

"Pregnancy perks," Juliet jokes. "I also get all the ice cream I want."

Relaxed at the sight of her smile, I sink back against the couch and sigh. "I need you to tell James I'll be gone this whole weekend."

"Is there something wrong?"

"I don't know. Jacob wants to talk to me. It could literally be anything."

"I'll pack you a backpack." Juliet hoists herself out of her seat and makes for the kitchen. "You want peanut butter and jelly? We got some really good blackberry jelly on the last submarine shipment."

"I'm planning on leaving at sundown. It'll make it easier to sneak around security cameras."

Juliet closes the fridge. "I'm not sure James will like that very much. He hates it when you leave at night. Stays up worrying about you. I can hear him."

"What?" I sigh, throwing an arm over my face. "Why does he feel the need to protect me?"

"Because you remind him of his daughter." The realization of her admission slowly registers. "Please don't mention I told you. He admitted it in the strictest of confidence. I'm not even entirely sure he meant to confide in me."

If what she says is true, it would account for most of Sawyer's confusing behavior—his almost immediate interest in my safety the day we crashed on this island, his less-than-offensive comments towards me when by all accounts I should be his easiest target for ridicule, his constant need to give me paternal advice, and his genuine concern for my physical and mental wellbeing.

I am making up for the daughter he was too selfish to raise in the real world.

"We should form a club," I mumble. "We can call ourselves Team Daddy Issues."

"I can hear you," my father grumbles from the doorway.

"Good," I snap back.

"What's good?" Juliet asks.

"Nothing," I say. "But I think I'll take you up on that sandwich."

"How are classes going?"

"Fabulous." I finish strapping David into the baby carrier Ellie helped me make and hike the straps up on my shoulders. "The kids are all really sweet. And making lesson plans are a lot more fun that I anticipated. What have I missed?"

"David is learning to crawl."

I spin around. "What?"

"Well," Richard clarifies, "he's not exactly there yet, but he can roll himself over."

I watch as David gurgles and blows raspberries, and my stomach begins to sink. I'm going to miss it. I'm going to miss his first word and his first steps. I'm going to miss everything, and I don't know how to prevent that.

I sit on the farthest toe of the four-toed statue, gazing out at the ocean. David squirms in my lap until I let Jacob take him.

Jacob holds out a knuckle for David to teethe on. "He's getting big."

"Don't remind me."

"I hear you're having trouble keeping your animals safe."

"Yeah," I sigh. "Dharma seems to think it's a free for all. They keep capturing animals, and I . . . I don't even want to think about what they're doing to them. So, what's this job Richard mentioned?"

Jacob bounces David on his knee. "How would you like to take over as the Temple's new guardian?"

I raise a suspicious eyebrow. "That depends on what happened to the old guardian."

Jacob smiles. "Died at the comfortable age of eighty-seven. Peacefully in his sleep, I might add."

"What would I have to do? I'm sort of obligated to teach at Dharma now."

"There would be a new Keeper of the Temple who would permanently stay to protect the people and relics there. You would help keep the peace. Make final security decisions. Keep the Dharma away from the sanctuary."

"I think I can do that."

"Good," says Jacob and hands David back to me. "I suggest you move all animals who wish for protection to the Temple immediately. They will be safe behind the walls."

"Okay."

Jacob silently studies me for a moment. "How good are you with a bow and arrow?"

I hold the expertly carved bow in my hands and marvel at the intricate designs etched all along the wood. It's the most beautiful bow I've ever seen in my life.

It's also not the first time I've seen it. This is the bow that was in my wardrobe back before I time traveled. Back when things still made a moderate amount of sense. I pluck the bowstring.

"Here." Richard dumps a pile of sticks next to me at my spot near the campfire. "Will this be enough for now?"

I have no idea how to make arrows, but I'll need to learn if I plan on making them my main source of defense. "I should hope so. Take a seat," I say, patting the log next to me. "I have a feeling we're going to be here awhile."

I yawn so hard my eyes water. Traveling back and forth from camp to the Barracks is starting to wear me out. Richard suggested I cut down my visits to every other day, but I refuse to lose any extra time I can get with David. I rub at my tired eyes and smile at the class.

"Today's lesson, unfortunately, will focus on math." I point to the board where I wrote Algebra Equations—Solving for X Y and ZZZZzzzzz. "I added in the extra Z's because this crap is about to put you to sleep."

Thankfully, the class laughs.

"Now I know this level of math can seem scary at first, but I expect excellence from each and every one of you. You are all capable of learning these lessons if you apply yourself. My job is to make sure you continue to strive for—"

A knock on the classroom door interrupts me. I open it to reveal Horace. "Hey, man. Just coming to check up on you. How's everything going? Hello class!"

"Hello Mr. Goodspeed," the class echoes.

"Hello, Horace," I say, stepping aside so he can walk in. "You want me to pull you up a chair?"

"Nah," he says, waving away my offer. "I'm just here to sit in on a class. You're not in trouble or anything. I'm just required to, you know, make sure everyone's doing their job. Just pretend I'm not even here."

"Of course," I agree, quickly erasing the extra Z's I wrote on the board. My palms have already begun to sweat. I like this job, and I don't want to lose it. With the cheeriest smile I can muster, I say, "Okay, class, who wants to solve the first problem?"

There's a moment of still silence, and then Annie's hand shoots up.

Blessed girl. "Annie, thank you for volunteering. Come on up."

On my way back to Sawyer's house, I stumble upon an academic mugging.

"What do you think you're doing?" I yell. Doug and his friends bolt off when I stomp my way over. Papers flutter down to the soggy grass, quickly soaking up water and smearing the pencil marks.

"Teacher's pet," I hear one of them laugh as they disappear into the courtyard.

"Miss Collins," Annie says on the verge of tears, "Doug stole my homework. He took it out of my binder. And—"

"It's okay, sweetheart," I soothe. "I know you do your homework."

"Miss Collins, he stole Ben's, too."

Ben kneels in the damp grass, frantically trying to grab all of the papers Doug ripped out of his folder. I kneel down beside him and begin gathering handfuls of soggy homework and quizzes.

"This isn't the first time this has happened, has it?" I ask. When Ben doesn't answer, I repeat the question.

"No," he squeaks out, and finally raises his eyes to look at me.

"You two won't have to worry about Doug anymore," I say. "I'm going to have a little chat with him later today."

"No," Ben exclaims randomly. "He . . . he'll only bully us more."

I smile at him, and his eyes dart back to the ground. "I have my ways. Now, you two better get on home. It's getting dark, and I'm sure your parents will want you home for dinner soon."

Annie beams. "Thank you, Miss Collins." She gathers the last of her school supplies and heads home.

Ben stays seated in the grass. I debate whether or not to leave when he looks up and whispers, "I knew you'd come back." A smile spreads across his normally frightened face. "Are you here to take me with you?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Are you here to take me back to your people? I've been waiting. I've been patient."

Huh?

"You've met him before," my father explains. "Remember? When you were time traveling? That was a year or two ago."

Right. I made a promise, didn't I? But I can't take him with me. Not now. "Not yet," I answer after a pause, and Ben's face falls. "There are still some things I need to do first."

Disappointment floods his face. "Oh."

I watch him clutch his papers to his chest and hurry away to his house.

I had Richard take David to the Temple. I feel safer knowing that if—God forbid—the Initiative ever tried to attack the Others camp, at least David wouldn't be there. The hike back to the Temple is peaceful up until my father opens his mouth.

"Aren't you ever going to ask me how I died?"

I spin around with exaggerated cheer and ask, "So, dad, how did you die?"

He frowns at my smile. "You have serious problems, kid."

I spin back around and immediately drop the smile. "I have you to thank for that, asshole."

"The hell did you just say?"

The tone of his voice makes me break out in nervous sweat. I've heard that tone all my life, and even after a year of being across the country from him, it still has the power to strangle me with fear. "I said—" I turn around to face him "—You're an asshole." He steps right up to my face, but I only laugh nervously. "What are you going to do? Hit me? You can't touch anything. You're as useless dead as you were alive. What the hell are you even doing here, anyway?"

Isabella starts to explain.

"What is she saying?"

"Italian and Spanish are roughly seventy percent similar," my father scowls. "Just pay attention and you'd know what she's saying."

I try to understand her, but even though I can pick up pieces of words, the same word in Spanish sounds different to me in Italian, and I just end up more pissed off than I was before. "Can you just translate, please?"

"She says it has something to do with unfinished business."

"Unfinished business?"

"Yeah," he continues. "Says that spirits are trapped here until their unfinished business gets resolved. Says that you have to—" He stops suddenly and falls silent, even though Isabella keeps explaining.

"What?" I prod. "What do I have to do?"

My father's mouth opens and closes without a response.

"What?" I yell.

"She says I cannot leave here until you forgive me."

For a long time, I cannot find the words I need to sufficiently portray my feelings.

A crude version comes out instead. "Kiss my ass." I smack away a vine as I tromp to the Temple.

"Cora—"

"Seriously," I say in a deadly tone, "screw you, dad."

He drifts along beside me. "Cora, would you just listen to reason?"

"YOU RUINED MY LIFE!"

The chattering birds in the branch above us fall silent.

"You ruined my life! Do you even realize that? No. No, you don't! I can't do anything without the memory of you screwing everything up! You made me weak! You made me paranoid! I had depression because of you! I had to learn how to socialize with people like a normal human being because I was so worried I'd befriend someone like you that I chose instead to live completely alone! And you have the audacity to ask for my forgiveness?"

"We'll both get what we want," he pleads. "I'll get off this island, and you'll be rid of me. See? Win win."

"I hate you," I seethe through clenched teeth. "I hate you, you son of a bitch, and I would rather burn in Hell for all eternity than forgive you for what you did to me."

As I turn to escape behind the sanctuary of the Temple walls, I catch the disappointed look on Isabella's face.

"You think you've got everything figured out, right?" my father spits out. "You think you know me? You don't know a damn thing."

"And guess what? I don't care to rectify that, dad! I don't give a shit about you!"

"Cora," he says, and he sounds incredibly tired. "Can you please just do this one thing? I'm sorry I wasn't the father I should have been. I'm sorry, okay? Can you just forgive me and let me go?"

"You made my life a living Hell."

"I made your life a living Hell?" he spits out. "Everything I did was to try and protect you, you ungrateful little shit! I moved across the country for you and your mother! I got a shitty back-breaking construction job to support your lazy ass! This is the thanks I get?"

"Wow!" I exclaim furiously. "Thanks, Dad! I'm so happy to have such a loving and caring father as you!" I feel like my skull is about to explode when my father begins to snicker. "You think this is funny?" I scream. "You think being the worst father of all time is funny?"

"Your ignorance is amusing, not necessarily funny. We never told you. Your mother wouldn't let me."

"Never told me what?" I snarl.

He gazes off into the darkness with one last shake of his head. "You're not my daughter."