Chapter 9

"Wow," Miranda whispers. "I totally forgot about that."

"Wait," Eliza says, sounding confused. "Eacker thinks Philip is dead?"

I nod. "After Philip was shot, I told Eacker that he was dead to keep him from shooting again. Eacker left… but now, if he sees Philip alive… he might just shoot him in the middle of the street to finish the job for good."

"And what about Burr?" Mr. Hamilton interrupts. "Is the duel with him still on?"

Philip sighs heavily, running his good hand through his hair.

"Um- can I have a word with Kay, please?" Miranda blurts.

I shoot her a puzzled glance, as does the rest of the table. Eliza nods at us, and we stand. Miranda pulls me out of the kitchen and into the living room, where nobody else will be able to hear us.

"Philip needs to die," she whispers.

I stare at her in shock.

"No, not actually die," she corrects herself quickly. "But the entire world has to think he's dead."

"I know," I agree. "If anybody knows he's alive, Eacker will kill him."

"Not just because of that," Miranda says.

I tilt my head, confused.

"In history, Philip died," Miranda continues. "Now that he's alive, history is totally changed. He needs to be dead in order for everything to be set right again."

I nod slowly, understanding. "So he needs to fake his death to the entire world. Even his siblings need to think he's dead." I swallow hard. I can't even imagine how Philip's brothers and sisters will react to the news.

"But where will he go?" Miranda replies. "I mean, the only people who know he survived are you, me, Eliza, Alexander, and that doctor who treated him last night. So getting people to think he's dead shouldn't be much of a problem, right? But then what? He can't live here anymore."

We're both silent for a moment, thinking hard. And then I remember something.

"What about… Lafayette?" I suggest. The more I think about it, the better this idea seems. "Lafayette was one of Alexander's closest friends. They were practically family. He lives in France. Philip could live with him."

Miranda bites her lip thoughtfully. "I guess that could work…" She hesitates. "But what are we going to tell his parents? They're not going to want to part with their son."

"We have to try," I answer. Together, we head back into the kitchen.

The Hamiltons look up at us as we take our seats. Mandy and I exchange glances.

"We might have a solution," I begin, "but, Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, you may not like it."

"What's the idea?" Philip asks warily.

"Well…" I take a deep breath. "You could go to France."

Nobody speaks. I can feel eight pairs of eyes focused on me.

"Mr. Hamilton… you have a friend that lives in France, right?"

"Lafayette," Alexander answers, understanding dawning across his face. "In order to protect Philip's life, everyone needs to believe that he's dead."

"But… what about Dr. Jacob?" Eliza argues. "And… what about us? What are we supposed to tell the rest of our children? And we're supposed to just send Philip off to France?"

"I suppose we could still go to visit once a year, if we did it quietly," Alexander counters.

"I'm going to France?" Philip says, bewildered.

"And how would he even get there?" Eliza persists. "Who's going to take him to France?"

"I don't need to be accompanied," Philip pouts. "I'm practically an adult."

"Dr. Jacob!" Alexander exclaims, completely ignoring his son. "We've known the doctor for so long. We can trust him. He'd be glad to take Philip to France; you know how he's always wanted an excuse to travel the world for his research. After dropping Philip off, Jacob can take the next boat back home."

"Okay," Eliza whispers finally. "If it will save his life, we can send him away." She looks at Philip. "What do you say, son?"

He smiles. "As long as you guys come and visit. And… don't tell my siblings that I'm dead. Please. Don't lie to them. They'll be able to keep the secret."

"All right, son," Mr. Hamilton assures him. "We'll tell them the truth."

"So… he's going to France?" Miranda asks in shock. I don't think she actually expected our plan to work.

"Yep," Philip grins. "I'm going to France!"

"Oh," Eliza says suddenly. "Shouldn't we check with Lafayette first?"

Mr. Hamilton shrugs. "Laf adores Philip. There won't be an issue."

"Now all we need to do is figure out what to tell Mr. Burr," Philip says.

Eliza stands up. "I'll go talk to him. I'll tell him about what happened last night and I'll let him know that Philip died. He'll call off the duel."

Eliza sweeps out of the kitchen. I hear the front door of the house open and shut as she leaves.

"I can't believe I'm leaving," Philip says quietly. "I'm faking my death."

"It's the only way," Mr. Hamilton sighs. "I'm sorry. But Lafayette will make sure you have a good life in France."

"I know," Philip agrees. "And I know how to speak French. I shouldn't have that much trouble fitting in."

"All right then, it's settled." Alexander stands, pushing back his chair. "Philip, come with me upstairs. We'll pack your things, and I'll write a letter to Lafayette telling him to expect you."

He then turns to us. "Girls, make yourselves comfortable."

He and Philip exit the kitchen. I hear their footsteps thump on the stairs.

"Miranda," I say to my best friend. "How are we going to get home?"

Her face pales. "I… I don't know. We got here by singing Hamilton lyrics while touching that magic sink, but…"

"... I doubt we'll find a magic sink here in the past," I finish with a sigh.

She swallows hard. "Kay… what if we can never get back?"

It's something I tried to avoid thinking about before. In the back of my mind, I held on to the hope that we would somehow stumble across a time machine that would take us back to the future. But what if that never happened?

What if Miranda was right?

Would we ever be able to find a way home?