Their plan had been to snoop around the nearby village at night with minimal witnesses before formally meeting the locals in the morning, but Sam's mysterious excursion had changed everything. Neither she nor JB had to speak their concerns aloud to come to the mutual agreement to wait until daylight. Still, despite the dryness in her eyes and her aching feet, Sam's brain refused to shut off for the night. She was no stranger to insomnia. Ideas for new projects constantly danced in the limbo between consciousness and sleep and kept her thrashing throughout the night. Be it writing, painting, dressmaking, or simply pondering over the most recent chapter in a book she stayed up too late reading, her thoughts often refused to pause until morning. Tonight she had more than enough reason to slide out of bed and give up on sleep entirely. She'd be tired in the morning either way, so best to be honest with herself and stay awake than fight her restless imagination until dawn.

The candlelight from the bronze wall sconces on either side of her bed gave the room a dim, ripply glow, as if underwater. Her beloved new dress was draped over the back of her vanity chair. The petticoat and side hoops dangled from her doorknob. Not the ideal way to store eighteenth century clothes, but it wouldn't hurt them for one night. After all, these were new clothes, not fragile museum pieces. She wished she hadn't spent so many hours on her hair and makeup that afternoon. It was only precaution for if they met some villagers who were still out and about in the middle of the night, so she didn't have to dress like she was about to meet Louis the XV. He was miles away in Versailles, after all, having given up on the beast hunt back in 1765 when his gunman, François Antoine, killed a large wolf and brought it to the palace. Yet the attacks hadn't stopped.

She tiptoed across the cold marble floor into the candlelit hallway. On the other side of the hall, JB's bedroom door stood identical to hers with its gold boiserie and powder blue background. It, too, was ajar. She glided toward his room, hoping she wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep, but as soon as she reached the threshold, it was evident no one was there. The blanket fanned out to one side, one corner drooping over the edge. He must have left to use what she called the "secret room," which was hidden behind a bookcase in their library. It stored their twenty-first century needs such as running water, a flushing toilet, a shower, first-aid kits, flashlights, and other emergency gear that didn't belong in the 1700s. Sam suspected the room was programmed to turn into some sort of futuristic lab whenever JB went in there alone, but she knew there was no way he'd let her see anything like that.

Suddenly curious, Sam found herself drifting about his bedroom. A person's bedroom told a story, and she still knew so little about the man. She figured if he could know everything about her, there was no harm in learning a little more about her time travel companion.

The vanity in his bedroom was elegant, but not nearly as embellished as hers. From the light of a single candle in the corner, she saw that he had the basic toiletries for an aristocratic man of the era laid out on the counter—wig, powder, pomade, cologne, razor…the bare minimum, really. But what caught her attention was a flat silver box. The watery reflection of the candle wobbled on its smooth surface. A small white triangle stuck out of the side, likely from a piece of paper. Sam glanced back at the open door and listened for approaching footsteps. Nothing. Cautiously, she let her hand hover over the box.

She shouldn't, but…

The lid slid off easily and inside was a stack of stationary paper covered in blocky handwriting. She picked up the first piece of paper and squinted to read the words:

Hi JB,

I know you probably won't see this for a long time since time travel is illegal now and everything, but if you're still allowed to observe the past from where (or when?) you are, I thought I'd keep you up to date on what we've been up to.

Jordan and I are freshmen in high school now and Katherine's in eighth grade. Kevin turned one last week and so far there are no signs of a future genius yet. Just lots of messy eating and chewing on stuff.

Chip thinks it's the end of the world that Katherine and him go to different schools now, but he still lives right next door to us, so I don't see the big deal.

As for the other kids, not much is new. Gavin's in my history class and we both just about lost it when our teacher Mr. Jones pulled up a slide with a photo of the Romanov family. He looked at Gavin, then at the photo and started choking on his coffee. The rest of the class stared at Gavin too for a while, which was kind of awkward.

Anyway, hope you're not too bored now that we're done saving the world.

—Jonah

A million questions buzzed in Sam's head. Who was Jonah? How did he know JB? Who were all the other people mentioned in the letter? Sam scratched the sides of her thumbs with her index fingers. It was an old habit, one she indulged in whenever impatient or agitated, leaving the corners of her nail beds flaky and tender. Apparently she wasn't the only person outside of JB's time that he'd interacted with. She wasn't sure why it bothered her that he'd made other friends in his time travel journeys, but somehow she suddenly felt less special. She sighed and picked up the letter below Jonah's. The handwriting on this one was much neater and easier to decipher even in the dim light.

Dear JB,

Katherine here, though you can probably tell from the nice handwriting. I thought you might want to know how things have been since we last talked. To tell you the truth, everything is pretty normal. Jordan and Jonah will be fifteen and a half soon, which means they're getting ready to take their driving test. Chip and I have a bet on which one will get their license first. Chip thinks it's going to be Jonah because he always beats Jordan in video games, but I put my money on Jordan since Jordan is better at taking tests. The winner has to buy the other ice cream. I'm looking forward to two scoops of cookies n' cream when I inevitably win.

Daniella auditioned for the school musical at the high school. The musical is Anastasia, adapted from the animated movie. Would you believe she didn't even get a callback for the title role? Some girl named Angelica got the role and she looks nothing like Daniella. But I hear she has a pretty voice, so I guess she'll do fine.

Kevin wrote all over the kitchen wall yesterday, but he wrote, "I love you, Mommy," so it's not like Mom could punish him for that. Little suck up. Just kidding, it was actually funny.

Anyway, life is fairly simple for us now, but I'm grateful for that. Hope things are going well for you too. Now that you're not constantly trying to save time, maybe you can finally find yourself a girlfriend. Loosen up for once. Go on a space cruise or whatever it is people do to relax in the future.

Hope it's not too long before you can come back to visit us.

—Katherine

As confused as ever, Sam leafed through a few more letters. Most were from Jonah and Katherine, but a few were from other kids who seemed to all know each other. It was clear the letters were in no particular order, and there were at least five years' worth of writing. Sam was just about to plant the lid back onto the box when she heard someone clear their throat behind her. She shrieked and fell backwards into the vanity, sending the box and its contents flying. JB glared at her from the doorway.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" His words hit her like shards of ice. She scrambled to the floor and began to gather the fallen letters.

"I'm so sorry," she managed to croak. "I couldn't sleep and then when I saw that you weren't in your room, I—"

"You decided to snoop?" he interrupted. "Figured you'd pass the time invading my privacy?"

She set the letters back inside the box and shut the lid carefully. "I'm really sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

JB finally entered the room. Sam backed away as he marched to the vanity. He snatched the box out of her hands and stuffed it into his robe pocket. Up close, Sam noticed his hair was damp and he smelled more strongly of licorice than usual. He must have just come from a shower. Maybe licorice was a common shampoo scent in the future.

"These letters are important," he said, sounding a little less angry now. "They're from some kids I met during my last mission. I can't visit them anymore, so I programmed my elucidator to make replicas of any letters they leave for me to find. I like having physical copies to keep near me rather than just reading them through a screen." His smile was sad.

Sam didn't know why he would tell her any of this, but she was relieved that at least he didn't look furious anymore. "I'm really sorry I looked through your stuff. I can go take a shower now and you can look through my room if you want. Call it even?" She hoped the joke might cheer him up, and she did notice the corners of his mouth twitch upward for a moment.

"You can shower if you want, but I'm going to try and at least get a little sleep before morning. You should do the same."