Only a Monster by Vanessa Len Page A

happened. We were there.”
    â€œDon’t you understand what I’m saying?”
    â€œNo,” Joan told him. Why did he even care about the accuracy of a stupid book? His family had died tonight and so had hers. “Your records are wrong,” she said. “Obviously.”
    Aaron’s expression said this was pure, outrageous blasphemy. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He got up and stalked to the bathroom.
    After a few minutes, the shower started.
    Joan looked up at the stain on the ceiling and considered her options. She should find somewhere else to stay for the night. It didn’t make sense to stick with Aaron. He despised her, and the feeling was mutual. And, according to Ruth, the Hunts and the Olivers had always been enemies.
    And yet . . . If she was honest with herself, she didn’t want to be alone tonight. Not with the sound of Gran’s dying breaths still in her ears. Even Aaron Oliver’s company would be better than that.
    Aaron’s shower seemed to take forever. Joan closed her eyes. She didn’t sleep. The clock ticked on the wall, marking the seconds. Eventually, the water stopped. The bathroom door squeaked.
    Joan opened her eyes. Aaron was coming out of the bathroom, shirt half-buttoned. His hair was darker when it was wet.
    He’d put all his clothes back on—as Joan had. They were both still dressed to flee.
    â€œWe have to leave in the morning,” Aaron said. He’d obviously been thinking about it in the shower.
    Joan realized then that she’d been holding out some small hope that tomorrow could end with Dad picking her up at an airport far, far away from here. But that couldn’t happen. It wasn’t safe for Dad to be around her.
    â€œI don’t think he’ll stop until he kills us all,” she said.
    â€œI know.” Aaron stared down at his hands. “We don’t have a choice, then, do we? We have to leave this time.”
    A jolt ran through Joan at his words. She felt like a struck bell.
    If they traveled back in time, they could warn everyone. They could save everyone.
    But now, in this quiet room, she remembered how monsters traveled. To leave this time, they’d have to steal time from humans.
    And it mattered. Joan couldn’t lie to herself. She’d have given anything for even five more minutes with Gran. With any member of her family. Every day of life mattered. Every minute mattered.
    Could she really do this? Could she deliberately steal time from someone’s life?
    She looked down at her hands in her lap, and saw they were shaking.
    â€œYes,” she said. A feeling of wrongness welled up inside her. She couldn’t do this. This was wrong. This was really wrong.This was something only a monster would do.
    She pushed down the wrongness until all she could feel of it was a lingering horror. If only a monster would do this, then she could do this. She was a monster, wasn’t she?
    She lifted her head and met Aaron’s eyes. “Yes,” she said. “We have to stop this from happening. We have to go back.”

Seven

    Joan woke to sun streaming on her face. She heard rustling sounds nearby; someone was opening the curtains. “No,” she grumbled. “Five more minutes.”
    â€œWake up,” a boy said.
    Joan opened her eyes fast and scrambled to sit up. She was in a strange, small room. A hotel room. Then it all came back to her in a gut punch. Gran was dead. Bertie. Aunt Ada. Uncle Gus. She remembered the sound Ruth had made when they’d stabbed her.
    And Nick . . . Nick had done it. That felt like another punch.
    Aaron Oliver was leaning against the wardrobe door. He was fully dressed, one hand in his pocket. “Get up,” he said coolly. “We’ve almost slept through it.”
    â€œSlept through what?” Joan said.
    Aaron looked clean and crisp, even though he was in the same clothes as