Jack Crawford is the one to call and tell her the man who tried to kill her and Wally is dead. She canât quite bring herself to ask about Will, but Crawford eventually gets around to it. Will is gone. So is Lecter. He doesnât know if theyâre alive. Thereâs a lot of blood and it probably doesnât all belong to the other guy.
Sheâs still in the hospital and Crawford says heâs sending guards for her room. Theyâll go with her to the house when sheâs discharged, but he recommends not staying there. The FBI can set her up somewhere else for the time being. She thanks him and he says she doesnât sound surprised.
âRetrospect,â she explains. âThat feeling like you shouldâve known better, it turns out it is kind of like time travel after all.â
âAre you sure you donât want anything fancier?â she asks. âHave friends over, rent a banquet room at a nice restaurantâŠâ
Will smiles at her. âYou know Iâm not a fancy guy. Iâd barely know what to do with myself in a nice restaurant.â His smile turns to a look of worry. âBut if you want to wait and plan something biggerââ
âNo, not at all!â She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze. âMy stepmother always said it was tacky to have a big second wedding anyway. An excuse to get free gifts, she said. I was just thinking of you, this being your first.â
He gives her hand a squeeze in return. âI just want us to be married.â
The door to the judgeâs office opens. A man peers at them over his glasses. âGraham and Foster? Youâre up.â
âWe should get married,â Will says between bites of his breakfast. The notebook is on the table in front of him, half its pages torn out. âWill you marry me?â
Molly almost drops her coffee cup and has to steady it with both hands. âThatâs a bit sudden! I-I just moved in last night!â
âIs that a no?â he asks.
âYes!â she hurries to say. âI mean, no itâs not a âno,â because itâs a yes!â
His brows go up. His face breaks into one of those room-brightening smiles she hardly ever sees. âReally? Do you mean it?â
She nods so hard her ponytail almost comes undone. âI have to talk to Wallyââ
âOh of course,â Will agrees.
âBut heâs crazy about you,â she says. âIâm sure heâll be as happy as I am!â
He gets up from his seat and pulls her into a hug that has her toes barely touching the floor. He keeps whispering something as he peppers the top of her head with kisses. Sheâs laughing and crying so hard it takes her a few seconds to realize itâs just âthank youâ over and over again.
Will is still clearing out some of his dresser space when she comes in with the last box of her clothes.
âWeâre going to have to get a bigger place,â she says.
He snorts. âOr at least a bigger dresser.â
He tosses an armful of shirts onto the bed. A notebook lands with them and falls open to a page of calculations.
âI didnât know you were into physics,â she says. She picks up the book; there are actually many pages of calculations. âWill, have you been trying to figure out actual, honest-to-goodness time travel? What are you trying to go back in time to change?â
He glances over his shoulder. âTh-thatâs not mine. Itâs from an old case. Jack Crawford sent it to me, said it didnât seem to have any bearing on the case.â
She canât stop poring over the numbers. âThis is amazing. Did the case involve H.G. Wells or something? You know I was a physics major for almost three years, right?â
He comes over and plucks the notebook from her hands. He tosses it to the floor. When she makes a sound of protest, he takes her hands and puts them on his shoulders. âThereâs no such thing as time travel,â he says.
He cuts her off. âItâs all just⊠retrospect,â he says. âWhich isnât the same thing as time travel at all.â
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