Evangeline could still remember sitting on the steps in front of the shop between her parents and feeling like the luckiest girl in all the world.
Evangeline didn’t know how it was possible that she could have traveled back in time to this day, but she didn’t need for it to be possible. She wanted it so much—to be back at the shop, to be with her parents, to be safe—she was willing to believe in the impossibility of it all.
A shadow moved in the shop. Evangeline saw it through the window, and although it was just a shadow, she knew who it must have belonged to.
“Father!” she cried as she stepped inside the curiosity shop.
It smelled just as she remembered—like the wooden crates that were always going in and out, and the violet perfume her mother used to wear.
Evangeline’s boots clacked against the checkered floor as she went deeper inside, crying, “Father!”
“Sweetheart,” called her mother, “don’t come back here!”
Evangeline’s knees went weak at the sound of her mother’s voice. It had been so long since she had heard it. She didn’t care what it said, no earthly force could have stopped Evangeline from following it.
She raced toward the back of the shop, where a door disguised as a wardrobe opened up to the rear storeroom. But her parents weren’t there. There were only open crates, a half-finished window display, and piles of other whatnots that Evangeline didn’t pay attention to. If she had remembered this particular day correctly, she’d find her parents in the attic filling up balloons for the following day.
The stairs were at the back of the room. But as soon as she reached them, her father’s voice boomed from above: “Honey, don’t come up here!”
“I just need to see you for a second!” She quickly climbed the stairs, her heart swelling with hope and fear that if she wasn’t fast enough, she might be plunged back to the present, and that she might not see her mother and father ever again.
When she felt the doorknob beneath her hand, solid and real, she nearly cried. The door swung open to a room full of birthday balloons. Lavender and purple and white and gold, all bouncing on springy pink strings. They were the same ones from her birthday that year, only like everything else that day, they were brighter and bouncier and there were so many more of them than she remembered.
“Sweetheart, you’re not supposed to be here,” said her mother.
“You’re spoiling the surprise,” added her father. His voice was clear and sounded near, but Evangeline couldn’t see him or her mother through all the birthday balloons.
“Mother! Father! Please come out.”
It felt like a dream that had turned to a nightmare as Evangeline shoved through the balloons. Every time she pushed one aside, another two popped into its place.
“Mother! Father!” She began popping balloons in between her cries, but more kept on appearing.
“Honey, what are you doing up there?” called her father.
Now his voice sounded as if it was coming from down the stairs.
She knew it was a trick, just like this awful room.
But the problem with hope was also what made it so wonderful. Once a bit of hope had come to life, it was difficult to kill. And now that Evangeline had heard her parents’ voices, she couldn’t help but hope that if she just ran fast enough, she would see their faces as well.
She nearly tripped on her skirts as she started down the stairs, rushing back into the room with the endless curiosity crates. As with the balloons, there were more crates than she remembered, an endless labyrinth. And just beyond, she could hear her mother saying, “Sweetheart, where are you?”
This time her mother’s gentle voice made Evangeline’s throat go tight. It was so close, and yet she had a feeling that was all it would ever be. Close, but never quite there.
“I’m sorry,” said a new voice.
Evangeline jolted and glanced to her side. Only the young man who’d just spoken didn’t have a face meant for glancing at. One look made her breath catch. He had an incredibly handsome face, and the greenest eyes she’d ever seen, eyes so green it made her wonder if she’d ever seen green eyes before.
“Why are you sorry?” Evangeline asked. “Did you do this to me?”
The Handsome Stranger’s mouth tipped down. “I’m afraid I’m not that powerful. This is how the Cursed Forest traps you. It gives you just enough to chase, but it never lets you find what you want.”
“Sweetheart, where are you?” her mother repeated.
Evangeline looked toward the sound of her voice. She believed the Handsome Stranger was right. In a way, she’d feared all along that this was too miraculous to be true. People fell into holes and wells, not into the best day of their lives, and yet all she wanted to do was run through the crates and chase the sound of her mother’s voice. She just wanted one last glimpse, one last minute, one last hug.
The Handsome Stranger didn’t look as if he was going to try to stop her if she ran after her mother again. He stood so still he could have been one of the inanimate objects pulled from the crates.
He didn’t blink, didn’t twitch, didn’t move so much as a finger. He was dressed a bit like a soldier in exquisite leather armor, but it didn’t appear to be like any other armor she’d seen that day. And although he wore armor, she didn’t notice any weapons on his person, nor did he have a mustache, so he couldn’t have been one of Apollo’s guards.
“Are you a trap of the forest, too?” she asked. “Are you here for some sort of bargain? You’ll let me see my parents if I give you a year of my life?”
“Would you make that bargain?” he asked.
Evangeline considered it. There was something about being so close to her parents, about this almost-place she was in, that made the lonely ache in her chest hurt more than usual. It was tempting to give up a year of time just for a hug, just to be held by people she loved, who loved her back and who she knew without a doubt wanted nothing but the best for her. She wanted to forget for a moment that all she had was a mysterious husband, that people kept trying to kill her, and that the one person she was inexplicably drawn to was the most dangerous murderer of all.
A year didn’t seem like such a bad price to pay to escape from all of it. But her parents would hate it if she did that.
“No, I don’t want to make that deal,” Evangeline murmured.
“Good,” the Handsome Stranger said. “And no, I’m not another trap. I’m in a trap of my own.”
He took a slow step forward, moving with a surprising amount of grace for someone so tall and powerfully built. “The Cursed Forest brings everyone into a place that replicates the best day of their life. Then it gives people just enough of that day to make them want to search for more.”
“So you’re in a different day than I am?” Evangeline asked.
The Handsome Stranger nodded. “The forest can change its setting, but it can’t hide the people inside from one another. That’s how I found you.”
“Why would you want to find me? Who are you?”
“You knew me as Chaos. I’m your friend,” he said. But there was something strange about the way he said the word friend, as if he wasn’t entirely sure.