Ephemeral Echoes

In Between Our Finger

I and Jeremiah immediately mounted our horses to cross the scorching terrain and reach Aunt Bertha's house.

The sun, heating my skin, hung high above our heads, leaving little time for us to chat casually.

Our sole focus was guiding our horses as swiftly as possible through the scorching heat.

Midway through the journey, the urgency gradually dissipated. I slowly loosened my grip, allowing my horse to slow down to a more leisurely pace.

"So, what have you found out so far?" Jeremiah asked, also slowing the speed of his horse.

"Not much, almost nothing. I don't know if that's the truth or if we haven't looked hard enough," I answered disappointed at my unproductive actions.

I began unraveling my tale to Jeremiah, disclosing everything I had experienced since my first time-travel trip to this era, to the night when Emma suddenly disappeared without a trace.

I also recounted all the peculiarities and oddities I sensed until I ended up here.

"What do you think?" I asked, seeking his perspective.

Jeremiah looked at me seriously before responding, "I think, what's slowing you down is yourselves. You can't be a team because you can't trust each other. If you had trusted each other from the start, this wouldn't have been as hard as it is now."

"That's the problem. I've said before that I can't easily trust them because I'm sure there's at least one person in this friendship who's involved with the killer, or maybe even the killer."

"Maybe they think the same way I do," I continued more casually.

Jeremiah furrowed his brow, "But what's happening here isn't just one story, right? It's about you too."

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

"You keep wasting time with George and not focusing on one story you've created," Jeremiah stated.

I incredulously smiled, "Oh, so now all of this is my fault? Great, now you're blaming me."

"But isn't that true, Rachel?"

I paused for a moment, unable to retort as I felt staggered by his words. I never thought my actions would be viewed so skeptically by him.

However, he might have a valid point. I should have focused on investigating Emma and not been too distracted by other possibly irrelevant things.

But in reality, the things he deemed irrelevant were the most relevant aspects I had experienced in my life.

"I have a life too, you know?" I responded with a trembling voice. "Yes, I'm thrown into this time, and yes, I'm the reason Emma disappeared. But, all this time I've been hurt, and he's the only one who can heal me."

Immediately, Jeremiah showed regret, "I'm sorry."

"It's not my fault that my heart feels what it feels," I complained. "And believe me, all this time, I've been trying to erase my feelings for him. But I always fail."

"Again, I'm sorry. I didn't know your feelings."

Without offering any further response, I spurred my horse and turned toward Aunt Bertha's front yard.

Upon arriving at the door, we dismounted our horses. I paused for a moment to take a deep breath, trying to calm the tremble in my voice.

Then, with a still shaky resolve, I gently knocked on the door. Before I could continue my words, Aunt immediately cut in with a hug. "Bibi misses you," she said.