84. The One Left Behind.

Abe insisted they take a car. It would be cheaper than flying, he said. They could camp wherever they needed to stop. They could stay off the grid. Ava didn’t see the point in arguing.

They left three timepieces in Paris, but only one that was still open. The catacombs (obviously taken care of), a place near the ferris wheel (where Allie probably disappeared and therefore closed), and one just outside Paris in Versailles. Ava insisted on saving Versailles for last--she wanted to make sure they were as close to Paris as possible the moment that watch was working again.

So they left Paris by car, purchased with Charlie’s cash along with the supplies they’d need for the trip. Abe drove, Cece fell asleep in the back seat, and Ava sat passenger with a knit blue blanket across her lap. It was the first time in a long while, she realized, that she actually felt kind of peaceful. She watched the French countryside roll by under a sky thick with clouds and propped her feet up on the dash. Might as well get comfortable -- it would be a full eight hours before they reached the Italian border.

83. The View From The Ferris Wheel

 Abe rubbed his forehead. He didn’t know what to make of this--they couldn’t argue with the fact that the papers were here, translated neatly. Someone had to have done it. His father insisted it was Ava.

"That’s what Marie said as well,” said Cece. “Remember?”

Ava did remember. The nurse thought Ava had left the bottles in Allie’s room to be rude. “So a future version of me is helping us?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

"It's a good sign, isn't it?” said Abe. “It means this--” he gestured to the papers on the bed, “--all this is working. That it works eventually. We fix it, and you use it to help us. To help yourself.”

Ava looked out the window. They didn't have much of a view, but the city was sparkling--somewhere out there the Eiffel Tower had lit up for the night. She couldn't help but remember with a twinge of pain the time she'd seen it glitter with Allie; they'd watched from the top of that enormous Ferris wheel. That was the night Allie disappeared.

“Well, it is good, I suppose,” she finally replied. “As long as Charlie’s telling the truth.”

"Marie doesn't know your Charlie,” Cece pointed out. “She would not have lied.”

Ava nodded. “In any case...we better get started.” She sighed and stared at the pile of addresses on the bed. “So...which one’s the closest?”

82. Means of Arrival.

The bottles were tucked against the far wall of the hotel room, finally empty. The three of them had spent the better part of an hour wiggling all the papers out and laying them neatly across the bed in pairs. Each one was an address: one in that strange language, and a corresponding one in English.

Ava, for her part, was fuming. Someone was directing them along, pulling their strings like puppets, and she hated the feeling. Although, she admitted to herself begrudgingly, the puppeteer was proving helpful. But why all the tricks? Why not show themselves, if they wanted to help so badly?

“No, father, we haven’t been back!” Abe was practically yelling into his cell phone as he spoke to Charlie. “Ava hasn’t either! Of course she hasn’t. We’ve been together the whole--then why did you bother putting them back in the bloody bottles!?” He rolled his eyes. “She didn’t--” He stopped abruptly. “Perhaps.” He glanced at Ava suspiciously as he hung up.

"He thinks we’ve been back?” Ava always thought the old man seemed senile.

“Just you,” Abe replied. “He swears you had him translate these. And he suggests...that you may have arrived by time travel.”

81. That Easy.

"I know a hotel that’s out of the way,” said Cece, leading the way down the empty street. Ava could hear the sounds of the city’s nightlife in the distance, but this block was, for the moment, clear of any traffic.

“What makes you think you’re coming with us?” Ava retorted. “I can’t help you until we fix the watch, remember? That’s going to be a while.”

Cece scoffed. "You think I’m just going to leave you with a phone number and blindly trust you’ll come back? No, mademoiselle, I will be joining you. I will make sure you fix the watch. And I will make sure you keep your word once it is fixed.” Abe and Ava exchanged a glance. They could just quietly drop into side street, try to lose her-- “And if you do not want my help,” Cece added, as though reading their thoughts, “I would be happy to find someone who does. Someone who might pay.” She held up the golden watch coyly and dangled it delicately.

Ava felt such fury she could have clawed that stupid smile right off that horrible pickpocket’s face. “Give that back,” she growled.

Cece handed it over with a shrug. “That’s how easy it is for me,” she purred. “Remember that.” 

80. White Light.

By the time Ava and Cece returned, night had truly fallen. Abe sat on the sidewalk by the entrance, bathed in the white light of a lamp which buzzed against the striped awning. He stood abruptly when he saw it was them.

“How’d it go? What happened?”

"It’s her,” Ava replied. Her face was pale and emotionless above the colored bottles in her arms. After almost an hour, all Allie had been able to say was Ava’s name, over and over again. Then she had fallen asleep.

Abe’s mouth fell open. He tried to say something, but stopped himself. “Come on,” he finally croaked, taking some of the bottles. “We’d better find somewhere to stay.”

"We have to go back tomorrow,” Ava said numbly. “Take these back to the little house. Into the attic, to find the papers.” Abe nodded, but then stopped in his tracks.

"Ava,” he said, holding up a green bottle, “There’s already papers in these.”

Ava froze--she hadn’t even thought to actually examine them. She’d just assumed that, since they were empty before, they’d be empty still. But Abe was right: each of the bottles were holding not one, but two pieces of parchment.