42 - An epilogue

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La Rose rest area, late at night

With a nostalgic smile, Dan pulls her car to the right and down the exit lane. It's been years since she visited this rest area. Will it still look the way it does in her fading memories? She stops in the parking lot, approximately at the same spot she parked her car so many years ago. "Here we are, Buddy. Do you remember the place we first met?"

The dog stares out the passenger side window, tongue lolling. Dan scratches her companion behind the ears and takes in the atmosphere with half-closed eyes, trying to overlap her memory with the actual situation.

The pictures don't fit. For one, there's no rain. Instead, an almost full moon shines through the bare crowns of the big trees lining the highway. Two concrete buildings set in the centre of the lot are new, too. One houses a restaurant, the other is probably a sanitary block. Behind them, an expansive area for trucks stretches away into the darkness. She is surprised by the activity, the truck drivers smoking and chatting between their road monsters.

On the lot for mundane passenger cars, Dan is almost alone. A black van is parked a few rows down, but she can't see the driver around. Perhaps he takes a nap—like Dan remembers claiming back then. Though this winter night promises to get cold, and she can't imagine sleeping in the car voluntarily.

Suddenly, Dan realises why the whole area looks so strange. It's not the different season and weather. The lighting was replaced, and the lamps no longer emit a yellowish glow but illuminate everything in a stark white glare. This isn't the place she hoped to visit in a bout of nostalgia.

For a moment, she is tempted to start her car, turn up the heating, and drive away. But before she can give in, her gaze finds the chipped shard of a coffee mug dangling from her car keys. It's black and adorned with part of a bright, yellow logo. A smile steals onto her lips. The unusual key fob always does the trick. She's been carrying this memento around for years, as a memory aid and anchor to her personal reality.

"We've seen so many time shifts, it's a wonder we still remember where we belong to, don't you think?" As always, the dog's inscrutable gaze makes her smile. "A penny for your thoughts, my friend. Well, we've always found our way back. And sometimes I think that all is well as long as we stick together."

She brushes her fingertips over the key fob, her smile now turning sad. With Chronos gaining momentum and her autobiography published, she reached two important milestones of her career. From here on, few facts are known about the future life and deeds of Dr Danielle Lent, inventor of the time machine. Just that she'll retreat shortly after the book launch from public life, at the height of her success.

"I wish I knew why I'll decide to disappear. But so far, not much in my life turned out as planned. So, the best thing will be to play it by gut from here on." She leans back, and the dog rests her head on her knee. "To be honest, it is a relief to know everything I learned about the course of my life in that first night with Ric is over and done now. Our future is an unwritten story again, a clean slate."

The flickering of the parking lot lighting interrupts her thoughts. Dan grins. This is the one unexplained fact about time shifts. At least the unwanted side effect announces visitors.

Ric opens the passenger door and drops into the seat, lifting Buddy into his lap. Salt-and-pepper stubbles cover his chin, and the sleeves of his dark shirt are rolled up. Where he comes from, the climate is less harsh, obviously. "Hey, Girls, good to see you. How was the infamous book launch?"

"A success, I think. The peak of my career if that trendy press woman can be believed. Or the end of something..." She trails off, a sudden sadness overwhelming her.

"Don't know. I'd rather see it as the start of the rest of your life." He runs his fingers through the dog's pelt, and Buddy licks his chin.

Dan's grin is back. Yes, that's her Ric, an incorrigible optimist. His glass is always half full. "If you insist. And what do you suggest I do with the rest of my now-famous life?"

"Hm, I'm sure we'll figure out something. Can't let you get bored, can we? What about a private celebration and a well-earned holiday?"

On his open hand sits the small grey box, time coordinates already set. All Dan has to do is push the purple button.

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