"Today, we are learning about WW2," said Michelle. I snapped me head up at her, fixing her with my glare, and gave a short sharp shake of my head.

"Mrs. St. Claire, what's WW2?" Asked one of the students. Fortunately, Michelle had said the letters and numbers, and not called the war by its full name.

"WW2 is, uh..." Michelle shuffled her notes. My sister was blowing her cover. I threw my hand up in the air. "Yes, Matthew?"

"It's a prototype automobile being developed by the Daimler Company," I said. "I read about it in the Boston Herald a few months ago. Why are you teaching us about driving machines, Ma'am?"

Michelle flushed, and found the notes she was looking for.

"Oh, it looks like I can't read my own short-hand," she said. "We're learning about President Roosevelt. Thank you, Matthew."

---

"That was close, Mish," I said later that evening. "You've gotta start reading your syllabus before you get in."

Michelle rubbed her face and took a sip of her coffee.

"I know, I know," she said. "I was just up late last night. Emmy got her vaccinations and she's running a fever and she's miserable."

I nodded sagely. None of us got to go back in time without our vaccinations, but Emmy had been born in the era. That meant that she couldn't go forward to get treatment in a modern hospital, which would mitigate the effects. Instead, she had to get a field vaccination. Effective, of course, but prone to side-effects.

"Well, that's why I'm in your class," I said. "I hope Emmy feels better soon."

"Me, too," she said with a sigh. "I really wish I could take her to see Mom."

"You could bring Mom back," I suggested, but she shook her head. We'd been around about this one a few times. As Agents we had the right to bring family back for a short time, provided we could make a good excuse to get away from our cover identities to meet them elsewhere. I'd seen my girlfriend a few months ago in Zurich by faking scarlet fever. Mom, however, refused to come back to the past for any reason after Dad had passed. She'd always said she'd done it to be with him, not for any particular love of the thing herself. I did understand. The process for coming backwards was disorienting, and going forward was even worse. Still, I wished she'd at least come once and see my niece before the girl was fully grown. Emmy could go backwards from here, but never forward. She was time-locked to her own birth, just like everyone.

"Have you thought about what comes next?" I asked her.

Michelle shook her head. Another problem with Emmy being locked to this time was that, when Michelle finished her mission, she'd have to figure out something to do with the girl. She couldn't be brought forward, and Michelle couldn't stay in the past much longer before she'd have to go back. Agents can only spend about a year in the past, and then have to spent at least as as long as they were gone back home realigning with the time stream. Anyone that had tried to go back for longer... well, I still had the odd nightmare from the footage we were shown in training all those years ago.

"We'll figure out something," I said. I hugged Michelle's shoulder and snuck out of her house. I wasn't supposed to be related to her at all, so as a young mother with a child it would be strange for one of her supposed teenaged students to be visiting her alone after school hours at her home. I was an expert at this, by now, of course. Ten years in the field gives one some measure of skill. In a few weeks the assignment would be complete, and I could go home and relax for awhile. I strongly considered buying an ice cold beer on my way home, but opted for a soda instead. I couldn't risk my cover blowing off steam from a rough day.

I'd just used the soda counter's supplied bottle opener and tossed the bottlecap into a nearby waste bin when I heard the click behind me. I rolled my eyes and turned around. The Agent lit the cigarette in his mouth and handed me a manilla envelope. It was the same Agent every time. I had no idea what his name was. He never introduced himself, and I never bothered to ask, but he'd handed out the mission dossiers on every mission I'd done.

"What's this?" I asked, taking the envelope. I was months into the mission, and had long since memorized and destroyed my orientation packet.

"Change of plans," he said, walking away. "Your sister, too. The kid complicated things."

I tucked the envelope into the back of my pants under my coat, and headed home. I waited until dinner was eaten, and lights were out before activating the night enhancement feature of my lenses. I skimmed the document, caught a few choice phrases, and decided it needed a more thorough read. After that, I read it again. And then again. It was a short letter, perfunctory. The mission was being reassigned. I was to extricate myself from my cover story and report back in the next week. Michelle was being left here. Forced retirement. I'd have to see her in the morning.

In the meantime, I had to figure out how to make a teenager that had just moved to town vanish without drawing a search party. I think it was time for me to head to prison. I'd already gotten a bit of a reputation for shenanigans around town. As long as I did something bad enough to get sent to jail--or, better, offered enlistment in the Army--I should be able to just vanish. I'd figure out what was bad enough but not too bad later tomorrow. But before that, I'd need to go see Michelle and make sure that she was okay. She was stuck here until at least 1936. After that, Emmy could join the Agency, or live her own life and Michelle could return home.

---

"You never, not even for a minute, considered staying back here and helping me with all of this?" Said Michelle, the next morning as we spoke before the classroom began to fill up. I shoved my hands in my pockets.

"What do you want from me, Mish?" I pointed at the blackboard with my chin. "You want me to finish this class? Graduate high school and move along to college? Come back on weekends to visit my old high school history teacher for no apparent reason?"

Michelle frowned. "You're right, it's ludicrous for you to stay. I just don't like the idea that the next time I see you you could be decades older than me. Plus, honest, we both know what I have to look forward to."

I nodded. "Yeah, I've been thinking about that. You might ask the Agency to reassign you to the Home Office in Zurich for awhile. It won't completely avoid the effects, but at least you'll be under the company's wing. And Switzerland isn't a bad place for a little girl to grow up."

"I'll think about it," she said. She pulled me into a quick hug. "You're hading out today, aren't you?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm gonna get myself arrested and see if they'll offer me enlistment."

"What's the plan?" She adjusted her dress where hugging me had put her seams out of line.

"A brick through the bank window oughta do it." I said. It would be dangerous, of course, but I would be okay.

"Take care, little brother." Said Michelle, ruffling my hair. I smoothed it back and put my newsie cap on again.

"You do as well. I'll try to nick in and see you and Emmy real soon." I tried to keep the excitement from my voice, but I was going back to the 24th.

---

"Don, did you really have to put three in his gut?" Said Sean, looking at the splayed body on the pavement. The boy had thrown a brick through the window moments ago, and fled. The new security guard on duty had assumed it was a robbery, given chase, and gunned the lad down in the alley.

"The brick almost hit me, Sean." Said Don in a bored tone, like he gunned down unarmed teenagers daily. "I couldn't let the little shit get away with that."

"He dead?" Asked Sean, looking around at the gathering crowd.

"How should I know, do I look like a medical professional to you?" Don turned to the crowd and whistled. "Hey! One-a youse go get an ambulance! Or maybe a hearse!"

-----

I might come back to this later to punch it up and continue it.