Felicity had been home for an hour, sitting on the edge of her bed, but she was still in shock from the crazy things that Jack had told her. About lightning and vaccinations and how he had dreams of jumping to the future to find Nellie when she had gone missing. His claims were fantastical and utterly ridiculous.
And Felicity believed him completely.
She had asked questions, and dear Jack had answered every one. He’d told her that Jewel was from four hundred years in the future, but that they had met in 2015 when he was sixteen. His tale of waiting for her for ten years would have been a wonderful romantic story if she didn’t know the other side of it—that Jack had been kissing her while he pined for another woman. That he was writing her letters while his longings were for the dark-eyed Jewel rather than herself. It would be enough to send most women running in the other direction.
But Felicity wasn’t like most women.