Anna was quiet on the walk to the café. Her eyes darted back and forth as she took in the sights around her, all the time fiddling with her ring, spinning the silver and black circle round and round. She continued to draw in deep breaths and chew on her lower lip, occasionally muttering ‘not possible’ under her breath, as if fighting an internal battle. Her natural color seemed to have paled, the light dusting of freckles more prominent.

Once they’d settled in their seats at the café and ordered dried apple pie and coffee, Wes rested his forearms on the table. “Tell me a little bit about this ‘Tulsa.’”

Anna cleared her throat. “It’s in Oklahoma.” She flinched when he shrugged, still not sure what she was talking about.

“Oklahoma. You know, the state south of Kansas?”

He narrowed his eyes. “The only thing south of us is Indian Territory, then Texas.”

“No,” she whispered, her eyes round as saucers.

Wes nodded at the waitress as she placed cups of coffee and two cuts of pie in front of them. She glanced at Anna, who stared straight ahead, taking in shallow breaths.

Once the waitress left, Anna nodded, as if she’d made a decision. “Wes, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

She looked him in the eye, seeming to draw strength from within herself. “What year is this?”

His forkful of pie stopped halfway to his mouth. “What?”

Anna licked her lips and cleared her throat. “Just tell me, please. What year is this?”

He frowned and lowered the fork. “It’s eighteen hundred and seventy. Why?”

Then he leapt forward as Anna’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and her slack body slid to the floor.