Abra squeezed him gently, the slowly broke off the hug. She looked up at him, confusion flickering across her face for a moment, then realizing that was simply the way the hotel worked.
"You must be from a different point in time than me. This hotel does that, brings people here from all different times and places." Really different. He must be able to see it in her. She was older now, fifteen, and like to think she was more mature.
"Rose is dead. We got her back when he killed her. Made her suffer for all of it." There was pride in her voice and a wide grin on her face. The joy from that memory was always greater than the little voice warning her about the risk of having had enjoyed it too much.