Archive of Our Own

On the day Esra was assigned to write an article on the infamous Pera Palace Hotel, she got a bad feeling deep in her chest.

She chose to ignore it, of course. It was unprofessional. If anything, it probably meant that there was something to uncover with this story. Even if it seemed like a bit of a fluff piece. "You know that hotel where they were shooting that Christmas movie in the 40s?" her boss had asked her. "The one where one person died during filming and one of the actors went missing so they canceled the whole thing? Plenty of stories there, go find me one."

Really, it was on her for working for a crime-oriented publication. Journalism was a fickle industry though, so Esra would take what she was given. A murder-themed Christmas, how quaint.

The strap of her bag was beginning to dig into her shoulder and she realized she had been standing on the sidewalk opposite the hotel staring for several minutes now. One of these days she would buy one of those nice suitcases that rolled in any direction. For now, her old gym bag would have to do. With a final deep breath, she adjusted the strap on her shoulder and crossed the street.

As soon as she stepped into the hotel's lobby, Esra stopped in her tracks. Try as she might she couldn't remember the last time she'd been anywhere this nice. If ever, she thought. But no gloomy thoughts could stick in her brain while she admired the beautiful light fixtures that hung elegantly from the ceiling and the Christmas decorations that covered every possible surface.

Onwards and upwards, then.

"Finding everything okay?" The voice startled Esra out of her thoughts. She had been staring again, this time at a peculiar artifact. An hourglass, of all things, ornate and heavy-looking. The warm light of the sitting room brought sparkles out of the fine, white sand.

"Miss?" The hotel's manager, Ahmet was it?, was looking at her with vague concern. The tour had finished, Esra realized, and she was still staring.

She shot him a sheepish smile. "Just finding ideas for my story." Esra gestured toward the hourglass. "This is a beautiful piece."

"An antique." The manager easily shifted back into tour guide mode. "From the time the hotel was built. It was donated to our collection by the architect of the hotel himself."

"It's beautiful. Could I just look at it a while longer?"

"Go ahead. I have to lock up lock up soon, but I suppose you're a special guest. Don't break it though!" Then, under his breath. "Again."

Again. She was sure a story could be found there if all else failed. Esra flashed a winning smile at the man. "I could never."

She heard the door close behind her as she continued examining the old hourglass. And when, some five minutes later, she accidentally knocked it over, Esra was reminded that the universe had a sense of humor.

Something in the air felt different but she couldn't, for the life of her, figure out what.

Time to close out the day in her room then, maybe begin an outline for the article. After all, she had no other reason for being here and this certainly wasn't a vacation, no matter how much she would've wished it was. No matter how much Esra felt she deserved one, which she did.

But when she shut the heavy wooden doors behind her, she froze in her tracks.

The lamps were different, as were the rugs. She suddenly suspected the paint on the walls was different as well, but maybe it was just the light playing tricks on her eyes because the light is different and why is the light different and why did this damn hotel look like a movie set? Surely, she was dreaming. Or she had finally snapped. Who knew? Maybe her boss never actually sent her on this assignment and Esra was actually lying passed out on her couch after a long day of work.

It's the stress. The stress is getting to me.

Still, even as she thought it, she stepped away from the doors and deeper into the hotel's common area. Workers wearing old clothing styles stood on tall ladders adjusting lamps. Esra felt their heat as she passed through their beams, moving as a sleepwalker might and still not fully convinced she hadn't hit her head somewhere along the way.

She stumbled toward the closest window and leaned closely towards the glass, cupping her hands around her eyes as she tried to take a look out into the street. It had begun to snow. Outside were bright lights and people moving endlessly from one place to another.

Like a set, her mind whispered. But it was a silly thought, wasn't it? Esra opened and closed her eyes. In the distance, an old car rumbled down the street. Only, it looked brand new. Now sure she was having some sort of breakdown because, if nothing else, the filming crew of some movie had managed to set up an entire production in the ten minutes she had spent inside that library.

The library, of course!

Esra needed to get back to the library. As she turned away from the window, she found herself colliding with something she was sure hadn't been there moments prior. All possible grace leaving her, Esra stepped back and immediately felt the back of her head collide against the windowpane. A tall man in an elegant suit stood to her side, also cupping his hands and looking out the window.

"Wha—what are you doing there? I almost fell." She couldn't help the accusatory tone in her voice, but it felt as useless as getting angry with a crack in a sidewalk.

"Well you seemed to be looking for something. Thought I could help." He turned toward her. "Have you lost something?"

In that moment, Esra realized two things and both were quite alarming. The first was that the man was almost stupidly handsome. The second was that he, too, looked like he had stepped directly out of 1942.

Library! Her brain screamed. Library now! And so Esra listened, running off without further thought. She dodged and slid to avoid crashing into people, only dimly of a voice somewhere behind her calling "Miss!".

Esra quickly turned a corner and saw the library doors before her.

"Wait, miss!"

She dove inside the library and immediately turned the lock. Esra leaned against the door for a moment, breathing heavily. It was her own fault for not working out, but in her defense, it was the first time she'd had to run while being on assignment. God, was she still on assignment?

Esra walked towards the hourglass. As the seconds slid away with the last grains of sand, she felt the air around her change once more.

She was back, she could feel it in her bones.

What the hell had just happened?

The next morning, Esra stood in front of the hourglass once more.

Had it been random? Upon returning to her room the previous night she had fallen heavily onto her bed and stared at the ceiling until her eyes had drifted shut. She was sure there had to be a trick to it. Her hand stretched out towards the hourglass. Maybe if I flip it?

Esra stopped herself. What would be the point of this? Was she sure she hadn't hallucinated the whole thing? And if she hadn't hallucinated it, was she sure she even wanted to travel in time? An insane thing to try, by most measures.

Still, something almost compelled her to try again. Insatiable curiosity, a desperate need to get to the bottom of things. Maybe you're not such a bad journalist after all, Esra. She took the hourglass in hand. It was heavier than it looked, but there was something to be said for the craftsmanship of antiques. Everything felt so cheap and immaterial these days. Esra flipped the hourglass and set it back down on the table. For a moment, everything felt the same.

But then—

"Rolling now! Quiet on set!" The voice came from far outside the library.

A breathless laugh escaped Esra. She had actually done it.

Time travel. What better way to get an inside scoop on a story occurred more than eighty years ago, than to actually be there? What a shame, then, that nobody would know what a good reporter she truly was. As soon as she returned home and turned in her story, she would ask for a raise. A Christmas bonus, at the very least.

Esra glanced at the hourglass. If her theory was right, she had about an hour to find out as much as she could and get home. No time to lose, then.

She headed towards the doors.

Emerging out into the hall, a thought struck her. Did she stick out like a sore thumb? Was it worth finding some clothes and changing into them? Just as quickly, Esra dismissed the thought. She wouldn't be here long enough for it to matter. The matter decided, she continued down the hallway. She was unsure of what exactly she was looking for, but many stories started out that way. It was simply a matter of following her gut and pulling at whatever loose strings she found. On a failed production of what should have been a grand movie there was sure to be a wealth of those. But where to begin? Assistants and other set workers, they were bound to know gossip. From there, follow the trail that would inevitably form. Stay under the radar, then go back home. Simple enough.

"What is?"

Esra startled at the voice that had spoken somewhere to her left. It was him, the man she'd met the previous day. Damn it. She'd spoken her thoughts aloud. So much for flying under the radar.

"Sorry, I don't believe we know each other." Esra tried for a polite but indifferent smile. "If you'll excuse me." She began walking again. To her annoyance, however, she heard footsteps behind her.

"Is that a new costume the wardrobe department is trying, or just the latest from Paris?"

Damn it. Maybe she would need new clothes, just as soon as she could shake the man off.

"It's couture, you wouldn't understand. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do."

"Are you from the studio? They said they were sending someone."

"Yes." The word had escaped Esra's mouth before she could stop it. "Yes, I am. I recently arrived on set and have been…looking around. Trying to get a feel for things. I have to write a report on it later."

The man seemed relieved. "Good. Listen, I don't say this just to preserve my job, but you cannot stop this production. Even if it's behind schedule and over budget. Everyone here is doing their best given the circumstances."

Aha! The first loose thread had presented itself. If only she'd brought a notebook and pen with her. Her phone was in her jacket pocket but it would do no good to bring it out. "What did you say your name was, sir?"

"Halit Vantansever, miss. I'm in the film. Though I can't imagine you've heard of me. It's my first big project, I'll admit."

"That's fine." Esra leaned forward and whispered. "I can't stand it when people are full of themselves." She straightened again and wondered if this was a risky move or a genius one. "You know, I need someone to give me a quick tour of the set. I have a, um, meeting in an hour."

"It would be no trouble, miss…?"

She stretched her hand towards him. "You can call me Esra." They shook hands. "Now please, tell me more about these circumstances."

The hour was nearly over, Esra could feel it. She had enough for her article, she was sure of it. Delays, a switch in directors, investors backing out at the last minute, footage being lost, really the whole production was a mess. She could cite an anonymous source for this information, hope her boss didn't ask too many questions and be home in time for Christmas. It was a fluff piece after all, not front page stuff. It would be a tiny icon at the bottom of the website if she was lucky.

"Well, this has been lovely. Thank you for all your help. I'll be going now. My meeting, shouldn't keep them waiting."

"May I walk you there?"

"No!" She saw his startled face. "I mean. You've just done so much already. I'm sure you're needed on set. I can make it back myself."

He gave her a strange look. Was it suspicion or was she being paranoid?

"It's the polite thing to do. You've taken so much time out of your day to be here. And during the holidays, at that. Please allow me to escort you."

And perhaps because he was asking so politely, or perhaps because she had all of a sudden noticed something behind his easy demeanor, she agreed.

As they walked, she glanced at him sideways. Wasn't it awfully convenient how he seemed to be everywhere she turned? More loose threads, but perhaps this one was not worth pulling. Even if Esra had wanted to, there just wouldn't be enough time.

Wait, where were they even walking towards? Her eyes suddenly found a familiar pair of wooden doors. "Ah, we're here!"

Halit frowned. "The library?"

"Yes, I'm supposed to meet them here."

"I could stay with you while you wait."

"That won't be necessary." Esra turned away from him and walked into the library. Surely the hour was over by now, why was she still here?

"Esra?" Halit's voice came from outside the room.

She needed to leave and she needed to do it before anyone could witness her disappearing into midair. Only the hourglass was not on the table where she had left it. Damn it. Esra quickly turned around, scanning the room. Suddenly she saw something half hidden under the tablecloth that covered the table and crouched down for a better look. Lifting the end of the tablecloth, she felt a cold wave of dread wash over her.

Lying beneath the table was the hourglass, fallen on its side with a crack running down it. On one side, only a few grains of sand remained, seemingly frozen in place. On the other, nearly full. Even as she set it upright, the grains at the top remained frozen.

"Oh…shit."

If the hourglass was truly the key to her time travel, Esra was now trapped. What had seemed a fun adventure just an hour ago was suddenly a very terrifying prospect. She got to her feet, suddenly feeling quite unsteady.

But before she could think of what her next step would be, Esra was snapped out of her thoughts by a piercing scream coming from the distance, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground.

A moment later, shouts and hurried footsteps out in the hall.

"Call an ambulance!" She heard someone shout.

"She fell from the balcony!" came another.

"But is she dead?" said a third.

Esra, mind still reeeling from the discovery of the hourglass, found herself walking toward the commotion.

At the base of the stairs lay a woman. A very dead-looking woman, who looked just like her.

"Come with me." A voice was at her ear and a hand at her elbow, quickly guiding her away. Halit.

Esra glanced over her shoulders, trying to look back at the scene. "But she…" She wasn't sure where that sentence was going. Was it "she's dead" or "she looked like me"? "Wait, wait, stop. Where are we going?"

"Away from here."

Esra stopped, shaking his arms off her. "Why?"

"A woman is dead and you look just like her. Clearly, you don't belong here, people are bound to ask questions."

"For all I know, you killed her."

Halit's face hardened. "I'm only trying to help. For all I know, you killed her."

"All I know is you weren't at the library."

"Why were you at the library? There was no meeting there, I asked. The last time you disappeared, you ran into the library too. When I got there, there was no trace of you. Curious, isn't it?"

"It's..." Esra searched for an appropriate word. "Complicated."

"I see."

"Well if you think I killed that woman, why not take me to the police?"

"It's complicated," he deadpanned.

"Well, it seems we both have secrets then. Is there a props department around here somewhere?"

He seemed taken aback by the sudden turn in the conversation. "Why?"

"The hourglass in the library is broken and I need it fixed as soon as possible. Then, I'll be out of your hair."

Halit looked at her for a long moment. "You're a very strange woman, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Can you help me or not?"

He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "There's a shop across the street. I can take you there."

"Three days?!"

The shopkeeper looked apologetic. "That's the best I can do, miss."

It was not the man's fault she knew. But three days stuck in…wait, what year was it again? Too many days and too far in the past, anyway.

"No luck?"

She was back outside. Halit leaned against the wall, smoking a cigarette. He certainly cuts a figure.

"Do you usually stand in half darkness for dramatic effect?"

"Merely a coincidence, thank you for noticing."

Esra felt her eyes roll up into her head. "It'll take three days to fix."

"On Christmas Eve?" He tossed the cigarette butt onto the ground and stepped on it. "Surely he's lying to you, everything will be closed."

Christmas Eve. Was it already? She began walking down the sidewalk and felt him follow. "Doesn't matter, I have no other options. This won't make sense to you but this is the only way I can get back."

"To the studio?"

"To my home."

She glanced at Halit and saw a puzzled expression on his face. "I'm sorry, I don't follow."

Despite the bleak prospect of never going back home hanging over her, Esra found herself smiling. "It's okay, you don't need to. Thank you for everything you've done so far, but I think I should be g—"

Esra felt something fly past them a split second before the glass window they were standing beside shattered into a million pieces. What the—?

"Get down!"

Were they being shot at? Great, another unfortunate first for Esra's life. And on Christmas, at that.

She was running, they both were. Down shadowy streets and around sharp corners they went until the only footsteps they could hear were their own. "Stop, stop." She held up her hand, feeling like her lungs were about to leap out from her chest. Despite her heaving chest, Esra lifted her head and looked around. They were in a narrow alleyway. None of these streets looked familiar to her, even as a native to the city. Though, she supposed, this wasn't the city she had grown up in, not really. It wouldn't be for many decades. What a strange thought. Though perhaps not stranger than the man standing across from her, having somehow barely broken a sweat.

Strange was the right word, though. She knew nothing about him, except that he'd pulled her from possible or present danger twice now.

And yet, she still knew nothing about him.

And yet, here she was, alone in an empty part of the city with him.

Possibilities of danger flooded her head, the many lonely deaths she could die far away from everything she'd ever known. But when she looked at him again, Halit was leaning against the wall opposite her and looking up at the night sky. As Esra watched, snowflakes landed on his eyelashes, stark white against impossible dark, before melting and disappearing a moment later. Focus!

Esra cleared her throat. "So, who exactly was shooting at us?"

"Who exactly, I don't know. But Germans."

"Germans," Esra repeated, before remembering what year it was. "Wait, Nazis?!"

"Well, at least the fact that they were shooting at us confirms one of my theories."

"Which was…?"

"You're not one of them."

"Wait, you thought I was a Nazi?! That's disgusting and I take offense to it."

Halit smiled. "Good."

Despite the outrageous absurdity of the conversation, she felt cheeks warm at the sight. Focus! "So, what now?"

"Now you tell me who you really are. I know you're not really from the studio because they're aware of who I am."

"And who are you? Surely not a down-on-his-luck actor waiting on his big break?"

"No, I suppose my cover is blown here."

"Your cover?" Esra scoffed. "What are you, a spy?"

Halit said nothing.

"Oh shit, really?"

"Your turn."

"I'm from the future."

Halit chuckled. "Is that why you're dressed like that?" He nodded. "You're witty, I'll give you that. It's a good skill to have."

He didn't believe her. He simply didn't believe her. Out of all the possible outcomes she could've imagined as a result of telling someone the truth about her predicament, she hadn't accounted for this one. She should try shouting it from the rooftops just to see what happened. Maybe there was another time traveler somewhere in the city who could help her get back. It was a pretty big city after all.

"So what are you doing on a movie set, Mr. Big Shot Spy?"

"Tracing back the funds to the source. The investors are all Nazis. But they're not the upfront investors, just represent them. The real investors are behind them. It's all being kept hushed."

"Is being an actor really the best way to do that, though? Aren't you busy you know…filming?"

He shook his head. "People talk. Camaraderie in the arts and all that."

"Right."

"Do you know her? The woman who died?"

Esra shook her head. It was the truth. She only hoped he could see it.

Halit nodded, seeming to accept her silent response. The snow had started falling more heavily and she shivered, her winter coat having been forgotten somewhere in the present, leaving her with only a blazer unsuitable for the weather. Although, to the people here, this was the present. She hated that it was all becoming so scrambled so quickly in her head.

"Come on." The words pulled Esra away from her thoughts. "Let's go somewhere warmer. The night is cold and you look like you need a drink."

True to Halit's promise, the bar was warm. A smell of spices and smoke hung in the air, but not so strongly as for it to be unpleasant. Esra rubbed her arms to help along their defrosting process but a drink and then another placed in front of her did a quicker job of warming her up than her hands could've. Whiskey, perhaps. Or some kind of spiced rum. She pushed her glass toward Halit for another refill. He sat across from her, watching Esra with a hint of amusement.

"Forgive me, but if you're from another time and you're stuck here, as you seemed to imply, shouldn't you be finding another way to get out of here instead of getting drunk?"

Esra leaned forward and took the decanter into her own hands, quickly refilling her glass. "Who says I can't do both?"

"A fair point. I can truly see the progress."

Esra paused, glass halfway to her mouth. "Are you mocking me?"

Halit held up placating hands. "Not at all. I'm merely trying to understand."

"Because it was your idea to come here."

"I take full responsibility. Your lips were turning blue."

Esra emptied her glass in one go, relishing the burn of the alcohol as it made its way down her throat. She lowered her arm to the table, staring at the glass still in her hand. "You could've at least given me your coat," she mumbled.

She didn't register the sound of a chair scraping back, didn't notice Halit standing until she felt something heavy and warm being draped over her shoulders. Esra looked up just in time to see Halit lower himself back into his chair, now missing his heavy black coat.

Oh.

Shirt and waistcoat now plainly in view, he seemed to be avoiding her eyes as he picked up his glass. Esra leaned forward, until she caught his eyes again. "A toast?" she asked, softly.

His green eyes were inscrutable. "What to?"

Esra couldn't help a small smile. "To the holidays, of course. And to staying alive."

And in the soft light of the bar, they clinked their glasses and laughed.

Esra woke in the early hours of the morning with a very dry throat and her head swimming. She lay in a comfortable bed, still wearing the previous day's clothes and Halit's coat over them. Wonderful, not a dream then. She really was stuck in 1942.

Cool morning light filled the room. One more day, then. One more day and she could get the hourglass back. Are you even sure you know how to get back? She shook her head, trying to dispel the thought and immediately regretted it. Esra bit back a curse. She needed food. Desperately. How had she gotten to this room?

As she slowly raised herself to a sitting position, Esra thought back.

There had been a warm bar and even warmer drinks. Then the coat, obviously. And more drinks. Why she had decided to drink with a near complete, albeit handsome, stranger? Well, Esra would never claim to be an ambassador for good ideas. But from there it got murkier, almost like flashes.

Walking back to the hotel, trying not to slip on the icy ground and laughing when she inevitably did. Marveling in the sight of the snow-covered city bathed in warm streetlight. "Watch this," as she swiped a room key from behind the front desk without being noticed and triumphantly presenting it to Halit. His concerned look before she shut the door in his face.

Esra got to her feet. It would do no good to stay up here all day. She made her way to the restaurant downstairs, still in operation despite the production, and was just wondering how she was to pay for breakfast when she spotted him, sitting by the window. Little pride to be had when one is hungry. No matter if she'd sort of made a fool of herself the previous night.

Esra sank into the chair opposite him. "Buy me breakfast?" She was trying for a lighthearted tone, but was sure it probably didn't come off that way.

Halit took a sip from his coffee. "Or 'good morning', as people used to say."

"Please? I sort of don't have any money." She shrugged. "Didn't really get to pack a bag before tumbling through time."

"Breakfast is on its way." He set the cup down. "You should eat well. I need you to do something for me today."

He paused as a waiter approached the table and placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of Esra, then an assortment of breads, cheeses and fruit on the table. They waited until the waiter walked away. Esra breathed the scent of coffee in deeply. Already, she felt better. "What is it?" She took a sip from her cup.

"I need you to meet with one of the investors."

Esra did her best not to choke on the coffee. She leaned forward. "The Nazis?!" she hissed. "Are you kidding me?"

Halit, as she soon found out, had not been kidding.

Several hours later Esra found herself sitting at a nearby cafe, dressed in whatever passed for business casual in the 1940s. She was trying very hard not to fidget. A headache still sat at the back of her head, subtle if persistent. Truthfully, it was hard to tell if it was a result of the hangover or her present activities, though likely it was a combination of both.

Esra had flashed her supposed role as studio representative to get someone at the front desk to get a message to the man she was supposed to be meeting now. As the minutes went by, she tried hard to remember that she wasn't alone in this insane endeavor and that Halit was standing by in the adjoining room. She glanced at the clock on the wall above the kitchen door.

He was ten minutes late.

When ten minutes became fifteen, Esra ordered another coffee, wondering whether that would make her headache better or worse. She sipped as fifteen minutes became twenty, then twenty-five. Just as she glanced at the clock again and saw that thirty minutes had gone by, she saw Halit's head emerge from behind the kitchen door. He nodded toward the exit.

Outside, the air was a crisp chill. This time, however, Esra was well prepared for the cold. She rounded the corner and went into the back alleyway they had agreed to meet in prior. Halit was already there, frowning.

"So," Esra began. "What do you think happened?"

"They may be already onto us."

"Is that why they were shooting at us last night?"

"The shop…" Something seemed to click in his brain, the sudden energy of a new idea flooding his face. "Of course, how could I not see it sooner? We left the hourglass there last night. We were attacked right afterwards."

"You think they want to travel through time?"

Halit hesitated. "It's a valuable antique, regardless."

"You don't believe me?"

"We should go to the sho—"

"So you don't believe me!" Esra chuckled in disbelief. "I gave you too much credit. You still think I'm lying."

"Your motives remain a mystery to me, but it seems our goals have aligned. We both want to find the hourglass and make sure it doesn't fall into the wrong hands, no?"

Esra couldn't help but feel a bit sulky, but she nodded regardless.

"Good." He raised his eyebrows, inquiring. "Then shall we pay another visit to the shop?"

Esra rolled her eyes. "Fine, let's go."

Somehow, she hadn't been expecting this. A door forced open, the shop ransacked. Really, it had been silly of her to assume they would get there first. Maybe it hadn't been an assumption, but hope. Her way home, with the promise of three days' wait.

What now?

Halit swore under his breath. "Let's search the store, make sure it's not here before we leave."

But search as they did, the hourglass was nowhere to be found and neither was the shopkeeper. They left the store, careful not to be seen.

Outside the sun was sinking in the sky and Esra drew her coat closer around herself. "We need a new plan."

But neither said anything further. They walked in companionable, if slightly defeated silence for several blocks until they happened upon a small square. It seemed like the kind of place where a market might pop up on a Sunday, and Esra wondered whether she might soon find herself shopping at such a place. She spotted a bench and plopped down on it, shoving her hands into her coat pockets in order to keep them warm. A moment later, Halit sat beside her.

"How's that new plan coming along?"

Halit stared straight ahead. "I'm working on it."

"Well, could you maybe work on it a bit faster?"

"These things take time," he replied evenly.

Esra was suddenly reminded of the previous day. "By the way, did you ever find out anything about the woman who died? I don't remember seeing anything last night and everyone seemed to be acting normally this morning. Shouldn't a woman dying…" Esra gestured vaguely with her hand. "Cause more commotion?"

"Not if they're trying to keep it quiet."

"But how could they? Everyone saw her fall."

"Or maybe everyone saw her jump. Depends on what they decide is most convenient."

"Did you know her?"

"No, but she was the hotel owner's niece. I suppose she was keeping an eye on the production on behalf of her uncle, who's doing business abroad."

"But what else did she do? I assume they don't want her dead just for being a hotel owner's niece."

For a moment, Esra could've sworn she saw a smile creeping onto Halit's face, but she blinked and it was gone.

"She had ties to the old revolutionary movement."

"Why would that be important now?"

He shrugged. "Maybe these Germans aren't fond of Mustafa Kemal's policies."

"Funny," Esra deadpanned.

"What interests me more than Peride's political inclinations, however, is your relation to her."

"I already told you, I don't know her. Never seen her in my entire life."

"And yet you show up the exact evening of her death, bearing an uncanny resemblance to her. An estranged sister, perhaps?"

Esra hummed absentmindedly. "A grandmother, more like. Though I wouldn't know. Don't really have a family."

"You're an orphan?"

"Maybe. Or maybe my parents simply abandoned me. Don't know, never knew them."

They were quiet for a few minutes after that, until Halit broke the silence.

"I had a brother, older."

Had. The use of the word felt intentional. "Did he die?"

"I don't think I would know if he was. We haven't been close in a very long time." He turned to Esra. "You're sure you don't know Peride?"

"Why would I lie to you?"

He simply looked at her.

Esra sighed. "Point taken. But I really don't know her."

"An awful coincidence, then. How interesting."

It was starting to snow again, and Esra looked up at the night sky, once again transfixed by the falling snowflakes. She wondered how a place so familiar to her could at once feel so alien. Quieter streets, badly lit corners and a sky much less polluted by light than she was used to in her time.

The plan was suddenly clear in her mind. "The party," she blurted. "The party, there's a Christmas party at the hotel tomorrow night, yes?"

"How did you know?"

Esra remembered a detail from the tour she'd taken in the present, just before traveling. There had been a party, as there usually was at the hotel, but the cancellation of the production had been announced that night.

"Doesn't matter, because I'm right, aren't I?" She couldn't help but smile. "I would bet they'll be at the party tomorrow. Using it as a cover to fence the thing, or trying to travel, whichever one. But I bet they'll be there."

Esra desperately hoped she was right, or else she would have to start looking for apartments before the new year.

At some point past nine in the morning on the following day, Esra found herself in the costume deposit looking for a dress to steal.

She wasn't exactly proud of the matter, and she truly hoped nobody would notice. If they did, well this whole production was being tanked, anyway. Nobody would need these anymore. Esra held out one particular dress made in a red velvet, several sizes too small for her. What an absolute waste. She put the dress back and kept examining the rack's contents one by one. Suits, day wear, even a pair of pajamas. What if she didn't find anything at all? But as soon as the thought had crossed her mind, she shoved a hanger to the side and her eyes fell on what was quite possibly one of the most beautiful dresses she had ever laid eyes on.

It was off-white, with a full skirt that fell in layers like flower petals, the edges of which were adorned with blue sequins in varying shades. Well, go big or go home. If all went well and they could get the hourglass back and it was fixed, there was a chance she could return to the present tonight. Might as well look stunning in the process. If anyone remembered her, she meant to disappear.

Provided, of course, that she did get to disappear. Otherwise…

Best not to think about it.

The morning bled into the afternoon and then into evening. Without really knowing what she was doing, Esra sat in front of the mirror in her room and arranged her hair into what she hoped was an elegant style. She then slipped into the dress, struggling for a few minutes with the zipper before finally closing it. How much easier would it have been for someone to help her?

For a moment she imagined a warm, steadying hand at the base of her back and another at the zipper, knuckles tracing a slow line up her back. Halit's hands. His warm coat around her shoulders once more and a steadying hand at her elbow to keep her from slipping on the frost.

For a moment Esra imagined not being utterly alone at Christmas.

But here she was, in a stolen room, wearing a stolen dress and living on what felt like stolen time. She should put things to right and get out of here before she got too caught up in wanting things she couldn't have. A room with a computer and as much wine as she could stomach awaited her when she got back, and she tried to not feel a little bit sick at the thought. The familiarity would put her to rights, and not being shot at would be an objectively good thing for her. Esra could have WiFi, and hot showers at her leisure. Ride-shares and food delivered straight to her. Yes, it would be good to be back.

Time to party, then.

Once downstairs, Esra tried to stick to the shadows. No use in attracting unwanted attention when she was here to observe. Wrong dress for that, then. It probably was, and she started second-guessing her choice until she heard a voice at her ear.

"You look magnificent." Halit.

She quickly turned and saw him, dressed somehow even more formally than he usually did. His suit, as always, was impeccably tailored and only the green and black brocade of his waistcoat denoted festiveness.

You too, she wanted to say. "They're announcing the end of the production tonight," was what she blurted instead.

He frowned, and Esra almost regretted bringing his mind back to business. She wondered what he might look like without worry constantly marring his handsome face.

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

"We should stay vigilant, then. I have a strong feeling something's going to happen tonight."

"Should we eat in the meantime?"

"Well, I was more so hoping for a dance." He held out a hand towards Esra.

Esra tried to ignore her accelerating heartbeat. She felt shaky, all of a sudden, and hoped it wouldn't show on her face. With a smile, she took his hand. "I would love to, though I have to warn you I'm not much of a dancer."

"There's not much trick to it," he said, leading her to the dance floor. "Simply lose yourself in the music and have a partner who knows what he's doing, of course."

Then his hand was at her back and hers was on his shoulder and Halit drew her closer still as a band played from some corner of the room. As they swayed, Esra's eyes fell on their joined hands. She risked a glimpse toward his face, for the first time truly noticing how tall he was. His gaze was softer than she had yet seen it be.

"Merry Christmas," he said softly, only for her ears.

Instead of replying, Esra stood on her toes and kissed him.

Quickly enough, he was kissing her back, their dance completely forgotten. Her hands held onto his lapel for dear life, but soon his hands were on her back, steadying her. She had been carrying a chill inside for days now, she realized, and Halit felt impossibly warm against her.

She wanted…

She wanted.

She couldn't.

Esra wrenched herself back, breaking the kiss. Halit looked startled, and more than a little wrecked.

"I'm sorry," she said, then turned and ran.

Dodging both waitstaff and guests, Esra made her way to the lobby, at the bottom of the stairs. She was an idiot. Surely it was a miracle that the timeline wasn't somehow imploding on itself. There was no point, she was only setting herself up for heartbreak. Or maybe both of them, which was even worse. It was selfish of her, she knew, but for a moment it had felt so right, like cliches about missing pieces and orange halves becoming wholes.

"Esra, wait!" She heard footsteps coming her way.

Damn it all. She had made things more complicated for both of them. Painfully and unnecessarily so. She wanted to run, but her shoes weren't up to the task. Esra sank onto the stairs and screwed her eyes shut as she braced for questions she wasn't interested in answering.

"Is everything alright?"

"Just fine."

"Then why did you run?"

"Because that was a mistake."

"I didn't think so," he countered.

"Well, it was. It can never happen again."

Halit was silent for a moment. "Are you married? Is that it?"

Esra finally opened her eyes and looked up at him in surprise. "What? No."

"Engaged or in some way involved with another?"

"No, that's not—"

"Then what's the problem?"

"It's complicated."

"Then explain it to me. Please." He seemed so earnest, it made her feel awful.

"I already tried," she said, throat feeling thick. She refused to cry. Not here, not now. "You didn't believe me."

From the direction of the ballroom she heard the sounds of the party die down, replaced by the clinking of cutlery against glass. "May, I please have your attention eveyone?"

Esra was about to suggest they rejoin the party, when her eyes caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Up on the third floor balcony, a man in a gray suit was walking with a small but bulky velvet bag under his arm.

"Halit?" Esra whispered. "I think I found our target."

He followed her look until his eyes found the man. "Come on." He held his arm out to Esra to help her stand. "Before we lose him."

They rushed to the elevator.

As they emerged onto the third floor, they looked around but the man had vanished. Somewhere down the hall, a door opened and closed. Halit turned to Esra, a finger to his lips. She nodded her understanding. They were too close to mess this up now. The door opened and closed again, the man returned the way he had come. They had to get inside that room.

She followed Halit and they quietly made their way toward the room. He tried the doorknob; it was unlocked. They slipped inside. The suite was empty and the bag lay on the desk. Halit pointed at the bag, then jerked his head toward the door. Grab it and go. Esra nodded. He began searching the room.

As soon as she grabbed the bag, she checked inside. The hourglass, whole once more and with only the faintest scratches revealing that anything had happened to it at all. Could it really be that easy?

She regretted the thought as soon as it crossed her mind.

The wardrobe burst open and a man grabbed Halit from behind, pulling him into a choke hold. Esra jumped backwards, startled. She watched as Halit assumed a defensive position, protecting his neck as he tried to maneuver his attacker into slamming against a wall.

"Go!" he shouted. "I'll hold him off, get that thing out of here!"

For once in her life, Esra did as she was told. She threw the door open and ran out into the hallway, around the corner and headed for the stairs. Somewhere between the third and second floor, she risked a glance back and found Halit several paces behind her. Her heart leapt in relief, a short-lived feeling once she realized five men followed in his wake. Five?! Where did they even come from?

They reached the lobby. "The library," Esra said, struggling for breath and hoping she wouldn't have to run much more. She was sure her heels would give up on her.

That or her lungs.

Esra and Halit ran off just as their pursuers reached the last landing. Once they turned the corner, the library doors were in sight. As she ran, Esra had the strangest feeling of deja-vu, chased away only by the weight of her dress and the feeling of Halit's hand in hers. They crossed the doors into the library, and Halit slammed them shut, moving immediately to lock them and then using a chair to jam them further.

Their pursuers began pounding on the door, trying to force it open.

This was it, wasn't it? Esra had the hourglass in hand. But she had somehow thought she would have more time. Do it now! Before you lose the chance, before you ruin things more! Esra held the hourglass out in front of her in a sideways position, with no sand falling into one side or the other.

Halit looked at her, panicked. "What are you d—"

"Thank you," said Esra, tears brimming in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

She flipped the hourglass and as the last grains of sand fell, Esra felt the world go sideways.

Esra came to on her knees, arms braced against the floor. The hourglass sat in front of her, its top part empty. The tears flowed freely now. What had she done? She had returned to her time, but had it been at the cost of Halit's life?

Esra got to her feet, unsteadily. She clutched the hourglass to her chest. What now?

The library doors opened and closed. "Oh, there you are." The hotel manager's voice sounded relieved. "Nobody could locate you or the hourglass for a bit there. What a lovely dress. Vintage, is it?"

Esra turned to him. She was sure she looked a mess, but she didn't care. "The movie that was being shot here in the 40s, the one I was researching. You said one person died on set and another disappeared, right?"

"Yes, but why are—"

One died. Peride, the hotel owner's unlucky niece.

One disappeared. Could it be? Could this have always been how things were supposed to happen?

"Thank you, I'll get this back to you quickly!"

"Wait!"

But Esra was already flipping the hourglass again. A moment later, she was back in the library she had left minutes prior. Halit was at a window, trying to unsuccessfully force it open. He saw her.

"Esra? But you—"

She ran towards him, flipping the hourglass once more and hoping she had timed it right. She only needed a few seconds. The doors burst open, and a man pointed a gun at Halit, firing just as she reached him. Esra let her momentum throw them both to the ground, the world spinning again as they fell through time.

They landed with an unceremonious —oof— under modern lights. Her head was against Halit's chest.

Esra couldn't help it, she began to laugh at the sheer insanity of what had just happened. One had disappeared. Time was funny that way, she supposed.

"What happened? Where did those men go?"

Esra sat up. "We traveled through time. I told you I wasn't lying."

He followed, also sitting up."I didn't think you were lying, it was just a lot to take it. But it was obvious there was something about you. You shined impossibly bright."

"I'm sorry I left you. I thought it was what I was supposed to do. I thought there was no way around it without imploding the universe or something. And I was scared."

"And now?"

Esra smiled, placing a hand on Halit's cheek. "I found a loophole and I took a chance on something that mattered." A sudden awful thought occurred to her and she drew her hand back. "Unless you don't want to be here. I could try to send you back. After those men are gone, of course."

He caught her hand and lowered it to where their legs were still tangled with one another, helped along by Esra's skirt. "For as long as you want me, I'll be here. We don't have to be alone anymore. We can try."

Her eyes felt misty. "I would like that."

Halit smiled. "Good. Is it still Christmas here?"

Esra looked around. Decorations still covered the library. "I think so."

He leaned forward, pausing when his lips hovered just above hers. "Merry Christmas, then." He kissed her softly, slowly, and she savored the feeling.

And Esra concluded that for this and all of the Christmases that followed, it truly was.