Evelyn's heart pounded in her chest as she took in her surroundings. The street was lined with gas lamps, their flickering glow casting long shadows on the damp cobblestones. Horse-drawn carriages rattled past, and elegantly dressed men and women walked by, oblivious to the woman who had just materialized in their midst.
She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering slightly in her modern jeans and sweater. People gave her strange looks but quickly turned away, as if she were merely another eccentricity of the city.
"This isn't possible," she murmured to herself.
A sharp whistle cut through the air. Evelyn turned to see a tall man dressed in a tailored suit, his sharp blue eyes locked onto her. He was the very image of the man in the locket—Theo.
"You there! Are you lost?" His voice was deep, smooth, yet laced with authority.
Evelyn swallowed hard, her mind racing. This had to be a dream. Or some elaborate prank. But as she met his gaze, something in her heart told her otherwise.
She had truly fallen into another time.
And Theo Whitmore, the man whose name was etched in the locket, was staring right at her.