Book Three: Chapter 74

“That man who came for me killed me, that’s what happened.” Dana held up her ruined arm. “I’m dead, and he wants me to go to the house where you came from and steal something or con the owner into letting me in.”

Several seconds passed, and the typewriter started moving again.

You should go there. You can get help.

“Oh really? Who’s gonna help me? You? The guy who lives there?”

Someone will help, it told her. This man will not help you.

“What do you know, you’re just a magic clock. Speaking of which, what are you exactly? Why did you come here?”

I needed fixing, the clock told her.

“Why did I have to fix you?” Dana stood up and walked over to her dresser. She opened up her drawers and began pulling out clothes. “I bet Mike could have hired someone. Dude seems like he has plenty of money.”

It had to be you. The typewriter paused for several seconds, then spooled the paper up to make room for more text, dinging as it reset itself. You ha