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together.” Her words were innocent enough, but…she knew something.
    I didn’t know whether to curse under my breath or run for the hills. “Ah hmmm…well…” I got right to the point. “I actually came down here to talk to you about the painting. The one of Pompeii.” I didn’t want to waste all afternoon playing mind games.
    “Yes.”
    She beamed so brightly I was convinced she already knew exactly what I was about to tell her. Damn, is there anything she doesn’t know?
    “Okay…strange things have been happening in my apartment—since I got the painting. I finally plucked up the courage to confront it.” I leaned forward in the chair, elbows on my knees. “And I was transported to ancient Pompeii.” When she didn’t react, other than a slight twitch to her eyebrows, I added, “I basically, er, time traveled through my painting.” I let the last sentence hang between us.
    “That sounds amazing, Lexi. It’s an absolute privilege when you’re chosen to experience something most people can only read about. I hope you know that purchasing the painting was no coincidence. It was meant for you.”
    Damn, I was right. My news wasn’t the slightest surprise. More surprising though—she sounded familiar with time travel.
    “How did you know and why didn’t you tell me?” I couldn’t hide my frustration. Telling me about the painting would have saved me a week of sleepless nights.
    “You needed to discover it on your own, plus the painting needed to establish a trust level with you. These things don’t reveal themselves to everyone, you know.
    My frustration was subsiding. I had to keep it at bay if I was actually going to learn anything from Mrs. Ashton.
    “Lexi, very few people are chosen to time travel. You were destined to see Pompeii during its glory days. It was the ultimate vacation spot of its day. Only the rich and socially elite vacationed there because it was so close to the ocean. And with all the disaster that befell the city, it’s even more of an honor to be chosen.”
    “How did you know the painting was enchanted? And what did you mean that it needed to establish trust with me? Was there a chance it wouldn’t reveal itself to me?”
    “Well, yes…a select group of painters from that era cracked the code for time traveling. They were almost a cult and very secretive. They used special fabrics, oils and rituals to enchant the paintings. Some believed that if the painting was completed by a full moon, the first morning dawn would cast an enchantment on the painting.” She shrugged. “Others believed it was the strokes of the brushes the painter used that beckoned the painting to come alive. The one common thread across all the paintings was that they had contrasting finishes depending on the angle you’re looking at…beautiful sunny day versus a gloomy fall day. That’s how I knew it was enchanted. And yes, there was a chance that even though you were the painter’s keeper, the painting still wouldn’t reveal itself to you.”
    “I noticed the color contrast in the painting, but didn’t think too much of it. It was one of the things that drew me to it. That and the beautiful, serene countryside. So, how many paintings are out there?”
    “I’m not sure, but I’ve heard there are portals to almost thirty countries.” She looked at me calmly as if deciding whether to say more.
    “How many portals have you been through?”

Chapter Six
    “Ireland, New Zealand, England, and Peru,” Mrs. Ashton said, as if she was reciting a recipe. “While shopping at an art exhibit in downtown Los Angeles my husband and I discovered a painting of New Zealand. We fell in love with the scenery and the lush green landscape. I already felt drawn to it because my first love—you remember me telling you the story.” She smiled. “Once we got home, the painting came alive at dawn just like yours did. With time, we got up the courage to explore it further, just like you. From then on, we