Broken Dreams (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 5) by D.W. Moneypenny Page A

realm. Obviously this version of her father recognized Sam but was astonished to see him.
    With doubt and joy battling to shape the contours of his face, Christopher Lantern blinked twice. In almost a whisper, he asked, “What is your name, young man?”
    Sam cleared his throat and swallowed, then stammered his response. “I am Sam. I mean, my name is Sam.”
    The man’s face went a lighter shade of pale, and Mara worried he might faint or something. She stood and took his elbow. “Here, take my seat,” she said.
    Continuing to stare across the table, he grabbed the back of the chair and lowered himself as if he wasn’t sure his knees would hold up. Mara took the seat across from Ping—now positioned between her father and brother. She waited for one of them to say something, but they stared—her father needed time to absorb what he was seeing, and her brother was at a loss for words.
    Ping broke the silence. “Am I correct in believing that you recognize this young man, Dr. Lantern?”
    He’s a doctor, like my dad.
    Without taking his gaze off Sam, Dr. Lantern turned his head in Ping’s direction and said, “He looks remarkably like my son—whose name was also Sam—but who died when he was three years old after falling down a flight of stairs at home.”
    “When he arrived here a short while ago, he claimed to be Mara’s brother,” Ping said. “And Mara claims that she is not the Mara we know but a doppelgänger from an alternate Reality. She appears to accept him as her brother.”
    Dr. Lantern turned to her, eyed her clothing for a brief second and said, “Explain.”
    “It’s true. I’m Mara, but a different version of her from a different realm,” she said. Indicating her brother, she added, “And this is Sam, a version of your son, albeit from a realm in which he did not die as a young child.”
    The right corner of her father’s lips pressed together and turned downward—a tic he had when he doubted something. Seeing it didn’t surprise her since she had inherited his skeptical nature, something her mother enjoyed pointing out. Oddly he didn’t challenge her—something her own version of him would have done.
    His gaze turned back to Sam, who looked back, wide-eyed. “Does he talk?”
    “Usually I can’t get him to shut up,” Mara said. “To be fair though, you caught him by surprise.”
    “ I caught him by surprise?”
    “Sam’s never met his father before,” Mara said. “We—Mom and I—have been discussing a way to introduce him to my father—my realm’s version of you—but it’s a little tough to explain to a man that his dead son wants to get to know him.”
    “Tell me about it,” her father said. “Wait a minute. Your father is not his father? I’m confused.”
    “Sam and I are not from the same realm. It’s a long story—that I’m sure he would love to tell you when he’s not being a mute stump.”
    “Why not just let them meet and let the chips fall where they may?”
    “What?” Mara was still paying more attention to her father’s face than his words.
    “Sam and your father.”
    “Oh! We were afraid he would get hurt.”
    “Sam or his father?”
    “Either. Both.”
    “You can’t fix everything, Mara.”
    Mara smiled. “My dad always says that.”
    “I know,” he said.
    “No, I mean, my version of you says that, back in my realm,” she said.
    The right corner of his lips tightened again.
    “You’re not buying any of this. Are you? The whole alternate-reality thing?”
    “I believe something is going on. You disappeared for more than a week, and now you are back, although dressed a little strangely. And I have to admit that Sam here resembles what I had imagined your brother would look like if he’d had the chance to grow up. But alternative versions of people from other realities? That’s a lot to swallow at one sitting.”
    “I understand. It took me a while to come around when I first met Sam, but we’ve got some compelling evidence that