Timeless Read Online Free

Michele knew in that moment that her mom was stronger than the rest. That she was special.
    “Michele? Michele!”
    Michele’s head snapped up. Her teacher was eyeing her sternly.
    “Let’s see if you were paying attention,” Mrs. Brewer said. “What is the name of the family that became the Windsors’ greatest rivals in both business and society, and why?”
    “The Walker family,” Michele answered automatically. “They had a majority ownership in some of the railroads the Windsors wanted to gain control of. And the women in the two families were always trying to upstage each other in society.”
    Mrs. Brewer raised her eyebrows, clearly surprised by Michele’s knowledge. “That’s right,” she said slowly.
    Kristen caught Michele’s eye and the two of them shared a knowing look. Kristen was the one who had told Michele about the Walkers. She and Amanda were the only friends who knew Michele’s secret and, curious about her famous family, had done their fair share of research. But they had guarded the secret well. No one else ever could have imagined that ordinary Michele Windsor had been born to blue blood.

W hen the bell rang for lunch a few hours later, Michele jumped out of her seat, relieved to have calculus class behind her. Math was definitely not one of her strong suits. She threw her textbook and binder into her bag and hurried out of the classroom, heading toward the school’s front entrance. Marion hadn’t arrived yet, so Michele hopped onto a bench to wait. Friends trickled by on their way to lunch, stopping to say hi and share choice bits of the day’s gossip.
    Ten minutes later there was still no sign of her mom. Michele pulled her cell phone out of her bag and dialed Marion’s number, but the call went to voice mail. Just as she was about to leave a message, her attention was diverted by a policecar pulling up to the school. Michele stared at the officer who got out of the car, his face drawn. With a flicker of curiosity, she wondered which one of her classmates might be in trouble.
    The policeman’s eyes met hers and then he did a double take, glancing down at something in his hands. With a stab of fear, she saw that he was now heading in her direction. He’s probably just going to ask if I have any information on someone or something , she reassured herself, shifting nervously on her seat. Still, she couldn’t keep her imagination at bay as he came closer. She tried to stay calm as visions of drugs being planted in her locker and similar offenses danced in her head.
    “Hello. Are you Michele Windsor?” asked the officer, a ruddy-faced man of middle age.
    Michele nodded shakily and got to her feet. She cringed as she realized that her mom was probably going to pull up to the school at any moment, only to find her being interrogated by the police.
    The officer placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m afraid I have some bad news. You should probably sit down for this.”
    Michele’s body turned cold. She stumbled back onto the bench and looked from the policeman to the school parking lot, torn between a desperate need to find out what was going on and an equally desperate urge to run away.
    “I’ve just come from Santa Monica Hospital,” he continued quietly. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am to have to say this, but your mother got into a car accident at eight-fifteen this morning. Another driver was speeding and ran a red light, colliding with your mother’s vehicle. And I’m afraid … she didn’t make it.”
    “What?” Michele asked uncomprehendingly. She had heard wrong. There was no way—
    “Your mother is”—the policeman looked down uncomfortably—“dead.”
    No. No no no no no no . Michele shook her head frantically and jumped off the bench. Her mother’s words to her that morning echoed in her ears: “See you at lunch, honey.”
    “No!” Michele gasped. “That’s impossible. You’ve got the wrong person! I just saw my mom this morning, she