Chapter 14: Choosing Sides

21.

“I heard from your father that in the port cities down south, a lot of blond, blue-eyed people have arrived by ship.”

“They’re looking to trade with us.”

My heart sank.

A chill crept up my spine—the old pattern repeating, history’s wheel grinding on. “The country is corrupt and stagnant, rebellion is everywhere. If things continue, it’ll be the same old story as before.”

My mom looked out the window at the children in the next room, their faces full of energy.

“I don’t want the people here, or this land, to suffer that pain again.”

“Even if what I’m doing is futile, what if it changes things, even just a little?”

My mom’s hazel eyes shone.

Suddenly, I understood, and a wave of panic rose in me.

“Mom, what exactly do you want to do?”

She turned to me, her gaze steady.

“American sons and daughters are full of ambition, and dare to change the world.”

Her words hung in the air like a challenge, an echo from the Declaration, the Revolution, and every march for justice since.

22.

I was stunned for a while, finally understanding her thoughts.

My hands and feet turned cold.

I was a little afraid.

Truly afraid.

But my chest felt hot.

My mom sighed.

She told me she really had no other intentions in bringing me here.

She was just too lonely—no one could understand her, until she finally met me, a soul from the same time and space.

She said she only wanted to teach me some progressive ideas, so I wouldn’t waste my life in the future.

But now, it seems that’s unnecessary.

This is good enough.

As for here—

“Jenny, this is what I have to do. It has nothing to do with you,” my mom said seriously.

But her eyes betrayed her—hopeful, scared, fiercely proud. I knew she was both warning and inviting me.