CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Oliver stared mournfully back at the factory he was now barred from. It had been his home for such a short amount of time but it meant more to him than any home he’d ever lived in. He didn’t know what he would do without it.
From the outside, its differences from his version—the one that existed more than seventy years in the future—were even more startling. The faded red bricks were bright. The rainwater stains and splatters of bird poop were completely absent. Where before there had been caved in roof tiles and smashed up windows, now everything was exactly as it should be. The ivy that had overtaken the factory’s facade in Oliver’s era was little more than a manageable shrub, and the nettles that had stung him as he’d first explored the perimeter were nonexistent. The
