Inspector Milo Finch had always believed there were three things a person should never do.

The first was to insult a bear.

The second was to eat suspicious soup.

The third was to discover that a golden gear had somehow grown inside your hand.

Unfortunately, Milo had now managed to do all three.

The bear incident had happened when he was twelve.

The soup incident had happened last Tuesday.

The golden gear incident had happened approximately five minutes ago.

Milo stared at the golden symbol on his palm.

Clara stared at it too.

The mayor stared at it.

Edgar stared at it.

The cat stared at it.

Milo pointed at the cat.

“Why is everyone looking at me except the cat?”

The cat blinked.

Milo narrowed his eyes.

“Exactly.”

Clara grabbed his wrist.

“Stop worrying about the cat.”

“How can I?”

“We have bigger problems.”

Milo looked at the golden gear beneath his skin.

“You’re right.”

The gear suddenly moved.

Milo screamed.

Clara screamed.

The mayor screamed.

Edgar screamed.

The cat calmly walked away.

Milo pointed after it.

“THAT CAT KNOWS EVERYTHING!”

Clara shouted:

“MILO!”

“Fine!”

Milo took a deep breath.

“Okay.”

He looked at his hand.

The golden gear was spinning slowly.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Every time it moved, Milo felt a strange warmth travel through his arm.

“What does this mean?” he asked.

The mayor shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

Milo stared at her.

“You’re the mayor of a town built on top of a secret time machine.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t know?”

“No.”

Milo looked at Clara.

“She needs a better job description.”

The mayor ignored him.

“The gear has chosen you.”

Milo frowned.

“Everyone keeps saying that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Why?”

“Because you are connected to the machine.”

Milo’s expression became serious.

“My father.”

The mayor nodded.

“Your father.”

Milo looked at the clock tower.

“Then we’re going to find him.”

Clara grabbed his arm.

“Where?”

Milo pointed at his hand.

“I have no idea.”

“Excellent.”

“Thank you.”

The mayor stepped closer.

“We need to go back.”

“Back where?”

“To the underground chamber.”

Milo’s eyes widened.

“The chamber that collapsed?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Milo.”

“No.”

“We need to find the machine.”

“No.”

“Your father may be there.”

Milo stopped.

Clara looked at him.

Milo sighed.

“Fine.”

The four of them returned to the clock tower.

The entrance was strangely quiet.

Too quiet.

Milo didn’t like it.

“Something is wrong.”

Clara nodded.

“What?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then why did you say something is wrong?”

“Because detectives have to say things like that.”

They entered the tower.

The enormous clock mechanism was still.

Not a single gear moved.

Milo looked up.

The clock had no hands.

“Where did the hands go?”

Clara shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

Milo pointed toward the floor.

“Maybe the cat took them.”

Clara turned.

“Milo.”

“What?”

“Stop.”

“Fine.”

They reached the staircase.

The mayor stopped.

“Wait.”

Everyone froze.

“What?”

The mayor pointed at the wall.

There was a message written in black ink.

THE FOURTH GEAR IS NOT IN YOUR HAND.

Milo stared.

“That’s strange.”

Clara looked at him.

“Why?”

“Because I can clearly see the fourth gear in my hand.”

Milo raised his palm.

The golden gear was gone.

Everyone froze.

Milo stared at his hand.

“That’s not good.”

The mayor stepped forward.

“Where did it go?”

Milo looked around.

“I don’t know.”

Clara examined his palm.

“There’s no mark.”

Milo frowned.

“But I saw it.”

“Yes.”

“Then where is it?”

A voice came from the staircase.

“Inside you.”

Everyone turned.

Professor Tickwell stood above them.

Milo immediately pointed.

“You!”

Tickwell raised his hands.

“Please.”

“You disappeared!”

“I had to.”

“You keep doing that!”

“I know.”

“Stop it!”

“I’ll try.”

Milo marched toward him.

“Where have you been?”

“Trying to keep you alive.”

“You’re not doing a very good job.”

Tickwell sighed.

“Come with me.”

“No.”

“Milo.”

“No.”

“Your father is alive.”

Milo stopped.

The room went silent.

Clara stared at the professor.

“You know where he is?”

Tickwell nodded.

Milo stepped forward.

“Tell me.”

“Not here.”

“Why?”

“Because someone is listening.”

Everyone looked around.

Milo whispered:

“Who?”

Tickwell pointed toward the clock.

“The man behind the Thirteenth Hour.”

Milo’s expression changed.

“Who is he?”

Tickwell shook his head.

“We need to leave.”

“No.”

“Milo.”

“You’ve been hiding things from me for years.”

“I was protecting you.”

“From what?”

Tickwell looked at Milo’s hand.

“From yourself.”

Milo stared at him.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It will.”

Suddenly, a loud sound came from the tower.

CLANG!

Everyone jumped.

Something moved above them.

Clara raised her flashlight.

“Who’s there?”

Nothing.

Then another sound.

CLANG!

Milo looked up.

“Something is in the clock.”

Tickwell’s face went pale.

“Impossible.”

Milo smiled.

“That’s my favorite word.”

They climbed the stairs.

At the top, they found a small metal door.

It was slightly open.

Milo pushed it.

Inside was a tiny room.

On the wall were dozens of photographs.

Milo stepped inside.

Clara followed.

The mayor stopped at the doorway.

Milo looked at the photographs.

His heart stopped.

They were photographs of him.

As a child.

At school.

At home.

Walking through Bellwick.

Sleeping.

Playing.

There were hundreds.

Milo slowly stepped backward.

“Who took these?”

Nobody answered.

He picked up one photograph.

On the back was a date.

Twenty-five years ago.

Milo stared.

“I was three.”

Clara looked at another.

“I think someone has been watching you your entire life.”

Milo’s voice became quiet.

“Why?”

Tickwell finally spoke.

“Because they were waiting.”

“For what?”

“For you to grow up.”

Milo turned.

“Why?”

Tickwell looked at him.

“Because you are the key.”

Milo stared.

“The key to what?”

“The machine.”

Before anyone could answer, a loud crash came from outside.

The window shattered.

A black feather flew into the room.

Milo caught it.

Clara stared.

“Another feather.”

Milo examined it.

Then his face changed.

“This isn’t a feather.”

“What?”

Milo pulled it apart.

Inside was a thin piece of metal.

Engraved on it were three words.

THE FOURTH GEAR.

Milo’s eyes widened.

“Someone is sending us clues.”

Clara frowned.

“Or warnings.”

The lights suddenly went out.

Milo heard footsteps.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

Someone was inside the room.

Milo whispered:

“Nobody move.”

Clara whispered:

“Why?”

“Because I’m scared.”

The footsteps stopped.

Then something grabbed Milo’s shoulder.

Milo screamed.

He turned around.

Nothing.

“Who touched me?”

Nobody answered.

Then he noticed something.

The photographs were changing.

The images were moving.

Milo stared.

In one photograph, his father was standing behind him.

Milo stepped closer.

His father was holding something.

A golden gear.

Milo touched the photograph.

Suddenly, a voice came from it.

“Milo.”

He froze.

“Father?”

The photograph moved.

His father’s mouth opened.

“Do not trust Tickwell.”

Milo turned.

Professor Tickwell was gone.

Again.

Milo sighed.

“Of course.”

Clara looked around.

“Where did he go?”

Milo pointed at the empty doorway.

“Apparently, disappearing is his hobby.”

The mayor stepped forward.

“There’s something you need to know.”

Milo turned.

“What?”

The mayor looked nervous.

“Your father wasn’t the only person who disappeared.”

Milo waited.

“Your mother disappeared too.”

The room became silent.

Milo stared.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry.”

Milo shook his head.

“My mother died.”

“That’s what you were told.”

Milo’s face went pale.

“Who told me?”

The mayor looked away.

“Professor Tickwell.”

Milo’s breathing became faster.

“So my mother is alive?”

The mayor nodded.

“Somewhere.”

“Where?”

“We don’t know.”

Milo stared at the photograph.

“My parents are alive.”

Clara placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Milo.”

He stepped away.

“I need answers.”

Then the room began shaking.

The photographs fell from the walls.

The clock tower groaned.

A deep voice echoed through the building.

“FINALLY.”

Everyone froze.

The voice continued.

“THE KEY HAS AWAKENED.”

Milo looked around.

“Who said that?”

The voice laughed.

“The man you have been searching for.”

Milo raised his voice.

“Show yourself!”

A shadow appeared in the doorway.

A tall figure stepped into the room.

Black coat.

Black gloves.

Black hat.

The same figure Milo had seen in the vision.

The man behind the Thirteenth Hour.

Milo stepped forward.

“Who are you?”

The man removed his hat.

Milo stared.

His face was old.

Very old.

But familiar.

Milo’s eyes widened.

“No.”

Clara looked at him.

“What?”

Milo whispered:

“I know you.”

The man smiled.

“You should.”

Milo pointed at him.

“You’re…”

The man nodded.

“Yes.”

Milo’s voice shook.

“You’re Samuel Bell.”

Samuel laughed.

“No.”

Milo froze.

Samuel stepped closer.

“That man was my grandfather.”

Milo stared.

“Then who are you?”

The old man smiled.

“My name is Elias Bell.”

Clara stepped forward.

“Samuel Bell’s son?”

Elias nodded.

“Yes.”

Milo frowned.

“But Samuel was supposed to be over one hundred and fifty years old.”

Elias laughed.

“Samuel is dead.”

“Then why did we see him?”

“Because the machine created a copy.”

Milo stared.

“A copy?”

“An echo.”

Clara shook her head.

“This is getting ridiculous.”

Elias smiled.

“Time is ridiculous.”

Milo pointed at him.

“Where are my parents?”

Elias’s smile disappeared.

“Your father is inside the machine.”

Milo froze.

“What?”

“Your mother too.”

“How do I get them out?”

“You can’t.”

Milo stepped forward.

“Why?”

“Because they are part of the machine now.”

Milo’s hands began shaking.

“What does that mean?”

Elias looked at him.

“Your father tried to destroy the machine.”

“And?”

“He failed.”

“Then what?”

“He became its guardian.”

Milo stared.

“And my mother?”

“She became its prisoner.”

Clara gasped.

Milo looked at Elias.

“Why?”

“Because she discovered the truth.”

“What truth?”

Elias pointed toward Milo.

“The machine isn’t recording time.”

Milo frowned.

“Then what is it doing?”

Elias whispered:

“It’s collecting people.”

Silence.

“Why?”

“To build something.”

“What?”

Elias smiled.

“The perfect timeline.”

Milo shook his head.

“Why?”

“Because this timeline is broken.”

Milo stepped closer.

“Who decides that?”

Elias pointed at himself.

“I do.”

Milo stared.

“You?”

Elias nodded.

“I have spent more than a century fixing the mistakes of humanity.”

Clara stepped forward.

“By erasing people?”

“By correcting history.”

“That’s murder.”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“Editing.”

Milo’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re insane.”

Elias smiled.

“Perhaps.”

Milo suddenly lunged.

Elias disappeared.

Milo crashed into the wall.

Clara grabbed him.

“Are you okay?”

Milo stood up.

“No.”

“Why?”

“I hate this town.”

Suddenly, Elias’s voice echoed from everywhere.

“You cannot stop the Thirteenth Hour.”

Milo shouted:

“Watch me!”

The tower shook.

Elias laughed.

Then the clock began moving.

One hand appeared.

Then another.

Milo stared.

The clock showed midnight.

Clara whispered:

“It has started.”

Milo looked at her.

“What?”

“The final countdown.”

The clock began ticking.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Elias’s voice echoed.

“When the clock strikes thirteen, this timeline will be replaced.”

Milo looked terrified.

“How long?”

Clara checked the clock.

“One hour.”

Milo looked at everyone.

“Then we have one hour to stop him.”

The mayor nodded.

“We need the machine.”

Milo shook his head.

“No.”

Everyone looked at him.

“We need the gears.”

Clara frowned.

“The gears?”

Milo looked at his hand.

“The thirteen gears are the key.”

“But they’re inside the machine.”

Milo shook his head.

“Not all of them.”

He looked toward the clock.

“The fourth gear is inside me.”

Clara stared.

“What does that mean?”

Milo smiled.

“For once…”

He pulled out his police notebook.

“…I have a plan.”

Clara stared at him.

“Is it a good plan?”

Milo paused.

“No.”

“Of course.”

“But it’s a plan.”

Milo turned toward the stairs.

“We find the machine.”

The mayor followed.

“Then what?”

“We remove the gears.”

Clara frowned.

“How?”

Milo looked at her.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s your plan?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not a plan.”

“Then we’ll call it an adventure.”

They began running down the stairs.

Behind them, the clock continued ticking.

The town outside had begun to change.

Buildings flickered.

Streets disappeared.

People vanished for seconds at a time and then returned.

Bellwick was being rewritten.

Milo looked through a window.

A bakery disappeared.

Then reappeared.

Mrs. Bumble suddenly appeared in the middle of the street wearing a pirate costume.

Milo stopped.

“Why is she dressed like a pirate?”

Clara looked.

“I don’t know.”

Mrs. Bumble shouted:

“WHERE IS MY SHIP?”

Milo shook his head.

“That’s not good.”

They reached the bottom of the tower.

The secret staircase was gone.

Milo stared at the wall.

“We’re trapped.”

Clara looked around.

“There’s another way.”

“Where?”

She pointed at the cat.

The cat was sitting beside a hidden door.

Milo stared.

“Of course.”

The cat meowed.

Milo walked toward it.

“Listen, you suspicious little criminal.”

The cat stared.

“We need your help.”

The cat turned around.

Milo followed.

The cat walked toward the door.

Then stopped.

Milo waited.

The cat looked at him.

Milo looked at the cat.

“Open it.”

The cat blinked.

“Please?”

The cat sat down.

Milo sighed.

“Fine.”

He pulled out a piece of sausage from his pocket.

Clara stared.

“Why do you have sausage?”

“Detective equipment.”

Milo held it out.

The cat immediately opened the secret door.

Everyone stared.

Milo nodded.

“See?”

Clara shook her head.

“I don’t even want to know.”

They entered.

A long tunnel stretched beneath the town.

At the end was a massive iron door.

Milo placed his golden hand against it.

The door opened.

Beyond it was the machine.

But this time, it was different.

The thirteen gears were spinning.

The thirteenth gear was glowing.

And standing in front of the machine was Elias Bell.

Beside him stood Professor Tickwell.

Milo froze.

“Professor.”

Tickwell looked at him.

“I’m sorry.”

Milo’s voice became cold.

“You betrayed us.”

“No.”

“Then why are you standing beside him?”

Tickwell looked toward Elias.

“Because I had no choice.”

Elias smiled.

“Everyone has a choice.”

Milo stepped forward.

“Where are my parents?”

Elias pointed toward the machine.

Milo looked.

Inside the glass chamber were two figures.

A man.

A woman.

Milo’s breath stopped.

His father.

His mother.

Alive.

Milo whispered:

“Mom?”

The woman opened her eyes.

“Milo.”

He ran forward.

The machine suddenly shocked him backward.

Milo fell.

Clara screamed.

“Don’t touch it!”

Milo stood.

“Get them out!”

Elias shook his head.

“Not until the thirteenth hour.”

“Why?”

“Because then the machine will be complete.”

Milo looked at the thirteen gears.

“Then I’ll stop it.”

Elias smiled.

“Try.”

Milo stepped forward.

The fourth gear inside his hand began spinning.

The machine reacted.

The thirteen gears moved faster.

The room shook.

Milo’s father shouted from inside the chamber:

“NOW!”

Milo looked at him.

His father shouted again:

“BREAK THE FOURTH GEAR!”

Milo stared at his hand.

“How?”

His father shouted:

“Trust yourself!”

Milo looked at Clara.

Clara nodded.

Milo clenched his fist.

The golden gear began cracking.

Elias’s face changed.

“No!”

Milo shouted:

“Now!”

He slammed his hand against the machine.

CRACK!

The fourth gear shattered.

The entire machine exploded with light.

Elias screamed.

The clocks began ringing.

One.

Two.

Three.

Milo fell to the floor.

The machine began collapsing.

Clara grabbed him.

“Get up!”

Milo looked around.

“What happened?”

“We broke it!”

“Excellent!”

“Not completely!”

“Oh.”

The clock above them began ringing.

DONG.

DONG.

DONG.

Milo looked upward.

“How many?”

Clara counted.

“Eleven.”

Milo stood.

“We have two left.”

Elias was lying on the floor.

The mayor was unconscious.

Professor Tickwell was trapped beneath a fallen beam.

And Milo’s parents were still inside the machine.

Milo ran toward the chamber.

His mother pressed her hand against the glass.

“Milo!”

He placed his hand against hers.

“I’ll get you out.”

His father shook his head.

“No.”

Milo stared.

“What?”

His father looked terrified.

“You don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“The machine isn’t the real enemy.”

Milo froze.

“Then who is?”

His father looked behind him.

Milo turned.

Elias was standing.

But his face had changed.

The old man was gone.

In his place stood a much younger man.

Milo stared.

Elias smiled.

“You finally understand.”

Milo stepped backward.

“You’re not Elias.”

The man smiled.

“No.”

“Who are you?”

The man looked at the clock.

“Ask your father.”

Milo turned.

His father was crying.

Milo’s voice trembled.

“Who is he?”

His father whispered:

“Your brother.”

Milo froze.

Clara gasped.

The machine began to shake.

The clock rang.

DONG.

DONG.

Twelve.

Only one bell remained.

The mysterious man smiled.

“My name is Adrian Finch.”

Milo stared.

“Finch?”

Adrian nodded.

“Your older brother.”

Milo shook his head.

“I don’t have a brother.”

Adrian smiled.

“Not in this timeline.”

The thirteenth bell began to rise.

Milo stared at him.

Adrian stepped toward the machine.

“I was erased.”

Milo whispered:

“Why?”

“Because your father chose you.”

Milo looked at his parents.

His mother cried.

His father looked away.

Adrian raised his hand.

The thirteenth gear began to glow.

“The machine didn’t choose you, Milo.”

Milo stared.

Adrian smiled.

“I did.”

DONG.

The thirteenth bell rang.

The entire world went white.

And when the light disappeared…

Bellwick was gone.