Revealed by Margaret Peterson Haddix

to watch Charles Lindbergh right before or right after this moment either,” Angela said. “I wish we could just see him talking to Gary and Hodge before showing up at the Skidmores’ house . . .”
    â€œOh,” kid JB said, jerking his body oddly, as if he’d just thought of something that surprised him. “We can actually watch Lindbergh from these monitors. Some of his earlier life, anyway.”
    Angela looked as puzzled as Jonah felt.
    â€œWhy him and not Katherine?” she asked.
    JB squinted hard. He seemed to be struggling to remember something, maybe something that he would have expected to know easily.
    â€œUm . . . because he’s connected to one of the missing kids from history?” kid JB said, and it was strange how doubtful his voice sounded.
    Angela turned her head toward Jonah as if she waswaiting for him to speak next. Jonah didn’t say anything. Angela sighed.
    â€œIs it Jonah?” she asked. “Is Jonah related to Charles Lindbergh?”
    Jonah gulped in a deep breath and held it. He could barely force himself to look at JB to see if he would nod his head yes or shake his head no.
    JB did neither of those things. He scrunched up his face even harder, like a kid in school who’d encountered a virtually impossible question on a test.
    â€œI—I don’t know,” he said, sounding stunned.
    â€œYou are such a liar!” Jonah exploded. He balled up his fists and took a step closer to JB. “I asked you about my original identity days ago—well, before we went back to 1918. I asked you again when I was healing from the bullet wounds. You sure acted like you knew then! Like you knew but you weren’t going to tell me!”
    â€œI did know then!” JB insisted, cowering before Jonah. “But—it’s gone now. I’ve forgotten!”

THIRTEEN
    Jonah took a step back. He didn’t want to believe JB. He would have preferred to keep looming over the smaller boy—maybe even punch him a time or two—until JB screamed, All right! All right! I was lying! I’ll tell you everything! You’re really . . .
    But Jonah did believe JB. The boy looked so baffled, so anguished—he had to be telling the truth.
    â€œYou’re forgetting things too?” Angela said softly.
    â€œNothing else as important as this,” JB assured her. “But it’s like there’s a war going on inside my head. I keep wanting to think in German.”
    â€œGerman?” Jonah repeated incredulously.
    Then he understood. A long time ago—in a different century, a different life—JB had been somebody else. During all the unraveling of identities with the missingchildren, JB had discovered that he himself had once had a different identity in a different time as well: He’d been the troubled second son of Albert and Mileva Einstein. To save him from the ravages of a mental illness that wasn’t curable in the twentieth century, Mileva Einstein had secretly sent him on to the future.
    â€œSo . . . you’re forgetting your life as JB and remembering your life as Tete Einstein?” Jonah asked, trying to figure everything out.
    â€œKind of, but not exactly,” JB said. “It’s more like . . . everything’s frayed and patched and jumbled together. The wires keep getting crossed, and I’m having trouble telling the memories apart. What I told you about my mother boiling a pan of water for steam for me to breathe in? I’m pretty sure that that was Mileva Einstein, not my adoptive mom.”
    â€œYeah,” Angela said as if she’d just thought of something. “Didn’t you tell me once that doctors can cure asthma by your time period in the future?”
    â€œProbably,” JB said. His face twisted again. “But—I don’t remember.”
    Katherine’s been kidnapped, all the other missing kids besides me