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“No. It’s not. I downed my beer and told the woman I’d meet her in the back. Went outdoors. Saw Sam. Called out to him. He entered, and seconds later, the building exploded. The force of the blast threw me back ten feet.”
This is what he thinks happened, but it doesn’t mean that’s what happened.
“If I’d gone with him, we would’ve circled the building, checked for trip wires. I was always better at seeing the wires than Sam.” He rubs his face with his hand, over and over. “I’m so sorry, Sage. But that’s the truth. That’s what happened. There is no way Sam survived.”
I don’t believe it. He’s wrong. But I don’t have the strength to argue. I feel dead inside.
CHAPTER 31
Sage
“What are you thinking about?”
Ava’s at my side, on her deck. She brought me tea and set it on the small table beside my chair. The space overlooks a manicured back yard with a lap pool and, beyond the hedge, a stretch of white, sandy beach and ocean. Palm trees sway along the sides of the property. I’ve learned she’s a therapist. She’s not pushy, but she asks probing questions.
For the last several days, she’s been the consummate hostess. Always checking to ensure Knox and I are hydrated and well-fed. Suggesting things we can do, on the Sullivan property, of course. Swim. Work out in the gym. I’ve had no energy, but she’s been gently encouraging activity to stimulate endorphins.
Typically, she’s dressed casually. Today, she’s dressed in an elegant black dress and thick fuzzy socks. Today is the day of the funeral.
I pull my knees tighter against my chest. There’s a surfer far off in the distance. He, or she, is in a wet suit, and they’re so far out they’re a speck in the water. The distance from the shore can’t be safe.
“The information they’re getting this time…they have good reason to believe it’s accurate. They’re going to find your sister and bring her home.” Sloane. “This is all going to be over before you know it.”
Maybe. I contacted the school and spoke to our headmaster. He’d known about my house fire and, without my getting into specifics, he graciously gave me an extra week. I assured him I could get the classroom ready and be prepared for the start of school. I could’ve been working on name signs for the cubbies and for desks. We received our classroom lists days ago. But I’ve been in a funk.
And my funk has nothing to do with Sloane. I’m worried for my sister, but concern isn’t the only emotion percolating. I keep coming back to questioning how she got herself into this. How she could agree to work for someone who is breaking the law and willing to murder to avoid getting caught. I don’t doubt she rationalized her decisions, whatever they were. While we obviously never had the conversation, I can hear her telling me the morality rules limiting her research held back science, and the path they chose would be better for humanity in the long run. She’d tell me, dripping her self-righteous, no-fault attitude. Something along those lines is why she went to work for monsters. Why she left to work in a country with notoriously lax governance. If I know my sister, and I do, that’s the only explanation that explains everything that has happened.
When she returns, she’ll explain her reasoning. I’ll disagree. And we’ll move on because she’s my sister and I love her. She’s all I have. We’ll move forward and put this behind us. But that thought alone is where I stumble over guilt. I could drown in the guilt.
“It will never be over for Maria. Or Rafael.” My chest aches. An unrelenting pressure emanating from my thoracic cavity. It’s one thing when someone dies from an illness. It’s horrible, but there’s no guilt. This time, guilt gnaws a sensitive place, intensifying the pain.
“True.” She sips her tea. Her dark eyes watch me closely. I’m sure there’s more she wants to say, but she’s hoping I say more.
But what is there to say?
I keep thinking of Maria. At the soccer game. At lunch. And I ask the question that’s been weighing on me but that I haven’t been brave enough to ask. “Is Maria pregnant?”
“She miscarried. That’s one of the reasons Felix stayed behind. I don’t think she was very far along, but she’d had trouble in the past. How did you know?”
“She didn’t drink alcohol at lunch.” Ava listens intently. “And I heard Felix asking if she was okay. I didn’t think…he said it was Rafael’s birthday.”
“Sage. None of this is your fault.”
The automatic sliding door emits a low mechanical whir as it opens. Knox steps out onto the deck. His black suit accentuates his broad shoulders and height. He borrowed the graphite tie from Jack Sullivan, our host. I overheard them talking about it. Freshly shaved, he’s as handsome as ever. The lines around his eyes and a more muscular build are the differences from his high school days when he’d dress up for game days in a far less tailored suit.
He’s been attentive and caring since his return. Doting over me when he’s not in Jack’s office, on conference calls, or working with the other guys in the security room downstairs. Yes, there’s an entire room on the basement level of this house dedicated to the security team. The men Jack hires for security are Arrow Tactical employees, therefore they’re all Knox’s colleagues.
He’s been treating me with kid gloves. I’m quiet. Despondent. Melancholic. But I did this. It’s my fault. Felix’s life ended because of me. His son will grow up without a father because of me. His wife is now a heartbroken single mother because of me. As if I haven’t already done enough during my life just by living. The heart and lungs inside me belong to a twenty-six-year-old woman who died in a car crash. Another match didn’t get her organs because I was higher on the list, and that person may have died. I don’t know, but it’s likely. Approximately six thousand people die each year in the U.S. alone awaiting organs.
I shouldn’t be here. If I wasn’t here, if I had died waiting for organs, Felix would be alive today. Maria would have her husband, and Rafael his father.
Each night Knox holds me close, and I stay in his arms until his breath evens out, and then I push away, finding reprieve between the crisp, cool sheets close to the edge. Last night, we made love. He was tender, attentive. Quiet. Toward the end, when Knox was close, he saw my tears. I don’t know why I teared up. I shouldn’t have. I haven’t been crying.
He froze. Concerned. Probably the worst sex of his life. Neither of us came. I got up and went to the bathroom, and then he went to the bathroom. It was awkward. Not what a guy like Knox wants. Or is used to.
“I guess I should go change my shoes,” Ava says to Knox. They’ve been talking about today’s travel plans. They’re flying in a helicopter to the funeral. Knox didn’t want me to go. He doesn’t trust that it’s safe. I’m not about to bring risk to a mourning family, but I imagine they don’t want me there, anyway. I expect I’m the last person Maria wants to see.
“We’ve got a video for you to see. It’s one we found on the phone of Omar Cardenas.”
