I was probably barking up the wrong tree. All Lee had said was “highly addictive” substance, and here I was, turning Sky into the Griselda Blanco of energy drinks, with Dylan her disgruntled partner in crime.
I was about to shut the computer down when I noticed one video file. Sky had named it Gonzo Marilyn. I had no idea what that could possibly mean—and I was curious enough to want to sneak a look.
The video file was only one and a half minutes long. I tapped thePlaybutton.
It was black-and-white footage of Marilyn Monroe in that famous glittering dress she wore to celebrate JFK’s birthday. I would have thought for sure it was archival—save for the fact that Marilyn was holding a can of Gonzo. “Happy birthday, Mr. President,” Marilyn crooned in her whispery voice,before toasting the camera with the anachronistic can and then kissing it, as though it were an Academy Award. “Have a Gonzo with me.”
I actually gasped. It was the creepiest thing I’d ever seen: a perfect deep-fake video, in which Marilyn’s every gesture looked real and natural, the lips synched expertly with the voice. And the voice…The voice was perfect.
My phone buzzed. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I pulled it out of my bag and looked at the screen. Sky’s name was on it. My stomach tightened. I shut down the computer fast, as though she could see me through the screen—and for all I knew, she may have developed that technology, too. I took a deep breath, put on a smile, and answered, forcing myself to sound normal. “Hey, Sky.”
“Hey, Sunny,” she said. “I was just wondering if you were able to find everything okay.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I, uh, couldn’t find the Chucks at first, but now I’ve got them, and I’m on my way back.”
“It turns out the doctors and I were a little over-optimistic,” she said. “They want to keep me overnight for observation, so no need to rush. But whenever you get a chance, I’d love to have my stuff anyway. I’m hoping they let me out first thing tomorrow.”
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll be there before visiting hours are over.”
“Thank you so much,” she said. “The pain is really starting to set in, and the thought of my having to wear that Gucci suit…”
I forced a laugh. “Say no more.”
I ended the call.Don’t assume.I said it out loud. “Don’t assume. You don’t know anything yet. Stop creating narratives in your head until you have the facts to back them up.”
Don’t assume. Think. Doubt. Ask questions. Learn the truth.
I grabbed the duffel bag and left her apartment quickly. Once I was outside in the cold, late-afternoon air, I found Elspeth’s number on my phone and called it.
“Oh, hi, Sunny,” she said. “Spike just made me lobster mac and cheese and he’s mixing me a margarita.”
“Lucky you.”
“Right?”
“I’ll let you get back to it, but I wanted to ask you one question.”
“Yeah?”
“That phone call you got from Dylan this morning, when he told you to go back to the office.”
“Yeah?”
“You said you kept trying to ask him why he wanted you to do all these things, but he wouldn’t tell you.”
“That’s right,” she said. “It was scary. But also pretty annoying.”
“I get that,” I said. “Can you tell me, though, if he ever spoke to you directly during this conversation?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did he respond to or repeat anything you said? Did he answer any of your questions? It can be as minor as hissaying ‘Yeah’ or ‘No.’ Or getting angry with you. Telling you to shut up.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Did he say anything to you at all that didn’t sound like he was reading from a script?”
“No,” she said. “I’m telling you. He just kept repeating the same things, over and over and over.”
