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That night, I couldn't sleep. Part of it was Bria, of course, and everything that had been said between us. But mostly, I couldn't stop thinking about what my sister had told me-about the man with the green eyes who'd found her wandering around in the forest after Mab had murdered our mother and older sister.
So I got out of bed, headed downstairs, and went into Fletcher Lane's office.
I clicked on the light and stood in the doorway, staring into the room in front of me. The old man's office had always been something of a mess, with papers and folders and pens scattered everywhere, from his battered desk to the bookcases that hugged the walls to the filing cabinets
on either side of the door. Supposedly there was some kind of method to the madness, although I'd never quite gotten the grasp of it. Fletcher had always claimed that there was no need to lock his office, because if someone ever broke in, she'd give up trying to find what she was looking for out of sheer frustration. The only reason I'd been able to find LaFleur's file was because it had actually been in one of the filing cabinets in its proper place.
Even though he'd been dead for a couple of months now, I just hadn't had the heart to clean out Fletcher's office yet. I supposed that part of me wanted to keep everything the way that it had been the day he'd died, as if that would somehow bring him back. The air even still smelled faintly of him-like sugar, spice, and vinegar swirled all together.
But the old man wasn't coming back, and I wanted answers. So I drew in a breath, stepped into the room, and started going through the stacks of papers.
An hour later, I was ready to give up, just as Fletcher had intended. Because I'd found nothing. No files, no papers, nothing that gave me any clue as to why the old man had rescued Bria or how he'd even known she was in trouble in the first place. Once again, Fletcher had kept secrets from me, and now, since the old man was gone, I doubted I'd ever get the answers to my questions.
Tired and disgusted, I headed toward the door. I reached over to flip the light off to go back to bed when something winked at me from one of the bookcases. I looked over and noticed a crystal paperweight sitting on the shelf-one that I'd never seen before. Of course, I hadn't been in Fletcher's office for quite some time before he'd died. Curious, though, I walked over to the bookcase. It took me only half a second to realize that the paperweight was shaped like a small circle surrounded by eight thin rays.
A spider rune. My rune.
But the real kicker was the slim folder underneath the glinting crystal.
Unlike the other manila folders that littered the rest of the room, this one was the same dark brown as the bookcase, which made it practically invisible, along with the fact that most of it had been shoved back and under the books on that particular shelf. It looked like something Fletcher had just put on the bookcase and forgotten about, but I knew it was more than that. The spider rune-shaped paperweight told me as much. Fletcher had left it here for me to find. It was just my own fault that I hadn't bothered to look for it-until now.
My hands shaking just a bit, I slipped the folder off the bookshelf. For Gin, the old man's handwriting scrawled across the front in silver ink. I stared at the words a moment, then went over, sat down behind the desk, opened the folder, and started to read.
It was all there, written down in black-and-white.
Everything Fletcher Lane had observed about my family, every open door and unlocked window at our mansion, every single plan he'd made to get the job done when Mab had hired him, had hired the Tin Man, to assassinate my family.
I read the words, and it was almost like I could hear Fletcher's voice in my mind, patiently explaining things to me.
It started out like any other hit, the old man wrote. I was to kill your mother, Eira Snow, and leave you and your sisters unharmed. I would have done it too. But Mab changed her mind and wanted the three of you dead as well. You know that I don't do that sort of thing.
"No kids," I whispered in the utter silence of the office. "Ever. "
Part of the assassin code that the old man had taught me-the same one he'd lived by for so many years. And apparently, the reason Bria and I were still alive today.
I kept reading. There was more-so much more. Fletcher chronicled it all. How he'd used his various contacts to tell Mab that he didn't murder children. How he told her to hire someone else to do the job. How she'd threatened to find and kill him for turning her down. And finally, how Mab had sent some of her goons after him, while she went to our house to murder my family.
Even as an assassin, I couldn't stand by and do nothing, not while innocent children were being targeted. So I tried to stop it; the old man's handwriting spelled out the words.
But I was detained by some of Mab's men. By the time I got there, it was too late. The mansion was fully engulfed in flames, and Mab was gone. But I found some tracks leading away from the house, and I knew that someone had survived. I found Bria early the next morning, wandering around in the forest, babbling about how she'd run away and how her mother and sisters were dead. So I took her and hid her until I could find a good home for her.
I thought that you were dead, Gin, until you showed up in the alley behind the Pork Pit all those weeks later. You know what happened after that.
I did the best I could for Bria-and for you, Gin. Keeping the two of you apart was the best way I knew to keep you hidden, to keep you safe from Mab, to give you time to grow up, to give me time to train you to be the Spider, the assassin you needed to be to finally defeat her. I hope you know that. I hope you can understand everything I did. I hope you can forgive me someday.
"I know you did your best, Fletcher," I whispered. "I know you did. "
There was more-so much more. But the tears in my eyes blurred the words too much for me to read them. At least for tonight. So I closed the folder, laid my head down on the desk, and stared at the spider rune-shaped crystal paperweight until the sun rose over the eastern mountains.
The next day-Christmas-we all gathered at Owen's mansion.
Me, Finn, and the Deveraux sisters, who brought Vinnie and Natasha Volga along with them. All crowding into Owen's downstairs living room, along with Eva and the two people that she'd invited over for the holiday celebration-her best friend, Violet Fox, and her grandfather, Warren T. Fox. Xavier was there too, with Roslyn Phillips, who'd also brought her sister, Lisa, and young niece, Catherine.
They were all in the living room, drinking my special Christmas punch, shaking the presents that they'd bought for each other, laughing, talking, smiling.
The only person I cared about who wasn't here was Bria.
I hadn't heard from my baby sister since our talk at the Pork Pit yesterday. Xavier had pulled me aside earlier and told me that she was working today so that some of the other cops could spend the holiday with their families. I could have told the giant that Bria had a family too, if only she'd realize it, but I held my tongue. No need to ruin Xavier's day.
