Page 31 of City of Liars

Be strong, he told himself as the ghoul reached for the sheet. Elizabeth doesn’t need a coward. If this is the last act you can ever perform for your daughter, you’ll do it clear-eyed and steel-spined.

The ghoul’s pale, spindly fingers pulled the sheet back, inch by terrible inch. As the child’s matted, curly yellow hair appeared, Charles’s chest hitched, remembering all the times Elizabeth had pinned a bow in their daughter’s curls before church. All the times he’d smoothed them as Ella clambered into his lap, eager to show him a picture she’d drawn.

The man tugged the sheet lower still, baring the blue-white curve of the child’s forehead, the closed eyelids, the feathered lashes that rested atop the small girl’s cheeks.

A chill rippled over Charles. He must have made some small sound, because O’Shaughnessy shifted his weight, taking a menacing step toward the attendant.

“Don’t make a meal of it, eh?” he said, his hand falling to his baton. “Get on with it, man. Best to have this business done.”

The ghoul nodded, an odd expression crossing his face. It occurred to Charles that his snail’s pace might be due to his wish not to cause a grieving father pain. He had a moment of compassion for this man, whose job was a terrible one. And then the ghoul yanked the sheet all the way down.

Charles’s legs weakened. His vision darkened, filling with gray dots that swarmed and flickered. He braced himself on the edge of the table and forced himself to focus on her face.

Rounded cheeks, sunken slightly in death. A pointed, elfin chin. Blond curls that fell in a tumble to the child’s shoulders, bits of detritus tangled in them. A small, snub nose.

He gasped. Despite his iron control, a sob escaped his throat.

His knees buckled, and O’Shaughnessy gripped his arm to keep him upright. The man muttered under his breath, saying one of those heathen prayers to St. Something-or-Other. Bridget had often done the same.

Charles cleared his throat, once, then again. “She—” he managed, but no more words would come.

O’Shaughnessy’s grip on his arm tightened, and he left off praying. “Mr. Carter,” he said, “I’m very sorry. Is there someone I can call for you?”

Charles shook his head, pulling free. “There’s no need.” He reached out and touched the girl’s ice-cold face, saying a silent prayer of his own.

“Whoever this poor child might be, it’s not Ella,” he said to the officer and the ghoul, his voice strengthening as he spoke. “It’s not my daughter.”

17

Theo

The phone rang on Wednesday morning, while I was still in bed. Perez had called me the night before about investing in Stellar, a biotech firm developing a revolutionary deep-brain stimulator to slow the progress of neurological disorders. Since Perez’s mom had died of MS, he was pushing Stellar hard, but I had misgivings. We’d gone back and forth for hours, until finally I’d agreed to meet with the firm’s CEO the next time I was in the city.

After we’d hung up, I’d gone for a run on the beach, trying to tire myself out, but no dice. Instead I lay in bed, thinking about Liv—the lush curve of her breasts, the little moans she made as we moved together. Finally, desperate for relief, I’d done something about it, imagining her all around me.

The sun had been rising over the ocean when I dropped off at last, soothed by the lapping waves. I’d dreamed about a small girl carved from ice. She reached out for me, her mouth forming words, but I couldn’t understand a damn thing she said. I woke over and over again, sinking back into an uneasy drowse only to see her face. By the time the phone rang, I was as exhausted as if I’d never closed my eyes at all.

Fumbling for the phone on my bedside table, I grabbed it in time to see Liv’s name on the screen and answer. “Hey,” I managed.

Silence. Then her low laugh came across the line. “Were you sleeping, Theo?”

“What? No.” I blinked, trying to keep my eyes open. “I’m awake.”

“Sure you are. I’ve got a break between clients; someone canceled today. But do you want me to call back later?”

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I propped myself on my elbows. I’d drawn the blinds to fool my body into believing it was nighttime, and a few stray bars of sunlight fell across my comforter. I felt like I was underwater, foggy head and all. “No. I’m good. What’s up?”

Liv sighed. “I talked to her, Theo. To my grandmother. And to my parents, too.”

My heart started thumping, so hard I could hear it. “And?”

“Let’s just say my parents responded exactly how I anticipated they would. As for my grandma, I…um…I told her who you really were. And I asked her for the test.”

I sat up straight, the comforter falling away. “What did she say?”

“She said no, Theo. She said she knew who she was, and taking the test would only cause problems. But she was kind about it. She said she felt terrible for you and for your family.”

I’d grown up skeptical of everyone’s motives, and for good reason. But hearing that Liv had been willing to disrupt her comfortable life for me, to risk angering her family for the sake of a virtual stranger…it moved me.