Page 110 of Hellbent

He took a wet breath. Let the next set of cards tick past his thumb.

New Year’s. Valentine’s. Easter. Birthday. First day of school. Halloween. Thanksgiving. Christmas.

The last opened card was Thanksgiving, the one that had fallen out of her rucksack in the foot well of the stolen car yesterday.

He pulled out the one behind it, sealed in an envelope that said “Christmas.”

He scrolled ahead, the labels jumping out at him. “Easter.”

“Halloween.”

“Your 18th Bday.”

And then they stopped.

In the bathroom the sink water turned off.

He closed the shoe box, set it back on the couch, and returned to where he’d been sitting.

Joey emerged, wiping her face on a towel. She slung it over the couch back and sat again on the cushions and sheets. She noted the shoe box’s return and then stared at her lap.

Finally she said, “That’s when I went into the system.”

“I’m sorry.”

“The cards, they’re gonna run out when I turn eighteen,” Joey said. “Then what’ll I have?”

He showed her the respect of not offering an answer.

“After I ran away from Van Sciver, that’s where Jack found me. Visiting her grave.” She looked down, gave a soft smile. Her thick mane was swept across, the shaved side exposed, two halves of a beautiful whole. “He was smart like that. He knew how my heart worked.”

Evan nodded, not trusting his voice. Yes, he was. Yes, he did.

After a time Joey slid down into the sheets and curled up, her head on the pillow. “I never fall asleep with anyone in the room,” she said.

“Should I leave?”

“If you want to stay, it’s fine.”

Evan said, “I do.”

He sat and watched the curve of her shoulder, the tousled hair on her cheek. Her blinks grew languorous. And then her eyes closed. Her breathing grew regular, took on a rasp.

He rose silently and eased from the room.

48

Something Akin to Pride

After checking the deep-learning software in the Vault before sunrise the next morning, Evan meditated, showered, and then walked down the hall to the kitchen.

Joey was up early as well, digging in the freezer, an ice pack in one hand, the bottle of Stoli Elit: Himalayan Edition in the other.

She heard him coming and looked over her shoulder. “Don’t you have any frozen burritos or whatever?”

“Careful with that,” Evan said, nodding at the Stoli. “It’s three thousand dollars a bottle.”

Joey appraised it. “Is it worth it?”