Page 57 of No Merciful Corruption

Lettie: going through all of this just to catch our brother in a lie is so stupid

Tell him you know he’s been in New York this whole time and get it over with

What’s the harm in asking?

Me: Because I have a gut feeling about something

If I ask him about it, he’ll lie

And I need to be absolutely sure

I wait for my brother on the tarmac and watch as he descends the airstairs to meet me. He’s fully committed to the bit and arrived an entire hour before I did to properly set the stage. Right now, the jet is being fully serviced so while one crew works on refueling and repairs, another is inside cleaning and restocking. Our usual flight crew isn’t here—pilot and flight attendants—and he probably had them swapped out because he didn’t want to run the risk of one of them accidentally outing him

“You’re late,” I say.

He glares at me. “You just got here. I’m the one who landed an hour ago.”

He’s convincing, I’ll give him that much.

“Change of plans.” I tilt my head toward the car. “We’re spending the night.”

“Spending the night?” he stares at me incredulously. “Everything’s ready to go, I thought⁠—”

“Changed my mind. We’re not leaving tonight or for the foreseeable future.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Alejandro, whatever’s going on between you and Dahlia I want no part in it. I have better things to do than be your chauffeur in the sky.”

I head toward the car and wait for him to follow. “Come on. We’re staying at The North Star.”

* * *

My brother’s like a mouse caught in a trap.

He doesn’t know how he got here but he still thinks he can escape with his tail intact if he evades notice. I watch him squirm the entire car ride back into the city, sense his anxiety when we reach The North Star, and can hear him pacing in the middle of the night when extreme jet lag should’ve caused him to crash hours ago.

Over breakfast he hounds me with questions I answer vaguely and he avoids speaking to me on the way to Dahlia’s.

Part of me wonders if I’m wrong. My theory is a little far-fetched but my instincts have never steered me wrong before. I know my brother so well that even as he feigns indifference and irritation, I can read his thoughts as easily if they were printed on a page in front of me.

He’s shitting bricks right now.

He’s wondering if he’s been found out, running through everything he’s done in the past month, and trying to figure out where he slipped up. Where did he forget to cross his t’s and dot his I’s and did anyone figure out what bank account he was using and was he being followed and if so then for how long?

We get to Dahlia’s and I use my key to unlock the front door. Diego looks around with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes, curious about where we are and why we’re here.

Before I can explain, someone comes to a staggering stop on the second-floor landing. I couldn’t have planned this any better myself.

“Karina,” I smile. “You remember my brother, Diego. He’s visiting.”

Karina swallows and runs a trembling hand down the front of her shirt. “Diego…hi. It’s…it’s been a long⁠—”

“Over a year.” I watch as a muscle in his jaw jumps. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I think you both said that already.” I take off my coat and open the closet door to hang it up. “Where’s Dahlia?”

“I don’t know. I was just about to go downstairs and look.” Karina replies but she’s not looking at me.