Page 65 of Rogue’s Mark

The almost-smile fades. My father is a careful man, and I watch him realize, a beat too late, that this should have been his first question. "You’re right. I was so caught up in... everything, I never asked the one thing I should have. How the hell did you find me?”

Rogue nods. "It was Fischer. He'd been hiding in the Rot for years. Living right under us, under a different name, where nobody would think to look."

My father goes still. "Fischer was in the Rot." He lets out a low whistle.

"He was," Rogue repeats.

I finish the story. "We finally figured out who he really was. And when a man came to us looking for him, we traded him for you. Or more accurately, your location. We didn’t have to think twice about it.”

I expect him to flinch at that but he doesn't. Instead, I watch the warmth drain out of his face and something colder move in behind it.

"Christ. What that means is someone has my location. Someone out there knew where I was, sat on it, and sold it for one man." He looks at Rogue, and the two of them have a whole conversation without a word. "That's… not good news."

"No," Rogue agrees. "It isn't. And I don't know who the guy looking for Fischer was, who he answers to, or how long he's known you were here. That's the part I don't like. Not to mention we don’t know where he took off to, once he got Fischer in his hands. He just disappeared."

My father wasn't as off-grid as he thought. And whoever knew it is still out there.

Shaking his head, he closes the suitcase and slides the whole thing across the table to me.

"It's yours," he says. "All of it. And I want to be clear about what that means, because you deserve the truth." He holds my eyes. "I could never use this. Not because it isn't enough, it's actually more than enough, but because I'm a dead man the moment I step into the open. You're not. You can go where I can’t. You could take this case, leave this city, and get it in front of whatever's left in the world that's still honest. It's enough to clear my name and bring down most of them—Voss, the firm, everyone who signed. You could do that much from somewhere safe, without attracting attention."

The room is quiet.

"You could have a dad again," he continues with a weak smile, like he’s offering something that could get thrown back in his face. "A normal life, or as close as anybody gets to one around here. Just the two of us, like it used to be. No dead malls, no Hunt, no men with guns standing guard. You could be done with all of it." He spreads his hands. "I'm not telling you to leave. I'm telling you that you can. You don't need that place. After everything I cost you, the least I owe you is to make sure you know you're free to escape, if that’s what you want."

And there it is, everything he's offering. A way out, a dad, a safe life. The old me would have grabbed it in a heartbeat. My father back. Done.

I think about it. I owe him, and myself, the honesty of actually thinking about it.

Then I look up.

I look at Rogue, who hasn't moved, who is letting me think this through without putting a single finger on the scale, even though I know what it would cost him to watch me take up my father’s offer and leave the Rot. I think about Armen against the wall, steady, ready to follow whatever I decide and say nothing about it. I think about Sting down on the street, holding the world off so I can sit here and be reunited with my dad, who can offer me a whole different life.

But I don’t need to think about it.

"No," I say. “No thank you. I’m good with how things are.”

He doesn't push. He just waits for the rest.

"You're right that I could take this and go. I believe you." My voice holds. "But you did this alone. You had the truth, all of it, and you carried it by yourself in a room under a cot for years. It almost killed you. It did kill the man you used to be. I can see it on you."

I pause to catch my breath. "I'm going to handle this a little differently, because I can. First, I’m not alone. I am safe with people who will help me work through this. I’m not giving that up. And I'm not stopping at the safe part. The ones at the top, the ones you never reached, those are the ones I want. We finish this together, or I don't want it finished at all.”

For a long moment, my father just looks at me. Then his mouth moves, not quite a smile, something prouder and sadder than that.

"There she is," he says quietly, the same words Rogue uses. "The Vi I know. All right. We do it your way." He glances past me, at the men in the room, and dips his head, just slightly. "All of you."

I put my hand flat on the case he slid across to me.

And I don't take it back to safety.

I take it home.

41

ROGUE

We're still in Renner's room. Nobody's moved.