Page 95 of Mr. Match

“I don’t know. When I left here four years ago, I left her under the supervision of one of the most trusted private schools in the country.”

I nod. “I knew she went there, but I never paid much attention to her. I didn’t want to make her feel weird.”

“Oh, God, Oliver. I think those Silver people got to her while I was gone. She’s got these friends in this house just off campus called the Antimony Association.”

“Antimony?” I ask. “Isn’t that kinda like a silver—”

“Yes,” Kat says, crying harder now. “It’s them, Oliver. They’re here. They’ve been here the whole time I was gone. They got her. She took me to this brunch this morning. And I don’t even know how to explain how or why it was so damn creepy. Everything was creepy. The tents, the people—kids—all dressed up like they are already powerful adults. And their leader, Lauren, she has this really expensive art on the walls…”

Kat starts crying uncontrollably now. “Shh,” I say. “Stop crying and just tell me, Katya. Just tell what happened.”

“She mentioned you, Oliver!”

“What? How? What did she say?”

Katya sniffs and wipes her face with the back of her hand that has no marker on it. “I said something like, ‘You shouldn’t have that photograph out in the open like that.’ And she said, ‘We use ShrikeSafe Security, so we’re fine.’”

“That’s it?” I ask.

“That’s your company!”

“I know, Kat. But lots of people around here use it. And it’s not really mine. My sisters all own that.” I let her sink into me and we lean back against the bed. She cries softly for a few more minutes, thinking it through. I’m not about to tell her she’s wrong about those people. I just want her to consider all things rationally. And it’s really hard to do that when you’re in a panic.

I smooth her hair down and then lean forward to try to see her face. “We don’t need to figure it all out tonight, you know. Tomorrow everything will become clearer.”

“Tomorrow is her birthday, Oliver.”

Goddamn, she sounds so small and scared right now.

“She’s eighteen. And that’s… she’s getting her call, just like me. I got called back to Lucio Gori. I never got away, Oliver. Never. They let me run. They knew where I was going. They knew what I was doing. And then they came back that summer. And he said, ‘You have until the end of the summer to get Lily set up in school and then I’ll expect you back here.’”

Why didn’t she tell me?

It’s a rhetorical question meant just for me. Because of course, I know why she didn’t tell me.

She was afraid of him. Lucio Gori Senior.

“So I went. But you know what?” She lifts her head off my chest and stares at me in the almost dark.

“What?” I ask.

“I led them right to her.” She starts crying again. “They got to her while I was gone.”

“Shh,” I say, sighing heavily and wrapping my arms around her so tight, I’m afraid I might break a rib. “Trust me for just a little bit longer, can you do that, Katya? If you do, I promise, I will make this all better.”

“This is the moment,” she says, choking back a sob. “This is the real moment when I buy into it. When I start to really believe that nothing can touch us and then everything spins out of control.”

I pet her head like she’s a child. Someone I need to care for and keep safe. “No,” I say. “This is not that moment, Katya. You are safe with me, OK?” I stare at her. I want to make her believe me. “I promise. Nothing is going to stop us from being happy. Nothing. I will give you my love more precious than money. And you will give me yourself. You will come travel with me. And we will stick by each other for as long as we live. I promise.” I murmur it over and over again. “I promise.”

She cries for a little longer, but eventually she falls asleep wrapped up in my arms. I lift her up and place her on the bed. Cover her body and tuck her in.

I sit there with her for a while. Just enjoying the stillness of her sleep. But once I’m sure I wont’ wake her I find her phone in her pile of clothes, go downstairs, and open the door just to the left of the kitchen that might be a pantry, or a broom closet, but which is neither, and enter.

I lock myself inside and turn on the server. While I wait for the internet to boot up, I turn on the TV and calm myself by watching the news sites and checking Katya’s phone. Our faces are all over the networks. It sickens me to see the old charges mentioned again. But it’s necessary. How will I ever travel with Katya if this baggage is dragging behind us?

The server makes some clicking noises that tells me it’s connected, and I open the phone app I use to communicate with him.

He picks up on the third ring. “Yeah,” he says.