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“What’s that?”
She glances at me sideways. “Never mind.”
“Abigail…wait. Isn’t she the blonde…about forty or so…the one with three kids?”
“Jesus. What’s wrong with you, V? You know her.” She straightens her back and then rolls her shoulders. “She is…she was… a Siren, too.”
“Hmmm.” I have a vague idea of who she's talking about. “Is she the one who covered my clients while I was at the center?”
“Um, yeah, I think so. Why?”
“Just trying to picture her.”
“Anyway,” Melanie says. “We have to look out for one another.”
“Yes,” I agree.
“Because evil exists, and while some people want to blame the vitamins, the real believers know this is the devil's fault.”
Matthew calls for me once again. “I have to go.”
“Let him wait. It’s good for kids.”
“Just a sec,” I call out to Matthew. Melanie knows nothing about kids. When he protests, I hold up one finger. “Give me one minute. I have to find your juice…”
She turns to me. “Marcia Louis works for the manufacturer of the drug we were using to—to keep people super productive—the old vitamins…”
I wait for her to say more, but it takes a bit. It’s almost like she doesn’t know what to say, or rather she does, but isn’t sure how to say it. I know Melanie, and I doubt either is the case.
“And the thing is…” she finally continues, “We just want to make sure she keeps producing.”
“Well, there’s always the rejuvenation center.”
My sarcasm is met with a frown. “Fair point. But Marcia’s not a member. She hasn’t signed the agreement…”
“So it’s a question of ethics suddenly.”
“Come on, V. We’ve always been ethical. And who really knows what kill
ed Abigail Johnson…”
“Right,” I say. It feels like we’re speaking about different things.
“What I want to know is why you would lie about what happened in the guest house when you’re obviously a fan of the meds. We all were…”
“Wasn’t it just Adderall?” I ask, shifting the subject. “Can’t you get that anywhere? Any ol’ black market?”
“It was more than that. A new formula. And honestly, one the church wants to own.” I dig through my bag in search of Matthew’s sippy cup. I don’t ask why, and I know better than to say even a single bit more than what’s absolutely necessary—not to Melanie— and not to anyone else in the New Hope community. It’s too dangerous.
“What I came here to say is you did the right thing, V.”
“What makes you say that?” I ask, because a question is not a confession.
“Just a little something I’m working on.”
“I see.”
“Listen—they’re going to ask you to go away with Elliot Parker tonight. In fact, they’re going to demand it. I wanted to give you a heads-up. I don’t trust what Adam—or the Men’s Alliance— is doing there. So—I need you to dig up some dirt on him. Find out about the deal they have going. But whatever you do—be careful—I’ve heard rumors.”
