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Jamie didn’t say a word when I told him Laurel was alive—only stared ahead, frowning into the darkness. I didn’t know whether he was shocked or could feel the sand moving faster through the hourglass like I could, time slipping full tilt. Maybe he could sense the inferno under my skin, no longer simmering but roiling. I almost asked him, but then I thought,No. Let him be shielded. One of us should be.
***
Jamie woke me when the light was still dawn-bright. His face was grim, and I could tell he hadn’t slept. “I’m sorry,” he said, hovering. “But there’s a lot I didn’t say last night that I need to tell you now.”
I sat up, realizing I was in our hotel bed, still wearing my forest-ravaged dress. I tugged at my ripped pantyhose, peeling them off. “I’m awake,” I said, unfastening the pearl buttons down my chest. “Talk to me.”
He sat on the bed and looked at me cautiously, like I was a vase balancing on the edge of a table. “I didn’t want to tell you last night, but Dougie found Greg Ellworth. You were right. He lives in the city and used to work in finance, at a trading company called Culver Brown.”
“That’s good, right? We can give that to the governor with the recordings.”
Jamie swallowed. “The thing is…Greg Ellworth works in politics now.”
My fingers stilled over the buttons.
“He works for Governor Barry, Shay. He’s one of his campaign managers.”
Alec Barry, our ally. The man who would help us bring down the Paters and use that to fuel his reelection campaign. I blinked. “What does that mean?”
“I never thought—” Jamie’s hand moved over the sheets but stilled before it reached me. “I’m so sorry. I thought he was a good person. I never thought to look.”
“I don’t understand.”
His hand curled into a fist. “The governor’s throwing a big party tonight. He’s going to announce a major reform initiative, the cornerstone of his reelection campaign. Rumors are it’s this huge policy package, and it’s going to change everything—health care, education, law enforcement, on and on. Supposed to be some great model other states can copy. Press is invited, DNC bigwigs, the whole nine yards. He’s holding it at the home of one of his biggest donors. If it wasn’t for you, Dougie never would’ve looked at who that was.”
I heard Don’s voice, echoing from the floor above:I have good news. Everything’s ready.
“He goes by the name Nico Stagiritis,” Jamie said. “Does that mean anything to you?”
Nicole had said the Philosopher was Greek. And of course, who had Don admired more than the so-called fathers of Western thought? I remembered sitting at his feet in his library, memorizing details about the men he revered. “Aristotle was born in the town of Stagira. His father’s name was Nicomachus.”
“I’m certain,” Jamie said softly, “that Nico is Don.”
Don had given himself a name on par with Aristotle. Fashioning himself as a leader whose ideas would transform the world.
“That means—” Jamie started, but I was already there.
“The governor is a Pater.” In public, a celebrated progressive; in private, a man who harmed women. “No wonder they’re so brazen. Who would touch them, with the police and the governor—all of New York’s most powerful men—on their side?”Why should I be worried?the Incel had asked.Everyone we know is here.
“The governor’s also going to announce a task force that will lead the initiative,” Jamie said. “It’s a group of his top donors, including Nico. Dougie sent the list. There are a few names I recognize—Reginald Carruthers, Adam Dorsey, Angelo De Luca, Pastor Michael Corbin. Before he was a pastor, it turns out he served in the army.”
I thought of the Lieutenant’s ramrod posture, his militant alertness. “That makes sense.”
“But there are some names I don’t know.” Jamie pulled out his phone and showed me a picture from a browser search. “Scott Richards. Incarcerated on domestic assault charges twenty years ago, then got out and started a private prison company. Now he’s a Fortune 500 CEO.”
“The Disciple,” I said, looking at the shot of him, dressed up at some party. “Give me more.”
“There’s a Steven Tiller who works at Culver Brown, the trading company Greg Ellworth used to work for. Apparently, Tiller made a windfall off PrismTech stock right after the company announced it was moving to New York. I’d bet anything on insider trading, because the governor was the one who brokered the deal and authorized the Prism tax cuts. I bet that’s how they’ve built up so much wealth. They’re pulling strings for each other.”
“Tiller’s the Incel.” His greasy face stared back at me from the phone. I remembered what the guys had said the night of the party:The old guard hates him, no matter what he pulls with those tech tips.All of it was tying together, all our weeks of work. I could connect each face with a name.
“This initiative with the governor,” I said. “It has to be part of the Paters’ big plan, what Don’s been building to. Angelo mentioned a culture war, a way to put the Paters in control.”
“If Barry gets reelected and puts the Paters in power,” Jamie said, “they can roll back protections for women, stop access to health care, change what kids learn in school, create lesser punishments for abusers. The Paters are so good at twisting things, I’m sure they’d find a way to make people think it’s progressive. They could do so much damage.”
“What do we do? Who do we take our evidence to now?”
Weariness washed over Jamie’s face. He dropped his phone on the bed, shoulders slumping. “Not the state police… Word will go straight to Governor Barry. Maybe the FBI? There’s a field office in Albany. But Shay, the truth is, I don’t know if we can trust them. They’re in Albany, so what if Barry’s gotten to them? This is bigger than I thought. It’s like they’re everywhere.”
