“I want you to talk to this agent, too.”
“Oh, fuck no.” I was fully returned now. “The whole reason I’m here instead of the hospital is that I wanted toavoidthe police. So why would I go to them now?”
“If they are trying to defraud your father, this is your best chance to help him.”
“But he’s a suspect.”
“Yes, and one of the prime suspects, I’d say. His name was on the lease and he was a primary shareholder. And if—” Erica cut herself off.
For a second, I peered at her, unable to figure out why. “Oh, no.”
“Louisa, I didn’t mean to suggest?—”
“No, no, NO.” I felt the blood drain from my face, struggling for any words that conveyed both “you’re wrong” and “fuck you for suggesting that” to someone I cared about as much as Erica. “You don’t understand. What he told Resi that he was trying to do to Daddy was alie. To get us out of there safely. He didn’tmeanit.”
“But how can you be sure he didn’t lead you right into that trap?”
“Because hedidn’t,” I shrieked. Automatically, we both glanced over at Alma, who had collapsed into the deep cushions and drifted off to sleep at some point in the last few minutes, her hand partially over her face. “He. Didn’t.” My heart was pounding as hard as if I myself were on trial. Reels of the past night flew by in a daze. What we’d said. What we’d done. What Resi had said about what we’d done.Tell me how much you loved watching her?—
“Lemaya did,” I burst out. “The same girl who gave Maeve the shit info that got you all almost caught.”
Erica stayed silent.
If I’d had the strength, I would have gotten up and hurled an antique glass swan across the room. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Not from you, of all people. You know him, Erica. We stayed in your—you let us—youtrusthim,” I finished helplessly. “You wouldn’t be helping him otherwise. Right?”
“My primary concern was Maeve and the other girls,” Erica said quietly, staring out into the distance as if there were anything—except for the stars—to be seen beyond the monotonous patchwork quilt of suburban lawns that pressed in on us.
I tried one more time. “Erica, he was conned. The same as we were. It was Lemaya.That’swhy they caught up with you. That’s why they chased you down, that’s why Maeve and Sloane were detained! To try to pin this on him is—is—what about Maeve? You said she was your primary concern. Are you going to look her in the face and say that about the brother that she’s spentyearstrying to fight her way back to?”
Erica continued in an even quieter voice. “Louisa, please calm down. I want to believe you. Idobelieve you. But not all slaves turn out to be heroes. Some of them have spent so longbeing oppressed and beaten down by the system that when they get a little power or freedom, they don’t know what to do with it.” She softened her voice further. “And then they make the wrong choice.”
And all at once, I felt myself spiraling back to that stifling mausoleum of a room; felt that lurch of panic deep in my chest, while all of my blisters cried out with the memory of what had made them, of the blue lightning zapping the very thoughts from my head, of being unable to scream, of being unable to—I desperately reminded myself to concentrate on my breathing, or IknewErica would make good on her threat to cut short the conversation. And then I wouldn’t get the chance to prove her wrong.
“That’s exactly whatshesaid. And that’s what she did.”
“Look, listen to me. It’s just another part of the terrible legacy of slavery, one all of us who’ve taken part in it, even involuntarily, have to eventually come to grips with. It’s not personal. It says nothing about him, or about you, or your relationship, or your judgment. It’s the system. But I would be remiss if I didn’t at least try to warn you that maybe he’s?—”
“No,” I cut in, and the fierceness in my voice seemed to hit Erica now, all at once. “He’s not her.”
“Louisa—”
“He’s not her.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, my voice ragged and raw. “I’m sorry about what happened. I am. I mean,lookat me.” I burst into tears again, gesturing down at my own body, unable to look at it myself. Honestly, I couldn’t contemplate looking at it fully ever again. “But he did not do this, and he did not say that. Resi did.”
The moment was cut short by a crash from beyond the circle of light on the veranda, followed immediately by crazed barking from Thalia, somewhere far away upstairs. I froze, then scrambled up from the sofa so quickly I almost knocked over thedelicately inlaid coffee table as it scraped against the aged floor tile. Fear rose in my throat and in my chest. The house was well-hidden from the road, but that didn’t mean Resi’s guys hadn’t found us; they knew far too much to be sure any hiding place would remain secure for long.
Erica followed my lead, the two of us flanking each other as we scanned the darkness outside. The crash had come from the direction of the garage, but it was impossible to be sure.
“Do you have a weapon?” Erica whispered, and her hand reached for something tucked into her waistband.Erica? Armed?Then again, she wasn’t some flower child. She was a former militant radical and had spent years as a fugitive. No telling what she’d had to teach herself during that time.
I shook my head.
Erica exhaled hard and drew something from under her sweater—a slim, fixed-blade knife in a black micarta sheath, clipped discreetly inside her waistband. Clearly used. She held it out to me. “Take it,” she said when I opened my mouth. “Don’t argue. Just keep it on you.” Her voice trembled slightly. “It’s not for show. If someone grabs you, you aim for soft spots and don’t stop.”
I took it, stunned, my fingers curling around the solid weight of it. This wasn’t Professor Muller. This was someone who’d learned exactly what the world could do to a girl without a weapon.
And so had I.
“Meanwhile,” she said, “I’m calling Agent Wheatley. Now.”
