“They—they told me I’ve been sold. To whom?”
I swallowed and took a deep breath. “The man who bought you is here with me… and he’s a friend,” I finished, with a quick glance at Max, who shook his head and frantically waved away the camera. “Of your brother’s. And of mine. And—and of Erica’s,” I added, glancing quickly at my unsmiling professor, from whose direction I could practically hear crickets chirping.
“You’ll meet him soon,” I explained. “Anyway, he bought you to free you. And he will.”
Max nodded seriously.
“Louisa?”
“Huh?”
“I am sorry,” Maeve said in English. “Lemaya said—elle m’a dit—” She switched to French again, flustered.
And that’s when I remembered my own face was as fucked up as Maeve’s was, maybe more. And Maeve had been looking at it this entire time. But oh, no. No sorries. It had only been thanks to Maeve that the girls had escaped at all.
“No, Maeve. Don’t apologize, ever. You were brave. Just like your brother.”
“Don’t worry, Louisa,” Maeve replied in English, much to my surprise. “It’s just another part of the story,” she continued in French. “And it isn’t always one we want. But—you can make up your own story, one that’s much happier. And then no one can take it away from you.”
“If it’s up to me, you won’t have to make up your happy ending, Maeve. You’ll have a real one.”
When the call ended, Max peered at me through the rearview mirror, and I removed the crumpled envelope from inside my hoodie. I’d made a cursory glimpse into the rest of its contents, which, aside from the chip and the money, I didn’t fully understand. But if he’d gone through this much effort to get them to me, they were undoubtedly important. “I can confidently say I think you’re the only one besides me that he’d trust with this,” I said, handing it to my professor, who tucked it safely in the backpack she carried and instructed us to let Obadiah back in, then let her off at a gas station down the block.
“Wait. What about everyone at Ivy’s? Wheatley?—”
“He’s managed to keep a protective unit at Ivy’s, with the help of a friend on the city police. But to no one’s surprise, the director suspended him,” said Erica, holding up the envelope. “But if my suspicions are correct, whatever’s in here may help undo that. And I don’t want to make any guarantees, but it might help your father, too.”
I nodded. That’s what I’d hoped all along was part of his plan.
“And as for the person wholeftme that envelope? Has he earned your trust?” I asked, remembering what Erica had insinuated earlier.
Erica smiled.
But before she could respond, Max broke in. “Much as I’d like to, I’m afraid I won’t be sticking around to wait for the cops to figure out just who they’re going to arrest. Which is why I’llbe headed south of the border as soon as we finish this job. Assuming I can find a plane to borrow, since mine’s indisposed.”
I gasped. “But what about us? You can’t just?—”
“Holdona second. Fuck me, you really are his girl, aren’t you? What I was going to say is that it’s an open invitation. There’ll be four of us.”
“Four of us?”
“Me. And Maeve,” he said. “And once we find him, your boy…ourboy.” He paused and looked at me seriously from behind those glacier-colored eyes, every trace of irreverence out of his voice. “And you.”
What he was proposing, of course, to me, was everything.My heart soared, then dropped as if someone had replaced a feather with a cold, heavy stone. “I’d never be able to come back.”
“Well, not until slavery’s abolished, probably. But you’d be with him. And he’d be with his sister. And I’d be there to take care of all of you. Don’t worry, not all the time,” he clarified. “I mean, you are adults and all.”
Seize it,my instincts said.Seize it while you can.
But what aboutmydreams? What about my parents, and med school, and my career, and Erica and Milagros, and Ethan? I might never see him again.
You didn’t get a choice, any more than I did.
My boy had been right about that. Thoseweren’tmy dreams, and that wasn’t my life. Until recently, the only dreams I’d ever chosen were the ones already on offer in my gilded cage, and that wasn’t a choice at all. In fact, the onlyrealchoice I’devermade was to break out. He’d shown me the path. It was the hardest path, and he hadn’t made me take it. He hadn’texpectedme to take it.
But I had. And there was already no going back. Except?—
“No,” I mumbled.
