The Power of Masks. Art Exhibition by Painter Meredith Fox in the Forum at Caesars Palace
However, just like that night in the tent, something irritated me as I leaf through the newspaper. Now that it’s light out, part of my consciousness has noticed. I flip back and spot it—the huge headline in the middle section literally jumps out at me.
Ben Adams: Robin Hood, David Copperfield, or John Doe? Who is the man who escaped everyone?
However, it’s not the headline that makes my mouth dry; it’s the hole in the middle of the newspaper. I notice the text appears to be complete, and I quickly scan the section transitions. There must have been a photo of him there.
And now it’s missing.
Chapter 24
As if out of nowhere, an image appears in front of me. I see River standing bolt upright on the rocking slackline, a butt between his thumb and forefinger. He squints at me through the cigarette smoke.Aren’t we all running from something?And then I hear him whisper,For you. To let fly!
My breath catches in my chest. The first origami crane was made from newspaper.
Why did River cut out this picture of all things? Is he Ben Adams, after all?
No, that’s bullshit! Arizona would have recognized him; she read the article out loud and apparently also saw a photo shortly before River ran into James’s car.
What if he looked different then?
For a moment, I forget to breathe, then gasp for air.
But what about the girls at the gas station? Nobody freaks out like that over a criminal.
Basically, I only have one choice. I need certainty so that I don’t freak out, but when I look at the dresser next to the door, I notice my cell phone is missing.
I glance at the bedside tables, but it’s not there. I frantically rummage through the bed, shaking out the blankets and pillows,and rummage through the backpack, but there’s no trace of my phone.
River must have taken it. There’s no other explanation. I stand in the middle of the room, my heart pounding.
“Damn it,” I whisper with a tight throat, wiping my forehead and looking around the room. There’s also no television or radio in this dive. However... there’s that ancient PC in the lobby! Naturally!
As I’m slipping on my flip-flops, the key turns in the lock.
“What’s going on?”
At first, I don’t even recognize the young man standing at the door. His long black hair falls over his shoulders, and he’s wearing the aviator sunglasses I bought for River. “Hey, it’s me!”
It’s the voice, thehey, that tells me it can only be River.
He’s wearing Western boots, leather pants, and a fringed shirt, looking like a cowboy who just went shopping—or at least, that’s what the two gigantic shopping bags in his hand look like.
This isn’t River McFarley,a voice inside me whispers. And he’s not just Tanner Davenport, either.Wordlessly, I hold up the page with the cut-out photo and swallow loudly.
“B-Ben A-A-dams?” It physically hurts me to say that. “O-or Ash-Asher?” I clench my fist tightly, digging my nails into my palm. I just want to fall back into my silence and the world of cotton wool—my insulation and protection. I want him to laugh and tell me how stupid both assumptions are.
River, however, just stares at me, his face drained of all color. In an unnervingly slow movement, he takes off his aviator sunglasses, and his eyes glow green, like mine.
“These are contact lenses,” he says quietly, without answering my question. “We were just going to be River and Tucks for a summer, weren’t we?” He comes toward me, and suddenly, my heart beats hard in my chest.
Contact lenses, of course!
“S-Say i-it!”
“You’ve known it for a long time.” He tries to smile but fails. “Tucks, I’m still the same. Let’s follow through. After all, we have a plan.” He points to the bags. “I also have a wig for you and something else to wear. Your mom’s opening is about to start. It’s invite-only, so I got us VIP passes. I’m afraid we can’t wait until she gets back to her hotel. You saw what was going on!” As if out of nowhere, he stretches two black cards dangling from silver keychains on his index finger toward me.Meredith Fox, it says on the card.
Everything sinks inside me. Trust, hope, courage. It’s like I’m falling endlessly into a black hole, suffocating.You’ve known for a long time. The girls at the gas station. Unnatural ice-blue eyes in a face made up of black and white makeup. A demon and a saint. And just because he doesn’t say it doesn’t make the truth any less painful. Just like anything you hold inside, it only makes the whole thing bigger and heavier.
