Chapter 13 - The Man I Still Had Reasons to Hate
Marcus survived.
Barely.
The bullet passed through his shoulder and collapsed part of his lung.
While medics worked on him, he grabbed my sleeve.
“Get Lily.”
“I will.”
“Don’t let Rachel…”
He could not finish.
His wife stood ten feet away crying into both hands.
Marcus looked at her.
Not angry.
Destroyed.
Then his eyes returned to me.
“I meant what I said on the lawn.”
I stared at him.
What kind of confession was that?
“I really did think you were weak.”
“I know.”
“I liked thinking that.”
I knew that too.
“Why?”
His eyes filled.
“Because everyone in my family made me feel small.”
There was the boy beneath the bully.
Not an excuse.
An explanation.
Warren mocked him.
Anne vanished.
Rachel quietly despised him.
Marcus built muscles, money and aggression around a wound he never examined.
Then used that wound against other people.
“I’m sorry Lily saw me become that.”
“So am I.”
“Do you forgive me?”
“No.”
He nodded.
Good.
He finally understood apology was not a transaction.
Miriam escaped during the shooting.
Ward pursued her but returned when he realized she wanted exactly that—to split us.
We located Lily through the transmitter hidden in her rabbit.
The bug we had thought belonged to the conspiracy had originally been placed by Rachel.
But Lily had moved it herself into her dress pocket before being taken.
My daughter had watched enough.
“She’s clever,” Ward said.
“She’s eleven.”
“Both can be true.”
The signal led to an abandoned federal records facility.
Of course.
The place where obsolete government secrets went to be forgotten.
Inside, Lily sat alone in a locked office.
No guards.
No Miriam.
I opened the door.
She threw herself into me.
“Mom.”
“I’ve got you.”
“I knew you would.”
Then she whispered:
“She wanted me to tell you something.”
“What?”
“She said you’d open the archive after this.”
“No.”
Lily frowned.
“She said you would because now you’ll think it’s the only way to find her.”
Miriam still expected me to behave predictably.
Ward arrived behind us.
“We should open it.”
There.
Exactly what Miriam wanted.
Nadia agreed.
Rachel too.
Even Warren, from his hospital bed over a secure call, said the ledger was our only chance.
Everyone pushing me toward one door.
That usually means someone designed the hallway.
“No.”
Ward stared.
“Claire.”
“We don’t open it.”
“Then Miriam wins.”
“No. We stop playing her game.”
I looked at Lily.
“What did she ask you while you were here?”
“Questions.”
“What kind?”
“About the garage. The duffel. Your jacket.”
Specific physical details.
Not archive details.
Then I understood.
Miriam did not need the archive opened.
She needed us to believe she did.
The actual target had been in front of us since the barbecue.
The green duffel.
I called Devon.
“Where’s the bag?”
Silence.
May you like
Then:
“Major… Warren’s garage is on fire.”
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