I had to accept that I would never see Edythe again. Not even one last look at her face to take with me to the mirror room. I was going to hurt her, and I couldn’t say goodbye. It was like being tortured. I burned in it for a minute, let it break me. And then I had to pull my shell together to go face Archie.
The only expression I could manage was a blank, dead look, but I felt like that was understandable. I walked into the living room, my script ready to go.
Archie was bent over the desk, gripping the edge with two hands. His face—
At first the panic broke through my mask, and I jumped around the couch to get to him. While I was still in motion, I realized what he must be seeing. It brought me up short a few feet away from him.
“Archie,” I said dully.
He didn’t react when I called his name. His head rocked slowly from side to side. His expression brought the panic back again—maybe this wasn’t about me, maybe he was watching my mother.
I took another step forward, reaching out to touch his arm.
“Archie!” Jessamine’s voice whipped from the door, and then she was right behind Archie, her hands curling over his, loosening them from their grip on the table. Across the room, the door swung shut with a low click.
“What is it?” she demanded. “What did you see?”
He turned his empty face away from me, looking blindly into Jessamine’s eyes.
“Beau,” he said.
“I’m right here.”
His head twisted, his eyes locked on mine, their expression still blank. I realized that he hadn’t been speaking to me—he’d been answering Jessamine’s question.
22. HIDE-AND-SEEK
“WHAT WAS IT?” I’D LOST CONTROL OF MY VOICE—IT WAS FLAT, UNCARING.
Jessamine stared at me. I kept my expression vacant and waited. Her eyes flickered between Archie’s face and mine, feeling the chaos. I knew what Archie had seen.
A peaceful atmosphere settled around me. I didn’t fight it. I used it to keep my emotions under control.
Archie recovered, too. His face snapped back to its normal expression.
“Nothing,” he said, his voice amazingly calm and convincing. “Just the same room as before.” He looked at me, focusing for the first time. “Did you want breakfast?”
“I’ll eat at the airport.” I was calm, too. Almost like I was borrowing Jessamine’s extra sense, I could feel Archie’s well-concealed desperation to get me out of the room, so that he could be alone with her. So he could tell her that they were doing something wrong, that they were going to fail.
Archie was still focused on me.
“Is your mother all right?”
I had to swallow back a throatful of bile. I could only follow the script I’d planned earlier.
“My mom was worried,” I said in a monotone voice. “She wanted to come home. It’s okay. I convinced her to stay in Florida for now.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes,” I agreed robotically.
I turned and walked slowly to the bedroom, feeling their eyes following the whole way. I shut the door behind me, and then I did what I could. I showered and got dressed in clothes that fit me. I dug through the duffel bag until I found my sock full of money—I emptied it into my pocket.
I stood there for a minute, staring at nothing, trying to think of things I was allowed to think about. I came up with one idea.
I knelt by the little bedside table and opened the top drawer. Underneath the complimentary copy of the Bible, there was a stash of stationery and a pen. I took a sheet of paper and an envelope out of the drawer.
“Edythe,” I wrote. My hand was shaking. The letters were barely legible.
I love you.
Sorry—again. So sorry.
She has my mom, and I have to try. I know it may not work. I am so very, very sorry.
Don’t be mad at Archie and Jessamine. If I get away from them it will be a miracle. Tell them thank you for me. Archie especially.
And please, please don’t come after her. That’s what she wants. I can’t stand it if anyone else has to be hurt because of me, especially you. Please, this is the only thing I can ask you now. For me.
I’m not sorry that I met you. I’ll never be sorry that I love you.
Forgive me.
Beau.
I folded the paper into thirds, and then sealed it into the envelope. Eventually she would find it. I hoped she would understand. I hoped she would forgive. And most of all, I hoped she would listen.
When I walked back out to the living room, they were ready.
I sat alone this time in the back of the car. Jessamine kept shooting glances at me in the mirror when she thought I wouldn’t notice. She kept me calm, which I appreciated.
Archie leaned against the passenger door, his face pointed at Jessamine, but I knew he was watching me in his peripheral vision. How much had he seen? Was he expecting me to try something? Or was he focused on the tracker’s moves?
“Archie?” I asked.
He was wary. “Yes?”
“I wrote a note for my mom,” I said slowly. “Would you give it to her? Leave it at the house, I mean?”
“Of course, Beau.” His voice was careful—the way you spoke to someone standing on a ledge. They could both see me coming apart. I had to control myself better.
We got to the airport quickly. Jessamine parked in the center of the garage’s fourth floor; the sun couldn’t reach this deep into the concrete block. We never had to leave the shadows as we made our way to the terminal. It was terminal four, the biggest one, the most confusing. Maybe that would help.