“Mirana. I was thinking about her. About the blue penguin she carried around with her everywhere. I was wondering where it was and if she got to hold it when…when he…” I can’t breathe. I reach for my chest, which is tightening so I can’t breathe.
“It’s okay, Mary,” Tink says. “You can do this. When you have these memories, count backward from ten to one. Just focus on the numbers. Go on.”
“Now?” I say.
“Yes! Yes, now.”
“Okay.” I inhale. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.” I try to count slowly, to steady myself against the shivery feeling left in the wake of my memories.
“Good. You feel better?”
“Yes,” I say. “You know, I actually do.” And it’s true, something about reliving that day has made it seem less frightening and ominous.
“Can you go on? Tell me what happened next?”
I take one full breath, let my lungs fill, then empty completely. “Yes, I can.”
“Okay,” Dr. Tink says. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I sink back into the memory, and this time I have more distance from it, enough to feel safe like an observer in the room instead of the person it was happening to.
“I was thinking how strong my dad was. He could pick up a piano, so I didn’t understand how anyone could have done that to him. How could a single person have overpowered him and proven him fallible? It was almost impossible for me to conceive that could be the case. The detective held my hand and she looked me straight in the eye and she told me she was going to get the person who did this to my family, that the only reason the bad man had been able to do what he had was that my father was so sick. He wasn’t himself. He couldn’t have lifted a piano that day. She told me she was going to make sure the killer spent the rest of his life behind bars. She waited with me until Gia got here to pick me up. Here to the station. In this building. Everything happens here.”
My throat aches. I want to stop talking.
“And the detective.”
“Chief Ito.” I open my eyes and let the room come back into focus, the collection of tea and cookies in the corner, the books about getting the love you deserve, the row of succulents along the window with its shades drawn tight. “She wasn’t chief then,” I say. “My hand went from my mother’s to hers to Gia’s that day.”
“Yes.”
“The chief took care of me. And then there was the press conference when she found him. I presented her with the award in front of all those people.”
I hear the pop of flashes, see how they blinded me, how much I loved being center stage in front of all those people. It was the first time I thought, I want to do this.
“I was ten. I hid my face in the chief’s skirt. She kept me safe.” I pause. I did expect to be someone special to the chief, which is why the way she treated me yesterday offended me so much. I may have had no contact with her until recently, but I was there, orbiting around her, waiting for her to notice me. And then she did and it never ever occurred to me that once she turned her gaze my way she would retract it. I thought when she saw me and recognized my abilities I would be embraced, that we were connected, like I was some kind of surrogate daughter from afar or something. It’s such a joke. How many hundreds of kids has the chief helped by now? How many hands has she taken? How many eyes has she looked into and made promises? It’s her job. I’m only the most minor piece of it. I mean nothing to her.
Dr. Tink hands me a tissue, but I don’t need it. My heart is too heavy for tears.
“It took me a long time to realize what the chief said was true, that my dad had such a bad fever he was too weak to defend himself. And the man who did it. He didn’t even care. He didn’t feel anything. It was just another Legacy hate crime. He didn’t even think of my parents and my sister as people.” I look at Tink. “I never got to go back home. I know now it was such a bloodbath no one wanted me in there with the crime scene tape and the carnage. But I just wanted to go home. I always wanted to go home. And then I found James and Ursula, and Gia. It’s not the same as before, but it’s something. It’s some kind of home.”
Tink nods. “This is something we have to do in the face of tragedy. We can’t heal and be whole in the same way we were before the event, but we can build bridges over the gaps we have inside us.” Tink looks at the pad of paper on her lap, looks upward as though trying to find answers in the air above her head. “And how do you feel now, Mary Elizabeth?”
I think about this, about how honest to be. “I feel…furious. I feel vengeful. I feel like everything that’s happening and that’s been happening since I was born has been unjust and there needs to be justice.”
For a second I think I’ve said exactly the wrong thing and she will recommend a leave or another candidate for the internship, but she only nods.
“I know Ursula is missing,” she says, “and although I hear the circumstances are somewhat different from the case you’re working on, you believe there’s a connection.”
“Yeah.” A sob threatens to break through and I can’t let it because if I do, everything is going to come out and there’s too much. “Sometimes it feels like the world is ending,” I say, when I know I’m strong enough to speak. “Sometimes it feels like it’s been ending my whole life.”
She leans forward. “Say more about that.”
I struggle through my desire to clam up and look out her tenth-story window to the wide expanse of gray and the triangle of the building next door. “It seems like when magic died it took the soul out of everything, and now anything is possible and everything is happening. It’s like the whole world is being pulled into some kind of sinkhole.”
Tink taps her pen on her chin, her bright green eyes twinkling.
“I know that’s not what’s actually happening, but it feels like it. And so, yeah, Ursula is one small thing that makes me feel like the world isn’t going anywhere. Her disappearing just makes me feel like every crazy thought I have is true. I’ll sleep,” I say. “Whatever you want. But please make the recommendation for me to keep my internship. Please.”
Tink glances at her watch. This office is like a factory for disturbed cops. I’m sure she’s got more serious clients to see, people whose partners were killed in the line of duty or whatever.
She blinks. “Don’t you wish you could just believe and make it all okay? Wish on a star or clap your hands hard enough to put everything back where it should be? Ah, well. That’s not the world we live in, is it?” She sighs. “Still, I want you to promise to do it twice a day and to get a minimum of six hours of sleep. You must attend school and do what’s required there. And remember, any violent outbursts, lack of self-control, or further signs of stress and I’ll recommend you take a break.”
“Thank you! I’ll be so good. I’ll be excellent!”
“And, Mary? Just remember, sometimes extending a hand to someone can make a huge difference to them. When you’re always defending yourself from something you think is coming around the next corner, when you think the world is against you, there isn’t much of a chance for the good stuff to come through. It’s okay to be furious if your fury is aimed in the right direction. Just don’t let it eat up what’s soft in you.”
“Okay,” I say. “The universe is not my enemy despite all evidence to the contrary. Got it!”
She smiles, and scrawls her signature at the bottom of my assess-ment update.
“You did good work today, Mary Elizabeth. Deep work. Take care of yourself, and don’t do anything foolish.”
“I won’t.”
“And Mona told me to send you back in. I guess there’s been a report filed about Ursula, and Officers Colman and Mahony have been assigned to the case.” She watches as I absorb the news. Ursula is an official missing person now, and people are investigating it. Someone has been assigned to the case. It’s just not me. “Isn’t that good news?” she asks. “She’s being listed as a missing person. That means it’ll be investigated
.”
“Yes, it’s good.” Not as good as Ursula coming home. I shake off the hurt and jealousy, and worse, the knowledge that if this case is being investigated by a separate set of detectives, no one is seeing the connection I’m certain is there.
“Good,” she says. “Remember to do your work, your case, and to take care of yourself and stay out of danger.”
“I promise,” I say.
She gives me a warm handshake and I push back a twinge of guilt.
Even as I make the promise, I know it’s a lie.
TRANSCRIPT FROM THE RECORDED INTERVIEW OF MARY ELIZABETH HEART REGARDING THE CASE OF MISSING PERSON URSULA ATLANTICA
Interview taken by Detectives Colman and Mahony at Monarch City Main Precinct
Mahony: Mary Elizabeth, for the record, you are an intern here at Monarch Main Precinct and are currently on a case looking for the whereabouts of Mally Francine Saint?
Mary: That’s right.
Mahony: And you are a friend of Ursula Atlantica?
Mary: Yes.
Mahony: And can you tell us about your relationship to Ursula?
Mary: She’s my best friend.
Mahony: How long would you say she’s been your best friend?
Mary: I’ve known her since first grade, so eleven years. We met after the Great Death.
Mahony: And for the record, can you confirm you’re both Legacy?
Mary: Yes. Yes, we’re both Legacy.
Mahony: Can you tell us when you last saw Ursula?
Mary: Thursday afternoon.
Mahony: So that’s two days ago.
Mary: Yes.
Mahony: And where was she when you last saw her?
Mary: She was at my apartment. I left her there to go to my internship. She was going to go home to check on her mother and sister. I guess she never went.
Colman: We’re still waiting to obtain footage, but it seems Ursula went to Wonderland instead of going home as she told you she was going to. Can you explain why she might do that?
Mary: She could have been meeting someone?
Colman: Is that a question?
Mary: I don’t know. I don’t know what she could have been doing. I was working.
Mahony: What Colman is asking is if you know she was meeting someone that afternoon.
Mary (pause): No. I don’t know why she went to Wonderland.
Colman: And when you saw her last, did she seem depressed, distraught in any way?
Mary: No, just tired.
Colman: And is it true that your apartment is located next to Miracle Lake, a popular site for suicide?
Mary: She didn’t do that! She would never do that.
Mahony: Sorry. Sorry to upset you. It’s something we have to consider.
Colman: We need to ask you something and we’re hoping you’ll be honest. In conducting some interviews, we’ve found that Ursula had quite the side business, and it made her a few enemies. She was apparently blackmailing several of her teachers, the school principal, and the, uh, owner of the corner bodega. It’s been harder to gather information about this from kids your age. They get a little squirrely around us. So maybe you can tell us exactly what was going on with Ursula’s illegal activities.
Mary: I don’t know much. I never thought of it as illegal.
Colman: You thought blackmail was legal?
Mary: Well no, but…
Colman: Seems like maybe plenty of people would have benefited from having her gone.
Mary: No, everyone loves her.
Mahony: I’m afraid that’s not so. Not so at all.
Mary (hesitant): I don’t know anything.
Colman: And your boyfriend?
Mary: What about him?
Colman: No, nothing. Just his father.
Mahony: Nothing we need to discuss at the moment. Here’s my card. Just make sure you stay in touch. I know you’ll do the right thing if you hear of anything.
Colman: And if you don’t do the right thing, it’s not only a breach of your contract with this precinct, it’s obstruction of justice.
Mary: Can I go?
Colman: Please do.
Mahony: Stay in touch, Miss Heart.
“THEY WERE AWFUL, JAMES. COLMAN AND MAHONY. They asked all these questions and you could tell they were anti-Legacy and they made Ursula sound like she was totally worthless and it was to be expected she’d be kidnapped or taken out or something. They made it sound like it was her own fault.” James and I are roaming in his car, looking for signs of Ursula while the boys keep their eyes out at Wonderland. I can’t go there and face Dally and all his prying questions, especially when I don’t have any answers for him. I don’t know where Mally is. I don’t know where Ursula is. I know nothing.
After my epic meltdown in front of the chief yesterday, Bella let me off the hook for casework today while she did some digging into the Mally Saint case. But I can’t just take the rest of the day off. I’m too restless.
James pulls over in front of Mally’s apartment building. The birds are flying overhead against the night, and a cornmeal-yellow light can be seen upstairs in Jack Saint’s apartment. I hope he’s having a better time up there than I’m having down here.
We get out and sit on the hood of the car.
“Come here,” James says.
I scoot into him and we sit for a few minutes, both of us distracted by our rushing minds.
“James,” I say.
“Yeah?”
I want to ask him about the blue light. It’s been hanging between us since Wednesday night, and ever since then life seems to have accelerated so there hasn’t even been time to talk about something that has to be monumentally important. Ever since we were little, James has been saying he would find a way to bring magic back, that he would use his intuition to do it. He may not officially be a Magicalist, but he has the same ideas. Magic is dormant and, like oil or any other natural resource, can be harvested if it can be found. And now it seems like he’s found it. That’s huge.
James draws me in closer. “You want me to tell you everything?”
“I don’t know, do I? We’ve never kept secrets from each other before.”
“If I told you everything, you would wish I hadn’t. There’s a mandatory reporting law for anything even remotely magical in the Scar, and you’re a cop. I’m not going to say anything else.” He peers around us at the empty street. “It’s up to you, Mary. If you want me to tell you everything, I’ll tell you. But I won’t be able to take it back once I do.”
Being away from James is hard. Going to work, not knowing what he’s doing with his boys, what they’re up to, if they’re doing something dangerous. But being close to him is hard, too—looking into his brown eyes, those long lashes, not having the words to tell him he’s the only thing I have left other than a dream to make this city into something we can both live with.
“No,” I say. “Don’t tell me. Not yet. But I do have something.” I pull out Mally’s bracelet and hand it to James. “It’s Mally’s. I thought maybe you could help me. Use your intuition, maybe your blue light? I have this, too.” I pull the ring from my finger. “It used to be Ursula’s. Do you think you might be able to find them with these?”
“I have no idea, but I’ll see what I can do.”
My thoughts turn back to Ursula. Those cops don’t care about her. I need to go to her house, find her naughty list, talk to Morgana and their mother. I need to see what I can find in her room, something those moron detectives might have missed. I’m forbidden from it officially, but no one can stop me from going to my best friend’s house for a visit.
“Hey,” James says. “It’s going to be okay. It’s the worst not knowing where she is, but I think she’s all right.”
“Think?”
“I would feel it.”
I would feel it, too. I know what he’s saying is true.
“Maybe my Trace will send me another dream.”
“Maybe,” James says with a yawn. “We’ll find
her.”
There’s a loud caw and the swirl of feathers as Hellion lands on the lamppost next to us.
“What is that?” James says. “Is that Mally’s bird?”
I recognize Hellion by his ruff, and he looks right at me and lets out an angry accusatory cry. “What do you want, bird?”
He makes a series of nattering noises.
“You go look for her,” I say.
He tilts his head to one side.
“I can’t find her, so you go.” This is ridiculous, I know. This bird can’t understand what I’m saying. At least I don’t think he can. The way he’s looking at me I’m not so sure. “Go find Mally and bring her home.”
He lets out a long, loud caw and then disappears into the night in a fury of flapping wings.
James lets out a soft, incredulous laugh. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that bird is following your instructions.”
“Don’t judge me,” I say. “Those Midcity morons aren’t going to find Ursula, and apparently I’m not going to find Mally, either. Hellion has as good a chance as anyone else.”
I remember the chief’s warning and Bella’s words about staying in my lane. This is the most I can do for my best friend and it doesn’t feel like nearly enough.
All I can do is sit on the hood of a car staring into darkness, hoping Ursula will emerge from it and come home to me.
Monday morning when James picks me up for school, Smee climbs into the backseat without any complaint or whining, a sign of just how low everyone is feeling. When we get into the usually loud and chaotic hallway at Monarch High, it’s silent. There’s no fighting and no bickering or banter. Dreena is wearing a black armband and waves to me mournfully. Stone plucks out a disjointed tune on his bass. It’s like Ursula and Mally were two forces of nature giving all of us energy or something to watch or push against, and now there’s nothing but a void.
It’s torture. No Mally. No Ursula. A profound sense of unrest fills the hallway. Legacies aren’t being their usual boisterous selves, and the Narrows skulk around the halls looking paranoid and ready for a fight.
In History we all shuffle into our groups, but without Ursula in the room, it feels cavernous and too quiet. No one says anything to me, but I can feel myself being watched, especially by Lucas, but even he doesn’t have anything to say.
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