by J. A. Huss
The world is bigger than me.
That's what Renn taught me after the parents died. The world is bigger than me and not everyone cares that I'm sad. Life goes on and I have to move on with it, because the shit's gotta get done. Sean loves his new family. Frank needs that new family. You need us, Renn said. We need you. We need each other, because the world is bigger than us. And we only have each other to count on.
"Fiona was here…" The words trail off and I can't say anything else because that lump in my throat is back. It's like a rock, it hurts so bad.
Renn puts his arm around me and shakes me a little. "I know, bro. I know. The FBI are at the house right now. They never left the Sullivan farm yesterday. They've been looking for you, they want to talk to you. But Frank told them to wait until I got home before they tried."
I look at my brother and nod as I try to swallow the rock. "It was her, Renn. I know it was her."
He nods. "That's what they're saying back at the house, too. It's her all right. They're not sure what's going on just yet, but they think you can help them."
I pull my phone out of my pants and clear the ten billion missed messages on my home screen, then find the picture. I hold it out to Renn and he takes it to look closer.
"God yes, that's her."
He hands it back and I stare at our faces in the moonlight. Her eyes are the color of moonlight. "I feel…" I look up at him and shake my head. "I feel worse than when the parents died, Renn. It's like all those years of struggling are back, it's like all those years of coping are gone. I'm not sure what to do."
He gets to his feet and pulls me up. "Well, I guess that's what the fucking FBI is for, right? I suppose they've got a plan, so why don't we just go listen to them and see what's up?"
When we push through the overgrown brush and come out into our less overgrown yard, the silver filly is there, snorting in the morning mist. "I see this girl is still hanging around," Renn laughs. The sound of his voice spooks her and she pivots and disappears into the woods.
"She's like a ghost." Like a ghost of Fiona, I don't add.
The entire driveway is filled with cars even though my phone says it's barely nine in the morning. I was out there all night and never even noticed.
But I'm fucking exhausted.
The FBI guys from yesterday approaches Renn and I as we make our way to the house. Sean is there and so is Frank. "Were they here when you got home?" I ask.
"No, I came home and then Case and Park filled me in, then I called Sean, and then they all just appeared."
The oldest FBI guy from yesterday strides up to us with the confidence only a government agent has. It annoys me, but I push that aside and accept his offer of a handshake.
"Brody Mason, I'm Agent Barker, I've been in charge of the Fiona Sullivan case since she was taken twelve years ago. We think you may be able to help us." He stops here and removes the dark glasses, which are unnecessary anyway, since it's foggy out. "We think you can help us bring her back home."
My heart almost stops.
"But… she's his daughter."
"Yes, well, we're not entirely sure of that, we're not sure what to make of the DNA tests." He shrugs. "But we have a hunch and we'd like to act on it. But we need more information about where her permanent home might be, and your little brother told us that she has your phone?"
I have to breathe out very slowly to stop my heart from jacking itself right out of my chest. Holy fuck. She has my phone. "Did you call it?"
"No, we only have one chance to make contact, and we can't attempt to do that until we have everything in place. Do you have anything, anything you can recall about where she said she might've been? Mr. Sullivan recalled a conversation about a school in Australia, but he can't remember the specifics. Did she share that with you?"
"No, she never mentioned specific schools to me," I say. Barker lets out a heavy sigh. "But she actually did tell me where she lives."
Barker smiles. "She did not."
"Well, she hinted around it. It's a private island in the South Pacific, she said it was near Bora Bora, and sometimes her and her mom would go to Bora Bora Four Seasons Hotel for dinner. They have a helicopter, and there's a main island nearby where they keep a jet, and…"
I talk, I spill everything, I recall every single detail. I tell them about the weapons guarding the island, and the color of the sand and the water. I talk about the blog and her well-traveled feet. And then I tell them she used our computer yesterday and she logged into her Facebook and blog accounts.
Sean joins us and tell them about the satellite phone number, the pay phone where they made the call, and then Frank and Aimee tell him about a show pony named Roller Skates at the school in Australia.
Collectively, Fiona has told us everything we need to know to track her down.
We go back inside and I open the laptop. Her account comes right up, she never even logged out. Not out of Facebook, and not out of her blog. There are no new messages, but it doesn't matter, they say. We have three ways to contact her now. The blog, the Facebook account, and the phone—because before that phone was mine, it was Renn's, and Renn always gets an international phone for work trips.
It's late afternoon before we are all out of words and everyone is exhausted. The FBI hole up over at Frank's house and the brothers and I head to our beds. It's been one insane day, that's for sure. One for the books, as Fiona would say.
But we have a plan.
I lie down in bed, looking at my old yearbook. I'm holding her hand in that picture.
I'm still holding it right now.
And I will never let her go.
Chapter Thirty-Seven - Faina
Nicolae leans down after my dad releases Brody and whispers into my ear in Romanian, "If you look back, the cameras will see your face, Faina. And your father will know you like that boy."
I nod, not really sure why I'm nodding, not even sure what that last remark even means, but I nod anyway because I can take a good guess. Nic takes my hand and leads me to the car and I get in. I do not look back until we're inside and I'm hidden from the cameras by the dark tinted glass.
Nic urges me to sit down properly but I ignore him, because all I see is Frank, and Sean, and Brody.
That, I tell myself. That look. Those three looks on those three faces. That's what heartbreak looks like.
My dad gets in and hugs me tightly. "It's over now, Faina. It's over now. We're going home."
I'm not even sure what to feel, let alone what to do right now. So I just say nothing.
"Are you OK?" my dad asks.
I look over at Nic and then my dad. I shake my head. "No, I think I need to go back and say something to them, Dad. I should say something to them."
"No, Faina, you don't owe them anything. Nic, scare that boy behind us, make him stop following."
I turn as Nic grabs a rifle from the floor, then pops his head out of the sunroof.
I sit up on my knees to watch.
Brody is behind us, following the car. But the rifle stops him. We turn right at the end of the driveway and I keep watching as Nic comes back inside and tucks the gun away on the floor. Brody hesitates at the Sullivan gate, then turns and rides off in the opposite direction.
I sit back down and my dad hugs me again.
"They stole you, they ruined your summer, they ruined your college opportunity, your whole life has been upended because of those people. We're going home, you're staying put until we can smooth this over, and then we'll talk about what to do next. About your future."
He gives Nic a look when he says this and I turn to look at him as well. "What?"
"Nic is going to stay with you now. Twenty-four-seven guard, that's what you need. This was too close, you need a guard."
The AC is on high, blasting an Arctic wind out at me as the trees pass us by. I look out the side window and my whole body starts to shiver uncontrollably. My dad hugs me again, then drapes his suit coat over my arms and legs. It smells like him a
nd I breathe it in and pull it up to my neck.
"We'll be home soon, don't worry. Sophia is waiting at the airport, you'll be better soon."
I should be happy, I should be relieved, I should be comforted by my dad's embrace. That Nic is next to me, that they'll take care of me. That Sophia is waiting to take me in her arms and smooth it all over. Make it all go away.
But I simply sit there next to my dad and shake under his coat.
I have never minded being treated this way, coddled and fussed over, but it's only taken a few days of total trust and freedom in Frank's house to make me wonder about it. I like rules. I like knowing what I can do and what I can't. I like knowing where the boundaries are. But I like the trust the Sullivans gave me too.
So I wonder.
What does a life without these confining walls look like?
It was easy to imagine things with Brody because he was so sure of himself. He was sure of his love for Fiona and he was sure that I was her.
What must he think? What must they all think of me right now? That I lied?
I try and hold back a little sob but it slips out.
"Faina, please," my dad begs as he pulls me to his chest. "Just relax, OK?"
But I can't relax, I shiver and maybe it's a little cold in here, but that's not why I'm shaking. I shake because now they know.
I am not Fiona Sullivan.
I was never Fiona Sullivan.
I've never been anyone but Faina Saburov.
I'm not one hundred percent sure what my father does, but it's important. He's important. He… runs things. He has a lot of money, he has a car with Romanian flags on it, declaring us to be official representatives of this country, but we are not even from Romania, let alone diplomats.
My dad lifts me off his chest and hands me over to Nic and his arms close around me, like they've been doing since I was a small girl. Whenever things go wrong, it's always been Nicolae who rescues me. This is the first time my dad has ever been required to fix things.
It's a very big deal. And the favors required to secure this car with the little flags must've been huge.
After I'm settled against Nic's body my dad leans over and kisses my head. Then the phone comes out and he's talking in Russian.
I have never been taught Russian, I was taught Romanian instead, but I understand the Russian just as well as any of the other seven languages I've become fluent in. My dad does not know this, otherwise he wouldn't talk business in front of me. But Nic does, and he starts humming a popular Fijian song close to my ear, to drown out the Russian words, maybe? Or maybe he's just trying to soothe me with thoughts of home? I give in and let my mind wander away from my dad's conversation.
The day had started out fine. Chores with Aimee, then breakfast. Everyone had been so excited. We all got our assignments. Frank wanted me to stay out of the crowds, so he put me in the shaved ice truck with the twins. And that went fine too. At first there was no one, since it was early and still fairly cool. But as soon as lunch time had rolled around the shaved ice truck line had been massive. It had taken us a while to figure out they were there to get a look at me. Then the TV cameras had showed up and I started to panic.
How safe is it? I wondered. To be on TV?
Not very.
Nic is still humming, a new tune now, another pop song. He knows I like them.
I hug him tighter, to try and hold on to the old me, because I feel her slipping. Just like all the other identities do when the lies fall apart.
I'm not even sure if it's possible to save the old me now anyway, but losing her, losing Faina here in this car while I sit next to my dad—who just risked his job, his rank, his safety, his freedom, his life… to come save me—is out of the question.
We end up at a small airport. The car drives right out onto the tarmac next to the jet.
Sophia is sprinting towards us in her high heels and the car has to stop short to miss running her over. She yanks the door open, talking frantically, and then Nicolae swings me over his body like a toy and sets me on the ground. She's still talking but I cannot understand anything because she's hugging me so close to her body her voice becomes muffled, so nothing makes any sense.
This is it. I'm leaving this place. I am leaving Frank and Sean. I am leaving Aimee and Lindsey. I'm leaving Angela and the twins. I'm leaving Sweetness and I'm leaving Brody.
I'm leaving America and I'm not coming back.
I am ushered into the plane and then I walk to the far end to find the bed.
Sophia and I lie down together and cling to each other and cry. Hers, tears of happiness. Mine, tears of regret.
Chapter Thirty-Eight - Faina
We stop once to refuel the charter jet. I don't even take the energy to find out what city it is—all I know is that we're heading west and we're in front of the sun. I feel like I'm trying to outrun the sun, because if it sets, this day is over and it becomes official. I fall asleep with that thought after we board our own jet in LA and I dream that we fly west forever. We circle the Earth, outrunning the setting sun, so the day never ends.
Of course, there's that little thing called the International Date Line and as soon as we pass it and land at Nadi International on Fiji's largest island, the new day is well on its way and the worst day of my life is almost yesterday's yesterday. I walk down the stairs of the jet and breathe in the heavy tropical air. An air-conditioned car drives us a half mile down the road to a small building near the helicopter where a customs agent meets us and checks our passports. It's a formality. My dad could hand over any passport and they'd be happy.
Two of the agents call me by name and ask me how I'm doing. Of course they call me Filia, because that's my name here. Apparently the Cleveland News doesn't reach to Fiji. They have no idea that I was being held in America. One says I look tired after I come out of the bathroom, and Nic interrupts him and shuffles me over to the waiting area and sits me down in a plush red chair that faces another helipad.
"Are you hungry, Filia?" Nic asks me in Romanian.
"Yes," I say, because I am. "But I'd like to wait until we get home."
He nods and walks off to talk to my father and Sophia slips into the chair across from me. "You need to sleep. And get out of those clothes."
I say nothing. I don't know what to say.
"We're calling doctors in, Fee. Someone you can talk to about what happened. You need someone to talk to."
"He should've let me say goodbye," I say to the window. "I should've been allowed to say goodbye."
"Fee, you are not that girl, you have to accept that."
"I know," I say to placate her and then let out a long sigh. "I'm just spinning, Sophia. My world is spinning. I'm not sure what I feel right now, I just know I don't want to share it with you, or Dad, or counselors who want me to talk about it until it's meaningless. Because…" I look over and find my dad before I say the rest. "If you want me to be truthful, I'm going to miss those people."
"Just give it time, sweetie." She reaches over and takes my hands in hers and gives them a little squeeze.
I count the seconds and when I get to five, I pull my hands back. I've already lost the battle with time, I want to say. I've lost that day, as well as the one in between now and then. It's a trick, I was tricked into another tomorrow as we crossed the ocean.
Luckily I say none of this out loud because she'd probably cart me right over to the hospital. I just say, "Yeah, time. I just need time."
But all I can think of is Brody and the time that passed between the day he learned about Fiona going missing and the day he learned about Fiona coming home. How is he dealing with the time that has passed since my dad stole me off the Sullivan farm?
"What are we waiting for?" I finally ask a question about what's going on around me. Not that I care really, I just want to know how many minutes it will be before I can go into my room and close the door and empty my pockets. I have three secrets in my pockets, and I desperately want to take them out and look at
them.
"Here we go, they're ready," Sophia says.
My dad grabs Sophie's hand and Nicolae grabs mine and we walk across the polished tile floor to the opposite side of the building where our pad is located. I duck as I pass under the rotating blades, then get in and buckle myself up. Nic turns after he's buckled to check me, then gives me a thumbs-up.
It's a thirty-minute 'copter ride to our island, and forty minutes later I'm finally in my room.
I have lived in this room for as long as I can remember. Right now the foldaway doors that lead to the beach are open, so one entire wall is nothing but air. The sheer white curtains blow in the almost constant tropical breeze that crosses our island, and I can feel sandy grains between my now bare feet and the polished tile floor.
My bed faces the open wall, which looks out on my own private white-sand beach, so if the doors and curtains are open, the first thing I see when I wake up is paradise. The water varies between a turquoise blue to a light green that is almost too beautiful to describe with words. The boardwalk at the bottom of my ground-floor terrace steps takes me right to the water and I can end all my days falling asleep to the rhythmic crashing of waves if I want.
But, as ironic as this sounds, I don't care for the breeze or the wafting sand that finds its way into my room and under my feet. So I fold the doors closed, pull the sheer curtains, pull the blackout curtains, and switch on the air conditioner.
This is how I prefer my paradise right now, thank you. Dark and cool.
I reach into my pocket and pull out my three secrets.
Brody's phone and the two nameplates that say Sweetness.
Last week was a dream. That's what Nic kept telling me whenever he could find me alone on the jet. It was a dream, Faina, just wake up now.
But I had the proof in my pocket. It took every ounce of willpower not to rub the nameplates together in front of them. It took even more not to turn Brody's phone on and look at the picture we took on the beach, but I did turn it on once. Just once when we got to Nadi and I went to the bathroom alone.