Select

by Marit Weisenberg

In the back of my mind, I thought about Angus and Liv, and I knew I would never stop. I was worried about Angus, and I wondered if and when I’d ever find him. I told John I wouldn’t stop searching, much to his annoyance. I couldn’t read John’s mind and wasn’t sure if I ever would be able to again, but I could sense his resentment and fear when he thought of me finding Angus, my last connection to what I’d given up.

  I was also anxious about Liv. Whether it was rational or not, I knew a part of me would forever feel selfish for choosing myself over her. The two people she loved most were on the outside now.

  We had stayed up all night. It felt so good to tell John about the edge I’d been living on these past months, explaining more about myself and why I’d acted the way I had. I told him about Angus’s family and about my mother. I also told him it was wise to have a healthy dose of paranoia, because the police and the FBI were probably watching me. I was sure that at any time now I would be questioned about everything I knew. And by association John would be as well. Just like the day we met and he found himself at the police station. Over and over again he assured me I was worth it.

  I had held back a few things. I would never speak a word of any details I knew about Relocation. It wasn’t worth the risk for him or them. I had heard the threats Novak had made to Lati, but mainly I would stay silent for the rest of my life to protect my sister and my friends.

  I’d also decided not to tell John how he appeared in Novak’s vision. There was no need to burden him like that. It was done. I wanted to put behind me that John had ever been in danger and that he had any connection to us.

  I saw the manila envelope on my desk at the same time John did. My name was scrawled in Victoria’s handwriting.

  “Will you open it?” I asked. My nerves were getting the best of me now that it looked like I was safe.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, go ahead. They would never leave me a personal note.”

  John opened the envelope and took out a set of documents. After a minute of scanning them, he started laughing.

  “What?” I crossed over to him and gently laid my hand on his arm, peering at the thick stack he held in his hand.

  “You won’t need to worry about getting a scholarship. You can officially pay for college.” It was an irrevocable trust. The house was in my name, as well as multiple other properties and assets, making them safe from being seized and frozen. There was another envelope as well. It was full of cash. John handed that to me before he put the papers back in the envelope, threw the envelope on the desk, and turned to face me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, it’s just weird, that’s all. That envelope is the last I’ll hear from them. It’s the last thing I have that they touched. I’m free.”

  I put my arms around his neck and leaned back, gazing up at him. I couldn’t believe he was mine. I couldn’t stop looking at him or touching him.

  “You really think you can get into Stanford?” he teased.

  “I don’t know. I may need to try Berkeley. Maybe we need a bridge between us,” I joked. He had been so worried I’d regret my decision, especially once I came back to this house. I could see he was relieved that I was so purely happy.

  “So, California.” John said, and began to kiss my ear. I obliged him by turning my head to the side, giving him better access, so in love.

  “California.” I said it like it was a foregone conclusion. “But it’s not because of her. I’ve gone this long without knowing her.”

  John stopped kissing me and I opened my eyes, not liking the interruption, not wanting to talk about her. He had an expression I’d never seen on his face before. It was an expression I’d only seen on Novak’s. As if he were trying to tune into a faraway frequency.

  “Julia?”

  “What?” He was scaring me.

  “That was crazy.” He shook his head like he was coming out of it.

  “Tell me.” I took a step back.

  “Nothing. I’m fine now. I just had this crazy, vivid daydream.”

  “What did you see?”

  “No, it’s…I just saw this incredible underground world. I felt like I was there. God, where did that come from?” He rubbed his face with his hands. “Sorry. I’m so tired, I think I fell asleep standing up.”

  He shook his head and looked at me, beginning to laugh at himself. I watched his smile fade. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Carefully, I reset my features. “It’s nothing.” The lie came easily—I wanted to believe it so badly. I reached out to John, pulling him towards me. “It’s nothing at all.”

  Thank you, Amanda Eyre Ward. Without you, this book would not exist. Thank you for helping me tell this story.

  I am so grateful to my agent, the lovely Kerry Sparks, for ushering Select out into the world and holding my hand every step of the way. I also feel an enormous amount of gratitude to Shelby Boyer for her time spent shepherding this project.

  My deepest appreciation to Charlesbridge and to my editor, Monica Perez. Thank you, Monica, for your enthusiasm, insights, and thoughtful guidance.

  Many thanks to early readers Sophy Hagey, Debbie Dunn, Vivian Raksakulthai, Debby Wolfinsohn, Nancy McDonald, and Megan Frederick. Also, thank you to Elizabeth Kramer, Leigh Sebastian, Eddie Kaye, Dini Snow, Susan Hewlitt, Maureen Carlson, Andrea Dunlop, May Cobb, Jenny Holt, and Sookie Rothenberg.

  Thank you to my sister, Kjersti McCormick, and my mother and father, Kathleen and David Weisenberg, for listening and being so supportive over the years.

  Astrid and Margot, I owe you so many thank yous for the patience you had while living with this book and for somehow staying excited and sweet.

  And most of all, thank you to my husband, Jeff Gothard. You are the most capable person I know. Thank you for your kindness and willingness to be right there for me with support, ideas, and constant feedback. This book has your stamp on it in so many ways. I am so grateful for you.