by Carrie Mac
“Yes, it’s hard!” Eva turned to her mother. “And it’s wrong! It’s unjust!”
“It hasn’t always been this way …” Grandma’s voice was calm, the way it was when she hushed Fawn to sleep. “Before, death was final. That was the way it had been since the dawn of time. And it is still final now, only now it is often postponed.”
“For good reason!” Eva’s cheeks were red, her eyes blinking anxiously. “We have the technology and so we should use it—”
“But, Eva,” Oscar broke in. “There is still no denying a higher power at play here.”
“Enough with your God talk!” Eva turned on him with a furious glare. “If I hear one more mention of God’s will, I’ll show you my will! My will will have me marching out of here with your children and never coming back. Do you hear me? Do you?”
“Mom!” Tears pushed at Phoenix’s eyes. “Please …”
But Eva was alight with grief and couldn’t hear Phoenix for the roar of the fire. “Don’t you tell me this is God’s will! This is Chrysalis’s doing! This is them proving a point! This is them judging him for not wanting to be their pawn anymore! You would sit there and allow them to play with his life like that? Would you?”
“Of course not,” Oscar said.
“And it’s not even true!” Eva bellowed. “I know that he didn’t kill himself just to get out of his contract. It’s a ludicrous suggestion. I know he didn’t do it. I know it.”
“But we are powerless against Chrysalis,” Oscar said with a tired sigh. “You must know this too. We can only look to the scripture—”
“No!” Eva held up her hands. “I don’t want your spiritual platitudes. I don’t want your ministrations or your lousy, hypocritical God. And most of all, I do not want your weak indifference—”
“How can you say such a thing?” Oscar’s hurt was audible in his voice. His eyes teared up. So did Phee’s. She put her hands over her ears but could hear her father’s tormented voice anyway. “I love our son!”
“Obviously not as much as I do! I want him back! I want him to come home! I want you to do something! Fix it, Oscar! I want you to fix it …” Eva’s bravado started to crumble. “I want him to come home to me. I want him here. I need my son back.”
Eva’s father stood up unsteadily and went to her side.
“Don’t cry, pet.” He drew her into a generous hug, surprising all of them with his timely lucid moment. “He’ll come home. He will.”
Phoenix fell into her father’s lap and let loose the tears. She wept, her shoulders shaking, her face drenched. She wanted to tell them. She did. But she also wanted to do the right thing, and do what Gryph would want her to do, and she just wasn’t sure what that was. As she cried, lost in confusion and fear and grief, her father cried too, quiet defeated tears streaking down his ruddy cheeks and into his beard.
Her family was ruined. They would never recover from this. Phoenix could see it now. Gryph would be cremated, and there would be a tension-filled service and then Eva would take Fawn and go to her parents and never come back. And Phoenix would stay with her father because as much as she loved her mother, Oscar needed her more. And she needed him. And that would be the new world order, post Gryphon. It was horrible to consider, and the awfulness of it made Phoenix cry all that much harder. And in that moment, with that glimpse of a terrible, inevitable future, Phoenix made her decision.
It was time to talk.
Her family—moreover, Gryph—was more important to her than Neko. She could sacrifice Neko for her family. The realization was a horrifying thought, and at the same time a cataclysmic relief.
“He didn’t do it on purpose—” Phoenix lifted her head from her father’s lap. “I know what happened.”
Eva’s eyes, still ablaze defiantly, turned to her. “What?”
“It was one of the boys.” The words caught in her throat as if they were dragging each other back. “One of … his friends … pushed him.”
“How do you know this?” Eva sat down. She reached for Phoenix’s hand across the table. She gripped it hard. “Tell me.”
“One of them told me.”
“Who?”
But then Phee had a glimpse into another awful future: Neko’s death. His home raided, his parents screaming as he’s cuffed by Crimcor, dragged from his life, forced into the decom facility and gassed. And Nadia, blaming her. Hating her. For the rest of their lives.
There had to be another way.
“No.” Phoenix started crying again. “I can’t say!”
“You must, Phee.” Oscar stroked her hair. “You have to tell us what you know.”
Phoenix shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Can’t?” Her mother spat the word at her. “You can’t? Don’t be stupid, Phoenix Elaine. Of course you have to tell us!”
“Eva, mind your words,” Oscar admonished his wife as he put a gentle hand to Phee’s flushed cheek. “She’s clearly struggling in a very difficult place. God help her.”
“Phoenix”—her mother’s voice dropped low, menacing—“you must tell us what you know. You absolutely must! Your brother’s life depends on it.”
“I can’t.” Phoenix drew in a shaky breath. Her heart stung from her mother’s harsh words, so it was easier to direct her refusal at Eva. Her mother had never said such hurtful things to her. Not ever. It was as if her mother had suddenly started speaking a terrible, alien tongue. “I just can’t.”
Eva glared at her. Phoenix couldn’t bear it. She looked away, her mind betraying her by catapulting down into the darkest depths of bad ideas. Did their mother love Gryphon the most? Would she be as frantic if Phoenix died? She could hardly imagine it. But then her deaths had been simple. Straightforward. Or so she’d thought, until Gryph had admitted his part in her second death. She turned on her mother, suddenly gripped by spiteful jealousy.
“You think he’s so perfect, don’t you?”
“Don’t you talk ill of him. He’s—”
“—not nearly as golden as you think he is!” Phoenix felt anger take over her like a demon. “He pushed me into that river! He killed me!”
“He didn’t.” Eva’s face paled. “You fell.”
“He pushed me.” Phoenix planted her hands on the table and leaned forward, fixing her eyes on her mother. “He told me himself. He pushed me! On purpose. Because he wanted to see what would happen. What coming back from the dead was like. He was curious.”
“I cannot believe you’re making this about you.” Eva copied her daughter’s pose, the two of them nose to nose across the table. “At a time like this, you still manage to make it all about you. You conceited little bitch.”
“Oh!” Phoenix sucked in her breath, feeling every bit as if it were her last, but then a swell of rage pushed the next words out. “You know what, Mother? Fuck you.”
Her mother lifted one trembling hand and slapped her hard across her face.
Phoenix reeled back into her father’s arms. He tried to hold her, calm her, as Phee scrambled to get free. “She’s upset, Phee. She didn’t mean it.”
“Let me go!”
“We’re all upset. Please, sit. Everyone, please, let’s just sit.”
Shocked, Phoenix’s grandmother put a hand to her mouth. Her granddad looked pained, as if someone had kicked him in the shin. They were the only reason she was sorry for cursing at her mother, but not enough to take it back.
She wrestled out of her father’s grip and took off at a run, out the front door and across the green. She didn’t know where she was going, but she had to get out of there.
“Phoenix, stop!” Eva was running after her, screaming. No apology for the slap, her mean words. Just begging her to stop and tell them what she knew. “Come back here! Tell us what happened!”
Phee kept running.
“You have to tell us!” Her mother’s voice started to fade. Phee glanced back. Eva wasn’t following her anymore. She had collapsed onto the grass in a defeated heap. “You can’t do this.
You can’t!”
Phee slowed to a stop, her limbs suddenly sluggish as she took in the image of her mother like that. Helpless and devastated. She watched Oscar catch up and help her mother back onto her feet, and then Phee turned away and kept running. Away from it all. Away from everything.
RULING
Phee knew she was dreaming, but she couldn’t pull herself out of it. The dream was so real that she had to convince herself it wasn’t by focusing on the details. She was wearing the same dress she’d been wearing on the day Gryph died, but she’d left that dress in her laundry pile at the bottom of her closet. And she was barefoot. Which wouldn’t be so odd, except that she was walking down the main corridor of the Chrysalis building. Alone, which also pointed out that it was a dream. But the rest was so real, and so much better than real life, that she didn’t want to wake up.
There was Gryph, sitting on a bench, waiting to go home. He looked up when he heard her padding along the cool tile.
“Where are your shoes?” He grinned at her.
Phee shrugged. And then she ran to him and hugged him and he hugged her back.
“I thought you were going to be dead forever!”
“Here I am. New and improved. Just like you.”
“It was awful, Gryph—” Phee was about to tell him about the past few weeks, but he stopped her.
“All that can wait.” He stood. “Let’s go home?”
“Yeah, let’s.” Phee followed him out into the sunshine, where they waited for a train. And then Phee reminded herself again that this was only a dream. She could do whatever she wanted.
“What should I do, Gryph?”
“Listen to me.” In perfect dream-like fashion, he knew exactly what she was talking about. He turned to her and held her arms, giving her a little sobering shake. “Let me go. It wasn’t Neko’s fault. It was my fault.”
“But you’ll never come home!”
“Neko shouldn’t be punished for it either.”
Phee felt someone tapping her shoulder. It wasn’t Gryphon. “I need more time.”
“Wake up, Phoenix.”
“You’ll be okay, Phee.” Gryph backed away from her, fading as he did.
“Wait, Gryph!”
“Phoenix!” Phee opened her eyes. The dream was gone. Marlin stood over her, the midday sun blazing behind him. Phee sat up. She’d fallen asleep on the bench, waiting for him.
“How could I sleep? At a time like this …”
“I don’t blame you.”
Phee grabbed Marlin’s wrist and looked at his watch. “There are only three hours left! What are we going to do?”
She told him about almost telling her parents. She told him about the dream too, how Gryph had told her to choose Neko’s life over his. He nodded as she spoke.
“He would.”
“But do I have to?”
“Can you live with yourself if you turn Neko in?” Phee’s phone buzzed in her pocket. “I … I don’t know.” The same exhaustion that had shoved her into sleep as she waited for Marlin pushed at her again now. She stifled a yawn. “I just don’t know what I should do.”
“It’s time to get the boys together.”
“I’ve tried that.” Her phone buzzed again. She looked at the screen. Ten calls from home. Phee shut the phone off and slipped it back into her pocket. “I couldn’t get them to talk. Not at all.”
“With me this time.” Marlin paled. “I’ll talk to them.”
“That’s not safe. You said so.”
“I’ll handle it.” Marlin shrugged. “It needs to be done. They had all this time to come up with a solution and they didn’t. Now it’s my turn.”
PHEE WAS NOT AT ALL convinced that this was a good plan. And she was even less convinced that this was the best way to spend the last few hours before Chrysalis announced their ruling. On the other hand, she had to admit that she didn’t have any better ideas. Her gut churned with anxiety as she and Marlin waited at the Steveston Pier Station, the place she’d arranged to meet the boys. She had not invited Nadia, because she and Marlin had both agreed that her presence would only complicate matters. He was going to tell them who he really was, and there was no guessing how Nadia would react, only that it wouldn’t be pretty. There was no time for her to have a meltdown, so Phee had told Neko to be sure she didn’t come with him.
So when Phee saw her best friend walking alongside her little brother, her heart sank. There wasn’t the time.
“What are you doing here?”
“If you guys are getting together two hours before the ruling, it must be important.” Nadia stepped forward to hug Phee, but Phee twisted away.
“You weren’t supposed to come, Nadia.”
“Why not? And anyway, my parents won’t let Neko out unless I go with him. It was either him and me, or no Neko.” Nadia noticed Marlin then, who was hanging back, but was clearly with Phee by the way he stood close to her. “Who’s he?”
“He’s … a friend.”
“Hi,” Marlin said. He blinked hard, dug his nails into his palms.
It was obvious to Phee that he was forcing himself not to approach Nadia as he was accustomed to, with open arms and a kiss. He practically trembled from the effort it took to treat her as if he’d never seen her before.
“A friend?” Nadia laughed. Huy and Tariq got off the next train and made their way to them across the platform. Neko hadn’t spoken yet. He fixed his eyes on the far end of the platform, where it had happened. “We are your friends. He’s not your friend. What’s going on, Phee?”
Marlin stepped forward. “My name is Marlin.” He held out his hand for her to shake, but she just stared at him. “I’ll explain everything, Nadia. I promise.” There was a tremor in his voice. Phee wondered if he would start crying, but Nadia’s sharpness broke the moment.
“Who is this guy? And why does he think he can talk to us like he knows us?”
Tariq joined them, having overheard Nadia’s last words. “I think I know why.”
Phee and Marlin both gawked at him. “You do?” Phee said.
Tariq nodded. “This is Saul. Right?”
“What?” Nadia’s jaw dropped. Her eyes teared up, and her cheeks paled. “What’s going on?”
“Nadia, babe …” Marlin reached for her.
Nadia crossed herself and backed away. “Stay the hell away from me.”
“How do you know, Tariq?” Phee turned to Marlin when Tariq’s answer didn’t come fast enough. “Did you tell him?”
“No,” Marlin said. “I didn’t.”
And then Tariq spoke. “I’ve been following you, Phee.”
“You what?”
“This is insane!” Nadia screamed. “Someone tell me what is going on!”
“And so I’ve seen him,” Tariq continued, oblivious to Nadia’s outburst. “I admit I’m making a leap, but I’m pretty sure that this guy is actually Saul. Am I right?”
“That’s crazy!” Nadia exclaimed. “This is so messed up! He’s not Saul.”
“But you are,” Tariq said to Marlin. “Aren’t you? I got curious after seeing you with Phee and followed you back to Saul’s house. You snuck in. Knew where everything was. And you blink super fast when you’re nervous. Like right now. Just like Saul.”
Marlin’s eyes blinked quickly as he looked at Nadia.
“Please, Nadia.” He held out his arms. “I can explain.”
“No!” Nadia screamed. And then again. “No!” And then she turned on her heel and started running.
“Nadia!” Marlin called after her, but she didn’t look back. “Go after her and explain!” he said to Phoenix. “Tell her I love her!”
Huy and Neko stared at the stranger, dumbfounded to hear him talk like that about Nadia, who as far as they knew he’d never met before today.
“There’s no time, Marlin.” Phee watched her friend sprint out of sight, down the stairs that led to the street.
“Go,” Tariq said firmly. “Go after her, Phee.”
Phee took a tentative step away from the small cluster of boys, still not sure if she should go after Nadia.
“Go, Phee!” Tariq yelled, startling her.
Phee ran along the platform and down the stairs. She found Nadia hugging herself, pacing in a tight circle. Nadia heard her coming and stopped. She looked up at Phee, and in that one glance Phee could see that this was not going to be easy.
“Nadia, let me explain …” Phee waited for Nadia to break in, yell at her, do something Nadia-like, but Nadia was quiet, waiting. “Saul had to leave. His family is a one-per family living here illegally. His parents were involved in illegal recons.” Again, she waited for Nadia to interrupt with a flurry of confusion, but she was still silent, staring at her. “Because they were about to be caught, they had to recon themselves so that they could go into hiding with new identities. But he still loves you. Very much.”
Phee left it at that for the moment. She watched the information sink in. Nadia blinked, opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
“That boy up there is Saul,” Phee continued. “He’s called Marlin now. He looks different, but it’s him inside.”
“Saul was a one-per?” Nadia whispered. She glanced around, making sure no one was within hearing distance. “All this time? He was lying to me?”
“Yes.”
“He’s one-per?” Nadia turned in another dazed little circle. “My Saul?”
Phee checked the time on her phone. One hour and forty-five minutes before the ruling. “Nadia, please listen to me.” Nadia started her stunned pacing again. “Nadia!” Phee shook her hard. “We’re running out of time. Listen to me!”
“I’m listening.” Nadia started to cry. “I know what you’re going to say. I know there’s no time left. I know you have to go save Gryph, or try at least. Now I know why you didn’t want me to come. I know that I have to just deal with this on my own right now. I get it, okay?”
“But—” Phee wanted Nadia to stay. Be a part of this. But she knew that wasn’t going to happen.
“Go.”
“You won’t stay?”