And now he knew everything I knew, about everything—except his dad being down in the basement, which I left out just in case this didn’t all go as planned. But mainly, Finn knew everything.
He laid there for a long time, not moving, not talking, just staring up at the ceiling.
I had left out one other thing. I didn’t want to be the one to say it because I knew what it felt like inside when you heard it for the first time.
When you found out someone you loved had died.
But then his wide eyes looked at me, and I felt like a horrible person for keeping it from him. So I pulled on my britches and said it.
“Also … Finn.” I fumbled over his name, annoyed at myself. “Also …”
That itchy feeling came back to my throat, and I tried to swallow it away.
Out with it.
“Also, they killed your mom. She died in the car wreck, is what your sister said.”
Finn didn’t move. The room filled with quiet, and I wondered if he’d heard me, but I wasn’t repeating it, so I hoped he did.
I swallowed. “And I’m sorry about it,” I said.
I think I saw a tear fall down his cheek.
I looked away.
“Like you,” he said finally. “Just like your mother.”
102
SAGE
The boys’ voices woke me.
My body was tucked into a ball in the back seat, exhausted from the exertion of making it to the Jaguar. Ollie had curled up on the floor board below me. I hadn’t moved from my position for what felt like hours, and my legs ached to stretch out between the driver and passenger seats.
But something about the tone of the boys’ conversation made me stay still. I could only see the side profile of Jack and the back of Beckett’s head.
“Did you give her the bracelet?”
“Yes.”
“Did she like it?”
“She put it on.”
Jack’s hand stayed clamped to the steering wheel, head facing forward.
“I wonder where it is now,” said Beckett. “Did you see it anywhere before we left?”
“No.”
Your dad has it, I thought. I didn’t even attempt to say it. No point.
“Your leg gonna be okay, man?” Jack said. “We need to get that cleaned up.”
“It’s fine.” Beckett sighed and rubbed his hand over his head. “I take back my challenge. I don’t mind green skin. But if she stays this angry for very much longer, you can have her.”
Beckett chuckled a couple of times at his own joke, but the laughter turned into something heavier, more choked and jerky. He sobbed, as silently as he could.
Jack shifted uncomfortably, then reached out and rested his hand on Beck’s shoulder, squeezing.
Beckett took a deep inhale. “I just never thought it would end this way, you know? … I really did love her … I do love her. I know she’s still in there.”
Jack moved his hand from Beckett’s shoulder down to the gear shift. “Believe what you want, Beck.”
“Don’t you see how she’s engaging with us? She covered herself in that blanket and let us lead her down the elevator without a fight. She climbed into the car. She’s in there, Jack.”
“That doesn’t mean a thing when her body deteriorates.”
I contained a shudder at the reality of my fate. Jack was right about that. It didn’t matter. Who cares that I could think inside this body? If it degraded to nothing, my thoughts couldn’t get out anyway. I was trapped.
My mind flickered to that little island town again. If only I could talk. I’d tell Beckett and Jack to take me to that town with Finn. Finn and I could die there together, in peace. Those people would accept us. I know they would. That old man in the fishing boat, he’d scatter my ashes in the ocean for me.
“It doesn’t mean we can’t hope,” Beckett replied. “Or that we stop trying to reach her in the meantime.”
Jack shrugged. “Cunningham may have a way.” But I could tell, by the flat tone of his voice, the comment was only for Beckett’s benefit, not because he believed it.
“Do you think she’s in pain?”
Jack shifted in his chair again, rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope not. I don’t know.”
Beckett hit his fist on the dash of the car, his emotions rolling back in.
“I’d do anything … anything to bring her back.” He punched the dash again then dropped his head in his hands, resting his eyes on his palms for a long time.
“You remember Mom, at the end?” Beckett said.
Jack’s voice, stiff: “Yes.”
“You’ve got to promise me something. If Sage … if she …” Beckett’s voice cracked. “If she doesn’t make it … we’ve got to talk about her. We can’t stop talking and let ourselves forget. It can’t be like Mom.” Beckett looked away from Jack, out the window. “When we were thirteen, you stopped talking about her.”
A heaviness hung in the air of the car’s cabin. Unspoken words from so long ago.
A lump settled in my throat, and again, guilt washed over me. I felt ashamed for questioning Beckett’s loyalty toward me. Jack was right. He’d do anything for me.
At the mansion, I was about to kill myself. Beckett stopped me.
In the hotel, Jack was ready to kill me. Beckett stopped him.
Beckett loved me even more than I loved myself. How was that possible?
How far could this carry—these acts of service that Beckett kept rendering, these actions that proved him faithful, time and time again? Were they enough wipe out my hurt from the three-year long lie he’d lived on the farm?
And then, a truth returned to me, one from the island that I’d realized when Beck had sacrificed himself to the modwrogs for my safety.
Sometimes people lie because they love you.
Was that the reason Beckett had lied to me for all those years? Was it to protect me? Make things better for me?
Up to now, I was so hurt, so betrayed, that I wasn’t even able to entertain the idea as a possibility. Now, though, as I faced the deterioration of my body and the reality of my impending death, thoughts flashed across my mind with more clarity. I had a more holistic view of my life, and the lives of others, and how we all intertwined and braided together.
Beckett lied because he loved you.
I let the warmth of this realization settle over my body like a comforting blanket.
I also felt able to appreciate Jack’s loyalty to me as well. He aimed that gun on me only because he promised me he would. I saw the torment in his eyes; I knew he didn’t want to do it. And yet he had. For me.
This, too, was an act of love.
They both loved me, in their own ways. Different, but both beautiful.
I knew the love I felt from both of them would bring me comfort in the coming weeks. And I hoped that when the point came, and I could remember nothing else about myself, that I would still somehow be able to feel and know this love.
I had hoped the same for Finn, hadn’t I? That he could feel my love, even when nothing else would penetrate his unreachable barrier?
It seems that even then, I’d known.
Love envelops all.
103
BECKETT
My body felt numb, sitting there in the passenger seat.
I was trapped in a downward spiral into darkness from which I knew there was no return.
She couldn’t die.
I wouldn’t let her die.
We had to stop it from happening.
I didn’t want to live in a world where this girl did not exist.
104
JACK
The road before me, the trip in this car. Both felt unending.
Sage in the back seat, a modwrog.
Beckett in the seat next to me, barely holding it together.
Watching Mom deteriorate had been the worst thing I’d faced in my entire three-year-old world. Her body got thinner and thinner, her skin yellowed. The smell of sickn
ess replaced the familiar sweet scent of her skin. Bed bound. Unable to move. Groaning with each breath she took in the last hours of her life.
I didn’t want to watch this happen to someone else I loved.
I didn’t want to watch Beckett watching it, either.
Last time was bad enough—the way he’d clung to Mom, the way he’d cried, the way Mom had been too weak and too drugged to respond to him at all.
The one reprieve back then, back fifteen years ago, lay in the fact that Beckett remembered none of it.
He didn’t remember how he acted. He didn’t remember what it was like to watch our mother waste away.
This time, he would remember it all.
105
SAGE
In a matter of seconds, I flipped from slightly uncomfortable, curled up in the backseat listening to the boys’ conversation, to unbearably cramped.
I needed to stretch my legs.
Now.
The sensation wasn’t a question. It was a need, and my body responded without me even knowing I was going to.
I heard the rip of the thick fabric. And then I saw my right leg—long, sickly green—sticking through the convertible hood.
The extra room felt awesome.
I shoved my other leg out.
Beckett spun around in his seat and blinked at the sight of me.
“Dude.” He smacked Jack’s arm. “She just busted through the hood.” A grin began wiping out the sadness on Beckett’s face. “Oh … Dad’s not gonna like that. He’s not gonna like that at all.”
“Well,” Jack said. “Good thing we don’t care.”
And, as if Jack wanted to add extra insult to the damage, he shoved his foot down hard on the accelerator. The Jaguar rocketed forward.
We sped down the highway, my two green legs sticking out through the roof.
I didn’t know what it would sound like, and I didn’t know if it’d freak the boys out, but either way, I didn’t care.
I started laughing.
106
IMOGEN
“Person, place, thing, or animal?”
“Animal,” I said.
“Is it a mammal?” Finn said.
“No,” I said.
I was playing twenty questions.
And the kid kept beating me.
He’d actually beaten me something like thirty-seven times, but I was trying not to count. Both for my pride and my sanity.
As far as I could figure, the twenty questions game was some way for Finn to cope. Maybe only until his sister came back, or until he dealt with all the hard realities I’d hit him with. I wasn’t sure about the when of things with Finn, so I just kept playing twenty questions.
Over and over.
For hours.
I tried to get him up, so we could head on.
I told him we needed to get out of here.
But he refused. Said if his sister was coming, then she’d come here, and he wasn’t leaving until she arrived.
I couldn’t fight him on it, couldn’t physically drag the bugger out, with my hands in their pathetic condition, so what was a girl to do?
Twenty questions. Clearly.
Eh, really, it was the least I could do for the poor guy.
He seemed shocked at the change in his appearance. He had long legs and arms now. And a deeper voice. And the tone of his skin was still slightly green. And he still couldn’t get on very well with his body. Couldn’t move his legs.
He actually said he’s quite interested in studying his modwrog self as his next science experiment, as soon as his arms and legs heal up and he can move around better.
“Second question,” Finn said. “Is the animal bigger than me?”
Was Finn longer than a crocodile? He looked giant. Long and lanky, but still so young … he couldn’t be over … what?
“How old are you, anyway?” I said.
“Fifteen. You?”
“Sixteen. Had a birthday a few months ago.”
“Happy birthday,” he said. He smiled at me.
After everything this kid had been through, he wished me happy birthday, and he smiled.
My heart pinged. No one but my mom had told me happy birthday in years.
“Thanks,” I said.
I needed to distract myself because I felt that lump forming in my throat again.
I cleared it away and said, “I think you’re the same size as the animal. I know that’s not a yes or no answer, but your question is a bit ambiguous anyway ….”
Finn scratched his head, watching me gesture.
He frowned.
“Umm … Imogen? I haven’t wanted to ask, but … what’s wrong with your hands?”
107
SAGE
Only thirty more minutes to Kansas City. I was so over this tiny sports car. What is it with males and sports cars?
The vehicle was completely inadequate for any more than one person, a dog, and a few grocery bags.
Mainly, my thoughts made me restless.
What would I think of seeing my father? What would he think of seeing me like this? If he was as cruel as I braced myself for, would he say something horrible? Would he try to kill me?
But what if everything is a mistake, and I misinterpreted Dr. Adamson’s scheme, and my dad turned out to be a wonderful person? What then? How painful would that be, knowing I’m dying in a few weeks or months?
And then, the bitterness invaded my mouth, reminding me of the reality: Dr. Adamson wanted my eggs. Sven helped get me to Dr. Adamson. Sven was also working with my father.
I growled and kicked a bigger hole in the hood. Beckett glanced warily back at me and gave Jack a knowing look.
I felt the car pick up speed.
Good.
We couldn’t get to Kansas City soon enough.
108
SAGE
The building looked like every other old brick building on a city side street.
Jack held down the button to retract the convertible hood, and the destroyed leather rolled back behind us. The sun shined bright overhead, my eyes blinking to adjust to the light.
Immediately, the Kansas wind whipped at my hair. Dry, dusty air flooded my nostrils, the scent familiar and reassuring. It suddenly hit me just how close to home I was. Only a few hours from the farm.
Jack glanced back at me. “Be good. And follow me. Can you understand what I am saying?”
I snarled at him.
“I’d take that as a yes,” Beckett said. He turned to Ollie, sitting next to him in the seat.
“Stay here. Be good.”
Ollie whimpered.
Jack grabbed his gun and jumped out over the door of the car. “Be on alert,” he said to Beck. “I’m not sure what we’re walking into here.”
Beckett grabbed a gun from the glove compartment, and we followed Jack to the building. At the entrance door, we found a white note hung by Scotch tape on the door.
Meet me in the conference room.
Jack pulled on the door, and it swung open easily. I followed Jack and Beckett into a deserted hallway.
“We’ll check the conference room first,” Jack said, voice low. “Then head to Imogen and Finn.”
Our footsteps echoed on the concrete.
The wind slammed the door closed behind us.
We moved through two hallways without seeing anyone.
“Hello!?” Beckett finally shouted.
Jack raised his gun as Beck’s voice echoed down the deserted hall.
The boys stopped at the doorway to a room which held a large conference table in the center, a projector on the table, and a screen up on the wall.
“Ah, there you are.” A voice called from inside.
Jack pressed the door back, scanning the space with his gun. No one was inside.
And then, we spotted it all at the same time—a face on the projector screen.
Dr. Adamson, in some sort of warehouse. In the space behind him, sheets covered a row of cars and motorcycles.
<
br /> The three of us stepped into the room. Instinctively, Jack raised his gun at his father’s head projected on the screen.
“I really wish I could shoot you right now,” Jack said.
“Yes, well, by this point in your life, you should be used to not getting what you want,” said Dr. Adamson. He didn’t looked ruffled by seeing his boys, or me in my modwrog state.
“What have you done with Dr. Cunningham?” Jack said.
“How was the trip? I hope you were careful with the Jaguar?”
“What do you want, Dad?” Beckett said. “Haven’t you ruined enough lives? Can’t you just disappear?”
“You boys figured it out, then?” their dad said. “Just how much I was involved?”
As if on cue, the door behind us slammed and locked.
Beckett spun at the noise, but Jack didn’t flinch or take his eyes away from his father.
A face peered through the small window in the metal door.
Beckett advanced to the door and shook the handle.
“Dr. Cunningham?” Beck pounded on the metal. “Dr. Cunningham, what are you doing? Let us out of here!”
“It was all me. You see that now, don’t you, Jack?” Dr. Adamson said to the son who was still paying attention to him.
But I was too distracted by Beckett’s words. He’d said Dr. Cunningham.
My father?
I eyed the man who stared through the pane, smiling smugly.
No. It couldn’t be.
That face looked nothing like the man from my dream. Different shape, different angles, a darkness in his eyes … nothing even close to the man from my dream. That gentle man from my dream-memories could not have aged into the face I saw in front of me. Those eyes … the proud gleam in them, the way his chin jutted out in arrogance. None of it was the man in my dream.
My heart refused to believe that this was my father.
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