James made a fuss rearranging the back seat of his car and loading the suitcase slowly so that Elizabeth could have the final few moments alone with Rowan and Trudy.
She turned to them, drunk with sadness. “I don’t even know what to say.”
Trudy stepped to her and cupped Elizabeth’s cheek in her hand. She looked pale, the navy hollows beneath her eyes more prominent. “You are magic, Bess Barnes. Every minute with you was a delight, my dear. Your room will always be ready for you, and your dog will always be waiting for you.”
Trudy pulled her close and pressed her cheek into Elizabeth’s shoulder as they hugged. When Trudy stepped away she dabbed her eyes with the edge of her long sleeve.
Rowan began with a heavy sigh. “I cannot thank you enough for everything you did for me, Elizabeth. You are the reason I was able to move on to Tempus. Now, I hope that you will continue to cultivate your own gift. You are a rare natural talent. Don’t let it lie fallow.” He took a breath. “I’m not sure, though, if the Operculum will ever be quite the same again. It feels so empty, and when I look over to your easel and you’re not there either . . .” He broke off as his eyes filled with tears. He cleared his throat and stared at the horizon, like a passenger on a boat trying not to get seasick.
“Why did you just call me Elizabeth?” she asked.
“Did I?”
“You did.”
He reached out his arms to her. “Well, come hug this dotty old man, I’m clearly going senile.”
She stepped into his embrace and was reminded of her first day in Fargrove, when she was forced out of her comfort zone and into a world that was foreign and wild and bursting with love. She now knew that sending her there was her father’s final gift, and a way to make up for his lifetime of failures.
“It’s time,” Elizabeth said, untangling herself before they became more emotional. “Thank you both, so much. I . . . I love you.”
“And we’ve loved you since before we knew you,” Trudy said, her voice cracking. “You are family.”
The word took her breath away. Family had only ever meant biology and heartbreak. But now she understood.
Elizabeth leaned down to pet Major, and he pushed into her hand like no amount of petting from her would be enough. He paced back and forth in front of her so she could stroke him on both sides of his body, then leaned up against her legs and stared at her face with eyes that told her everything he was feeling. She took a deep breath, then reached for Georgina.
The good-bye. She had to keep it together in front of everyone.
Georgina darted just out of reach. “Georgie.” Elizabeth laughed nervously, trying to keep the moment light. “Now’s not the time to play games.” She reached out again, and Georgina stepped farther away, refusing to even look at her. Elizabeth shrugged, trying to play off the hurt that made her head throb. “It’s probably for the best, right? I don’t know if I could take a Lassie-style good-bye.”
Elizabeth squatted down to try one more time. “Can I pet you, Georgina?” The dog backed up and then sat next to Trudy. She felt like she’d been disowned.
All she wanted was to run her hands over her dog one last time, so that she could memorize the texture of her fur and quickly count the spots on the top of her head. She wanted to squeeze her in a smothering hug until Georgina squirmed to get away, but she wasn’t about to chase her around to make it happen.
“She understands,” Trudy said, trying to comfort Elizabeth. “Don’t worry, she knows.”
Elizabeth choked back the lump in her throat and walked to the car where James stood waiting. She took one last look at the sprawling fields, then down the lane to where she’d first met the ladies, at the Operculum, the house. She tried to memorize the place that had come to feel like her home.
She got in the car and slammed the door. James didn’t even look at her as he started off down the driveway. The moment the car moved, Major launched into a fit of barking, chasing behind the car. Georgina joined him, and the two dogs raced down the driveway. Now she was just someone to be barked at, an about-to-be-stranger.
Elizabeth watched them in the rearview mirror. It made them feel distant, like she was watching a movie. To turn and look over her shoulder would be to realize that they were right there, just a few feet behind her, trying desperately to catch up to her.
They neared the end of the driveway with the dogs still in pursuit. Elizabeth bit hard on the inside of her cheek, but the tears pooled in her eyes anyway. She was about to tell James to stop the car, to keep them from running into the road, when she saw William standing at the edge of the property. He raised a hand to her, stoic as ever, as he whistled the familiar tone, so shrill she could hear it through the closed window. Major immediately peeled off and headed to William. Georgina trailed behind the car for a few more steps, as if in disbelief about what was happening.
The little dog paused, then ran to William, but never stopped watching the car as it disappeared down the road.
chapter forty-three
They were surrounded by people at Heathrow, which made it hard to have a good-bye that felt anything other than rushed and analyzed.
“Is your suitcase locked? And do you have snacks with you?” James asked. “They barely give you a bag of nuts these days.”
“Yes, I’ve got emergency Toblerone ready to go.”
“What time do you arrive?”
“Tomorrow morning at six our time. I mean, your time.”
“Okay,” James replied.
“I’ll call you,” Elizabeth said. “Or is that too early?”
“I’ll be up. I think the dogs and I are going to be out of sorts for a few days while we adjust to . . . the changes. We’ll probably hike.”
“Great, then I’ll call you to tell you I’ve arrived.”
“Um-hm.”
It felt impossible that they’d run out of things to say to each other, but they stood in silence and watched people with worried expressions rushing around the airport.
“I’m sorry I answered the phone last night.”
“It’s work.” He shrugged. “Duty calls, literally.”
The next morning had been a rush to get her back to Rowan and Trudy’s so she could finish packing, and between her anxiety about leaving and James’s surliness about the call, the time never seemed right to finish what she’d started saying to him.
“The security queue is getting pretty long, you should get over there.”
“Okay.” She struggled with how to give the words she needed to say to him the weight they deserved. The cold light of Heathrow made every exchange feel clinical.
“James, last night I wanted to tell you . . .”
He cut her off for the second time. “Don’t say it, Elizabeth. Not now.”
“Why not?” Anger and confusion swirled in her chest. “Why can’t I tell you that I—”
“Stop.” He put his hand up. “This isn’t the time.”
“James, why are you acting like this? I feel like I’m being punished. I’m sorry, but that was my new boss. What did you want me to do, screen his call?”
“Bess, I get it. Your job is your life, you told me as much, and if that’s what you want, it’s fine. I just don’t want to invest more of myself if you’re going to end up married to your career. I mean, it would be tough enough if we lived in the same city, but add an eight-hour time difference and it’s over before it’s begun.”
“I’m confused,” Elizabeth said with a shaky voice. “Are we going to try this or not? Because I’m not following you.”
“I don’t know what we should do.” James stared at the security line as more people stacked on. “But you really need to get over there, you’re cutting it close as it is.”
Her hands shook as she grabbed her carry-on, half rage, half fear. “You have great timing, you know that? Breaking up with me ri
ght as I’m about to get on a red-eye?”
His face softened, and he finally reached out to her. “I’m not breaking up with you, Bess. I’m sorry.”
She stood her ground and resisted when he tried to pull her closer. “Thanks for making this even worse. I don’t know what to think, James.” She blinked back furious tears.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know either.” He forced her into an awkward hug. She held on to her bags, refusing to respond.
She pulled away from him. “I’ll let you know when I arrive. Thanks for driving me.”
“You’re welcome.”
They had nothing left to say to one another, so Elizabeth turned to walk to the security line. She hoped that he’d call her name or run to catch up with her and say something that would make their final moments together less awful. She looked over her shoulder and he was still standing where she left him, watching her.
“James Holworthy!” she screamed, with tears streaming down her face. “I want you to know that I love you!”
chapter forty-four
Elizabeth walked into the conference room where the rest of the skeleton crew had already gathered. They were in the red room, where the walls had been coated in gleaming car paint until they were almost reflective. That, coupled with the dozens of tentacle pendants hanging from the ceiling, gave everyone in the room an unflattering orangish hue to their skin.
“Hey, Barnes, welcome,” Carson said. “Okay, we’re all here now, let’s get to it.”
Elizabeth looked around the room as Carson launched into his thoughts on their presence at the upcoming Worldwide Virtual Reality Expo in Vegas. They looked like any other scrappy start-up, recently flush with VC funds. Carson, Walden, and Spencer were in typical tech bro gear, in their limited-edition sneakers and black-framed glasses. The only other woman in the room, Anne from accounting, looked equally cool. It was hard to imagine that they were in the business of corrupting children.
Elizabeth was still failing at trying to reframe what had been bugging her since her initial discussions with Carson. Even though she knew little about children, aside from her tentative friendship with Poppy, when she’d looked at the sample screens of their launch games she knew that they were awful. They’d renamed Blood Hunter to Clown Hunter and added a counting feature that made it seem like it was educational. But it was still a first-person shooter game that armed boys with a water pistol to “waste” scary clowns. And Shop Diva was nothing more than a consumerism game about accruing goods and taking selfies. Elizabeth envisioned Poppy wearing the VR headset, accidentally stepping on Barnabas as she worked her way around the boutique that only she could see, trying to find the perfect pair of sparkly leggings.
“You still with us, Barnes?” Carson asked, snapping his fingers to get her attention.
“I’m all in,” she replied, even though she had no idea what he’d just said.
It had been a foggy three weeks since she’d returned to San Francisco, and not just because of the jet lag. The culture shock of going from Fargrove back to her old life hit her in unexpected ways. The tea she’d learned to crave was no longer enough to get her day started. Her old battle-armor clothing felt like costumes. She sketched on any scrap of paper that landed in front of her, wishing she were painting instead. She had no time to finish reading the book about the secret lives of sheep she’d bought in the Fargrove bookstore, even in the few moments before she turned off the light each night. And she wished to hear the pitter-pat of paws when she arrived home every day.
Georgina.
The dog was the only Fargrove resident who was still daring her to try to forget about her time there with physical reminders. She still found strands of Georgina’s fur in unexpected spots, like trapped between the teeth of her makeup bag and poking through one of the wool socks Trudy had knitted for her. Now, when she passed dogs on the street, she watched them interacting with their people like a jealous stalker. Because she knew what it meant to be loved by one.
She’d kept up a halfhearted correspondence with Rowan and Trudy via email. They refused to video-conference with her, which didn’t really matter because they were always in bed long before she was available to talk. Reid sent her texts with photos of Georgina around HiveMind and news of what was happening in Fargrove. Harriet sent video messages of Poppy and Ian wrapped in towels after bathtime, and photos of the family posed together. It always took her a few days to respond.
And James.
They acted like cordial acquaintances, always exceedingly polite when they connected. Their conversations focused around what the dogs were up to, what his hikes had been like, and how many new accounts he’d signed on. Elizabeth skirted around talking about exactly what she was doing at work, focusing instead on safe topics like her new colleagues and the campus amenities. Talking to him always left her feeling worse than not talking to him.
But she was back in her real life, and she was back in a big way. Now that she had a shiny new title at what was rumored to be the next category disruptor, it was as if the disastrous interview in Vegas had never happened. Duchess had been dismantled and auctioned off, and Cecelia had disappeared from social media while prosecutors figured out what they were going to do with her. The last photo Cecelia had posted on Instagram, just a few days before the leak, was of her hugging her daughter and Winston. Elizabeth had stared at the image until she’d memorized the details.
“Did everyone see that wireframe?” Walden asked, bringing her back into the moment. “Hey, Barnes, you see it?”
There was a good chance she hadn’t seen it, since there were 230 unopened emails in her inbox. “I did,” she lied convincingly. “Looks great.”
“Remember,” Carson said. “We’re going to create our buzz through relationships with influencers and their parents. The kid vloggers on YouTube, the moms that pimp out their Jaxons and Reighlynns on Instagram. We give them a free headset and game pack and they’re gonna eat this shit up.”
One of Elizabeth’s first responsibilities was working on a launch party where the attendees were well-known social media influencers, all under age ten. All of the kids had more followers than Elizabeth and knew how to create content that put hers to shame. There were Instagram toddler models wearing lip gloss and off-the-shoulder tops, professional toy reviewers where every post was #sponsored, unboxing pros, tiny sketch comedians, and a six-year-old fashion blogger who was setting trends on playgrounds across the country. As expected, all of the parents were insufferable.
“Okay, it’s all good, y’all. Back to work,” Carson said, smacking his hands together with a clap that made Elizabeth jump.
They started to disperse, but Carson called to Elizabeth.
“Barnes, check this out,” he said, beckoning to her before she could get away from him. She followed him to the stairwell that overlooked the lobby, where a team of men were struggling to mount something on the wall.
“I’m getting into art!” Carson said, with shock in his voice. “I actually commissioned this thing. You know art, right?”
“I do.”
Elizabeth studied the piece, a twelve-foot-tall neon display. Since it wasn’t plugged in, she had to squint to make out what it was.
“It’s Ted the Clown,” Carson said. “That’s Ted after he’s been torched by a pistol. See the hair and nose?”
Elizabeth could make out the mascot skeleton with the red fright wig and nose, and the oversized bow tie around its bony neck. She could see the outline of the clown’s legs and arms, so when it was plugged in it would do his ridiculous death dance.
“Have you ever seen anything like it?”
Elizabeth took a steadying breath before she answered. “I have. That’s by Lightbender.”
chapter forty-five
The young woman walking in front of Elizabeth was oblivious to the fact that there were other people on the sidewalk around her. She was studyin
g her phone and pausing every few steps, and each time Elizabeth attempted to move around her the woman managed to splay her elbows so that there was no room to pass.
Elizabeth was heading home after an evening meeting with the party planner for the launch feeling overwhelmed. The suggested “hubs” for the event—the party planner’s word for the various activity stations—were overwhelming. Did they really need a DIY cotton candy cart, six pedicure chairs, a retired military tank, a faux tattoo bar with an actual tattoo artist, a balloon pit, a live-feed photo booth, and a “real” unicorn in addition to the immersive real-life versions of Clown Hunter and Shop Diva? It felt like too much, but the planner insisted that they consider adding more, like a petting zoo with exotic animals.
Elizabeth pulled her phone from her purse as she shadowed the oblivious woman. Her socials hadn’t picked up much momentum since she’d been back despite her halfhearted attempts to create content. Whitney was back to “yaasss queen”-ing her posts, which Elizabeth didn’t bother to respond to. It wasn’t that she couldn’t find images or stories to post, it was more that she just didn’t care to keep up with it. Nothing seemed compelling.
The woman in front of her continued to dominate the narrow sidewalk. When she stopped suddenly to pose for a selfie she caught Elizabeth off guard, and caused her to slam into the woman’s back. The jolt made both of them stumble on top of one another for a few steps, and as Elizabeth attempted to regain her balance her phone flew out of her hand. It bounced on the ground with a heartbreaking smash and skidded into the street like a skipped stone, just in time for a passing car to crush it as if it had been aiming for it.
“Fuck!” Elizabeth screamed. She dodged another car that wasn’t slowing down and managed to grab the phone before a third almost hit her. No one seemed to care that she was in distress, not the passing cars, or the stupid woman who had caused the pileup in the first place, who stood on the sidewalk with her camera pointed at Elizabeth.
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