For once, he’s speechless. His lower lip trembles as his eyes search my face, and I sense his helplessness, but that night comes flooding back with a vengeance. My breath catches in my throat, the staccato bubbles rumbling past my ears. I close my eyes, thrashing in the deep, drowning. Lost at sea, I’m hunting for connection—for a lifeline—for someone who gets me.
And I’d thought I found it.
But there is no one. I’m utterly alone in this world.
Still.
Darkness descends, and the endless wanting for someone true cracks open. My sinuses burn, and tears prick my eyes.
When I open them, I find Garrett’s haven’t left my face.
Infinite apology is reflected in his glassy stare, a sorrow that cuts through to my core, that understands me maybe better than anyone—because that night is his to bear, too—but I can’t look at him. I bury my face in my hands, tears leaking down my cheeks.
My friends…my so-called friends…Adam…Nash… I swallow, trying to catch my breath. But he was never real. Everything was a lie… And what do I know now? More lies… But this means my parents didn’t set the bomb… Maybe they did love me. Worthless hope buoys me before reality crashes in. You know better. That night was the end—the end of my life. The end of the lie…
Disgust that I’m so stupid, so starved for affection I’ll throw everything away to get it, descends, pinching the nerves in my neck. Maybe I’m not worthy of love. Or maybe love doesn’t exist. I sit, paralyzed in a black void, hate for myself—for this world—reverberating through me.
Garrett touches my shoulder. His fingers are gentle at first, growing stronger as they slide up the back of my neck until his palm is applying pressure at the base of my skull.
Something about his touch is reassuring, and the dark brightens a little. I peek at him.
“I think about it all the time,” he says. His voice is gravel. “The families I shattered. Those kids aren’t here because of me.” Squeezing his eyes shut, he breathes deep. “I think about them every day.” He reopens his eyes and connects with mine, lips wobbling. “It hurts every day.”
Pressing my chin to my chest, I wipe my tears and nod. “I know what that’s like,” I whisper.
“I got caught up in the party,” he continues. After giving my neck a final squeeze, his hands find mine clenched in my lap, and he sandwiches my fist between his palms. “I’m not proud of it, but I’ve always been curious what Influencer life is like—what it’s like to live in an augmented world—and I lost track of time. I didn’t know Nash was going to be there. All I could tell from studying your Network feed was that he hurt you, and he’d completely changed since the last time I saw him. I didn’t know what game he was playing—I still don’t—but we used to be friends, and I thought he was on my side…” He swallows, his fingers gripping mine.
“Remember I said bad stuff happens when he’s around? I trusted him to keep everyone off the boat… I don’t know what happened. We haven’t spoken since that night. Maybe there was a miscommunication, but by the time I realized there were people out there it was too late. I raced to get you—to get to everyone—I was on the boat with Nash, coming to dismantle the bomb. And we were fighting because he was insisting on coming with us, and I thought it was because he didn’t think I could handle you alone. My pride got in the way, and I wasn’t fast enough… I failed.” His voice cracks.
Nash let everyone on the boat… I file that fact away for later, suspecting it’s important. It’s not totally Garrett’s fault…
“I’m not telling you this because I want you to forgive me,” he says, fingers sliding up and circling my wrist. “I can’t forgive myself. I would never ask that of you. I’m telling you because you deserve the truth.”
“Truth.” I laugh without mirth, venturing a glance up at him through wet eyes. “Is anything real?” My throat constricts, and I choke on the words. “I need something to be real.”
Grabbing my shoulders, he forces me to look at him. “We are. You and me. Here. Right now. In this moment. All of this.” He gestures between his heart and mine, where the tension is undeniable. “Everything we just accomplished. Us. We are real.” He searches my face, and it’s like he can see straight through to my soul—like he intimately knows all of me—and he likes what he sees.
My chest tightens. “I’m sorry if I can’t believe you.” I practically spit the words to combat the wretched hope burrowing in my core.
“I don’t blame you.” The corners of his mouth turn down. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove you can trust me.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible,” I whisper.
“Impossible is my specialty.” His mouth twitches, and his hands run down my arms, scooting me closer to him. “Honestly, when I first met you, I expected you to be a pain.”
I raise my eyebrows, unable to squelch the glimmer of annoyance he always inspires in me—which is somehow reassuring—and sniffle. “Thanks.”
He bites his lower lip. “All I knew was you were some sexy Influencer chick that had guys falling at her feet.”
My stomach drops.
“I figured the last thing you needed was some guy following you around like a lost puppy,” he continues. “And I’ve also never considered myself ‘some guy.’”
“You’re definitely not ‘some guy,’” I say, pressing my lips together, suppressing the outrageous urge to giggle.
“I wasn’t lying when I said my parents made me hang out with you.” He wrinkles his nose. “They did, at first. But I didn’t know how to get close to you without coming off as some weird stalker.”
“And that’s why you picked me as your partner?” Disappointment thuds in my chest.
His eyes widen. “No. Not at all. By then I’d realized you weren’t some big-shot Influencer. You were cute and quirky and funny and brave, and you kept me on my toes. I liked you. But that was dangerous because I’m not allowed to like you.”
Heat surges up my spine, and I nod. “Keystone Code.”
“Exactly.” He frowns. “I wanted you close, but I also had to keep my distance.”
An ache grows deep in my belly, a burning desire for everything to be possible, to be free of the past and barreling toward a bright future. I know it in my bones. I want my new life to be true. Rayelle and Sophia and Stewart and…Garrett. I want to believe him. I remember what Allard told me my first day at Keystone…about forgiveness changing my understanding of the past so it no longer limits my future. I can’t change the past, but I can change how I react to it. Death is a beginning. That night was the beginning of my life…
An involuntary smile plays on my lips, and I bury the grief. Enough. Inhaling, I breathe in my future. “Thank you for telling me all of this. In some ways it’s nice to know someone else understands where I’m coming from.”
“I understand you more than you know,” he says. “Do you remember I told you you’re the only person at Keystone who is any competition for me?”
My heart skips. “Yes…”
He starts to say something but then closes his mouth. He blinks his eyes closed and, when he opens them, changes the subject. “I let you out of my sight that night. I should have known you were out there. I should have saved you… You know, I wasn’t sure you were alive until I saw you in the Crypt that day. Do you remember?”
I think back to the first time I laid eyes on him. “You were studying the Voynich manuscript…”
“Yes. The Voynich,” he repeats slowly. “I’ve never been more relieved. Those two days of not knowing were hell. I never want to feel that again.”
“But it’s not your job to save me,” I say, retreating from the intensity that makes me want to be wrapped up in him.
“I have to. I can’t help it.”
I shake my head. “You know all my secrets. You know how terrible I was, about my lies, my cover-
ups, and you still want to protect me… Nobody has ever wanted me for me. Ever.”
“Ellie, the one night I spent in the world you came from was the worst one of my life. It’s left me with scars that will never heal.” He runs his thumb over my lips. “I don’t know how you survived as long as you did. I don’t blame you for any of it.”
Tears sting my eyes. I fill my lungs, and my words come out in a rush. “I don’t blame you either… In fact, I like you, too.”
A smile spreads over his face, and his hands move to my jaw. He presses his forehead against mine, the connection buzzing between our brains dizzying me.
Tilting my chin toward his, he presses his lips to mine. The kiss is soft at first. Warmth spreads through me as he coaxes my mouth open, and, closing my eyes, I give in to the swirl.
“We’re not allowed to do this,” I murmur as his mouth lowers to my throat, igniting my body in shivers.
“I know…” He settles me onto the couch, his knee parting my thighs. Coming up for air, he locks eyes with me. “But maybe if only we know…”
“It’s enough.” I finish his sentence, running my hands down his chest, mesmerized by his strength.
Caught in a tidal wave of adrenaline and emotion, I pull him into me, pressing my body against his. He again finds my lips. His chin is rough against mine, and my fingers are in his hair, and we are pinned together. I know I should stop it, but some part of me has already given in. I can’t get enough of him, and I don’t overthink it. What happens next is inevitable.
Hot pink is too much to resist.
I send out love, and it is love I receive in return.
Chapter Forty-Seven
March 20X6, Menlo Park
It is with effort that I open my eyelids to return from the magical dreamland I’m floating in. Sunshine filters through the treetops, casting gentle renditions of ruffled leaves on the treehouse walls. Cocooned in cozy blankets on the fur rug, I slowly come to, stretching my arms overhead. The fire has gone cold, and I’m struck by the silence, the lack of static in the room. I bolt upright, the night rushing back to me. A quick survey of the space confirms I’m alone.
My stomach churns.
Rushing to the radio, I find no information. The dial is turned to off. Did I sleep through the message transmission? Why didn’t Garrett wake me up? Hands shaking, I ransack the treehouse, knowing he’s taken the algorithm and isn’t coming back. The only evidence I find that Garrett was here is my pink Ring Around the Rosie dress draped over the couch.
He delivered the algorithm without me… Crumpling into a ball, I barricade my mind against the memories—his lips caressing mine, fingers grazing my skin, the inexplicable bond that tied us together. I press my forehead to my knees. So much for being a team… The tears flow, my aching throat sobbing out the betrayal. Is anything real? Hiccupping, I gasp for breath, the fireplace blurring before me. Is anyone loyal?
I wallow for a few minutes, caught in a self-loathing loop, recalling the night. His confession. What were my instincts? The answer comes easily. I believed him. And I trust myself. I’ve never felt as complete—whole—as I did last night. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to stop thinking the worst—to stop thinking everything is about me—and pull myself together. After I splash water on my face, I put on the pink dress and plot my next move.
There must be an explanation. He must have been ordered to go alone. I check my watch. 8:30… Is he still undercover? Could he be at breakfast with Nicki? For all she knows, he was taking care of me last night… Remembering, my cheeks burn. Maybe he’s coming back.
Two hours later, I’m still pacing the floor, beginning to lose hope.
Shoving my hand into my right pocket, I plop onto the couch. My fingers connect with a paper square, and I pull out the note from Nash and unfold it.
We belong in nature. Among the Appalachian oaks where water falls from stone. I’ll wait for you.
Bang, bang, bang.
A fist pounds outside the treehouse door, and I jump. Rayelle. I can’t help wishing it was Garrett on the other side, but my instincts tell me it isn’t. I creep to the door, peek out the window, and confirm Rayelle is on the other side.
Shoving the note into my pocket, I throw open the door. “I’m so happy to see you.” I hug her.
“You did it,” she says, squeezing me back while moving us inside. “Quinn is dead!”
“She is?” I hold her at arm’s length.
“Yes! You’re a hero.” She takes my hands, practically jumping up and down. “It’s done. Heist complete. Everyone is in the van—Stewart, Sophia, Liam—”
Garrett? My chest swells with hope.
“It’s time to go. Is Garrett ready?”
I shake my head. “Garrett’s gone,” I whisper.
Her jaw drops. “What? But he just messaged Stewart your location.”
“He did?” Hope that he might be coming back blasts through me, but I know in my heart he’s not. “He must have done it from…wherever he is.” I shrug, unable to continue.
“No way. Garrett is a traitor?”
“No. He’s not a traitor. He just delivered the algorithm without me…” Tears sting my eyes, and I wipe them away with the back of my hand. Pull yourself together. “It was his heist. I guess he deserved to take the credit.”
“That dick. That’s so unfair!” Her cheeks flush, and she rolls her eyes. “Just like a guy.”
Grateful for her outrage, I smile. The day brightens, and I know exactly where I want to be.
“Thank you,” I say. “You have no idea how much your friendship means to me.” Gripping her hand, I hang on tight. “Let’s go. Take me home.”
After locking the treehouse behind us, we cross the suspension bridge and climb down the inside of the tree.
“You know what, Rayelle?” I say over my shoulder. “You deserve a ton of credit, too. We couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have wanted to do it without you.” Her voice floats up to me.
“Me neither. You or Garrett.” As soon as I say his name, something in my left pocket clangs against my leg. Reaching the bottom of the ladder, I hop down and pull out the key fob with the Keystone emblem etched into it.
…
Back at Keystone, I go straight to Allard’s cottage.
“Elisha.” She wraps me in a hug and pulls me inside as soon as she opens the door. “You did it. Congratulations.”
I push her away. “Why didn’t you tell me Crystal stole my Book of Secrets? I told her everything. She knew all along how I felt about Adam…I mean Nash…and he’s her son! I feel so stupid.”
Her smile falters. “You have every right to be upset.” She leads me to the couch. “I was going to tell you eventually. I’m sorry to have kept it from you. I just wanted you to get settled here. To make this home. And I thought knowing we were the ones who took your Book of Secrets might overwhelm you.”
“It would have,” I agree.
“Please believe me when I say we took it to keep you safe. I hope you can forgive me.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand. “At first we wanted the information the book contained on your parents’ Corporate friends, but once we realized your abilities, that the book might reveal your capabilities to the wrong people if it fell into the wrong hands, we knew we had to go to extra lengths to keep it—and you—safe.”
“Why would anybody be interested in my abilities?”
She sighs. “Because the Simulation isn’t functional yet. It requires quantum processing that nobody has figured out. Quantum cognition is imperative to making the Super Brain work, and experimenting on your brain patterns could lead to the discovery they’re missing. You could be the keystone of the Simulation.”
Fear creeping up my neck, I shudder. “Where is my book now?”
“Crystal has it. She’s using it
to help Nash know who he can trust, but as soon as she’s done with it, she’ll bring it back here and you can hide it in the Vault. Put it anywhere you’d like—you can be the only person who knows its location if you want.”
“You know what Nash is doing with Nicki?” I raise my eyebrows.
“Yes. He’s our person on the inside. He’s using her to get close to Simon. He’s the one who told us the Quinn update was about to launch today.”
I let that digest. Maybe Nash wasn’t lying to me…
“Why didn’t you warn us Nash would be there? That he was on our side?” I ask.
“Sometimes we keep pieces of the puzzle separate. It’s safer when nobody knows too much. If one person gets caught, they won’t have all the information to implicate anyone else… But we don’t have to worry about that.” She smiles. “Because you didn’t get caught. You did it. You, Garrett, Nash, Rayelle—all of you together. You won the battle for us. I’m so proud.”
Staring at my shimmery pink skirt, I let everything sink in. All of us together…
Two boys. Two pockets. Which code do I crack?
The answer instantly inserts itself in my brain, and I smile.
Epilogue
June 25, 20X6, Keystone
Lifting the skirt of my silk gown, I walk into the Initiation Ball. The Lodge has been transformed with a checkered wood dance floor and crystal chandeliers replacing the usual dear antler ones. The decorations are actual artifacts from the Titanic, and the attendees are wearing replicas of clothing from the early twentieth century. After returning from our heist, we were given the mundane task of sewing our costumes—a Maker skill that seems ridiculous to maintain but that Jeff and Whitney insist we know. My gown is inspired by one of Empress Feodorovna of Russia’s gowns that lives in the Victoria and Albert wing of the Vault. Despite missing the high of heist planning—and seeing Garrett every day—I secretly find it relaxing to sit under the trees in the evenings and embroider.
I scan the faces on the dance floor, hoping, as ever, one of them might be his, that maybe he returned for this night—the night of his initiation—the night of my eighteenth birthday. Coming up empty, I feel disappointment dip in my belly. Keystone isn’t the same without him. It’s lost some of its spark, the intrigue that made this place fascinating. Maybe that comes with familiarity, too, but his absence feels like a piece of me is lost, and I don’t know when I’ll find it. But we’ll see each other again. Like he said, this is only the beginning…
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