Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“What are you? A detective?”
“No. Better. I’m a reporter.”
“I thought you were retired.”
“Well, I got handed—literally handed—a story. And I can’t say no.” She shrugs. Like this is fate, cannot be helped, and she’s got no say in it at all.
I just shake my head. “I’ll run with you, if you wait.”
“I don’t want you to run with me.”
“Why not?”
“Because to you, running is a form of torture.”
“Stop.”
“And for me, running is just how I get to that little shop in Ipanema where my coffee is waiting.”
She’s got both shoes on now, so she wiggles her fingers at me and leaves.
I lie back in bed, smiling.
I’ve got no idea what I’m doing with this woman.
But I’m gonna keep doing it.
Budi is making protein shakes for breakfast. I pause and watch him as he drops large chunks of mango into the blender filled with coconut milk. “Are you making one for me?”
Budi smiles over his shoulder, but Evard is the one who answers. “He made one for Beth.”
I find it so funny that they’re all calling her Beth now.
Evard is still talking. “She took it with her on her run. She told us to pack. Where are we going?”
Shit. Evard isn’t going anywhere. There’s no way Cort will let him go to America. It’s out of the question. So I don’t answer.
But then Paulo is behind me. “Miami. She told me. I was coming up from my run and I bumped into her in the hallway.”
“Miami?” Evard says it like he’s trying to work out where that is.
I try to play it off. “I don’t recall inviting any of you fucks to come along.”
“She found Irina,” Paulo deadpans. Goddammit, Beth. What the hell? A little discretion. “So…” Paulo is looking me straight in the eyes. He might even narrow them down a little. “We’re going.”
“Going where?” Maeko asks, coming out from his bedroom, dark hair still wet from a shower.
I let out a long breath as that whole conversation plays on repeat. “Evard.” I walk over to him and place a hand on his shoulder.
“No. Fuck that, Maart. I’m going too. You guys can’t just leave me behind.”
“Cort is not gonna allow it. He’s not, Evard.”
“Fuck him. He doesn’t get a say.”
“It’s not happening, and he does get a say. You’re the only lucky little fucker in this room who has a real father.”
“I’ll ask Anya.” Evard tips up his head. Like he just played his trump card.
“It’s not gonna work.”
“Why not?” He’s pissed. But I’m right and he’s wrong.
“Because it’s America, Evard.”
“So?”
Paulo walks by him and flicks him on the head as he passes. “Where do you think most of us come from, Evard?”
Evard winces. It was a hard flick meant to shut him up. And it worked—the words, at least. Maybe not the flick. His silver-gray eyes find mine. “Did I come from America?”
“No. You came from a breeding camp.”
“Then who came from America? Because it wasn’t any of us. Paulo is from Brazil. You don’t even speak American. I sound more American than you. Maeko came from Japan and Budi came from… somewhere over there.” He flings his hand off in a random direction to mean Indonesia. “This is all a lie.”
He’s right. About half of it. None of us in this room came from America. But we’ve had dozens of kids in the camp who did. Stolen right out from under their mommies and daddies. And Miami is the flagship American city for human trafficking. He’s not going.
I shrug. “Call him up, then. Ask him, Evard. But you already know what he’s gonna say.”
“I’m practically eighteen. In fact, I probably am eighteen. He doesn’t get a say.”
“You are free to tell him that.”
“Fuck this.” Evard retreats from the room, angry.
And I feel like I’m having this argument on repeat. First Irina, now Evard.
Budi hands me a protein shake in a frosted, stainless-steel cup. I take it back into my bedroom, close the door, and call Cort.
“Yep.” He’s out of breath.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“No. I was jumping rope. What’s up?”
“The reporter.” I still call her that with Cort. He doesn’t know we’re on a make-believe-name basis now. “She found Irina.”
“Really? Where?”
“Miami.”
“She’s still there?”
“Yeah, I guess. So listen, we’re going to see her, and Evard—”
“No way.”
“I told him that. But he’s pissed. Ya better come pick him up. We’re leaving tonight.”
“Is everyone going but him?”
“Paulo and Maeko for sure. I didn’t ask Budi, but he didn’t say he wasn’t going, so I’m gonna say yes. Everyone is going but Evard.”
Cort blows out a breath. “Well, yeah. He’s gonna be pissed.”
“That’s an understatement, brother.”
“But he’s not going. Do you agree?”
“I do. He should stay.”
Cort pauses for a moment, then adds, “Are we making a mistake?”
“You mean, are we pushing him away the way I did Irina?”
“No. That’s not what I meant. But now that you say that—”