Chapter 32

Corrin

I can’t move as I watch Sevina wipe the blood from the silver gun, Marty at her side.

I must be still dreaming. I’m asleep and my father’s body I just saw stumble on its side is a fragment of a nightmare. It’s not until the men turned on Dan that I noticed I was at a gunpoint.

The kite… she said to me.

My brother’s screams reach me as the men throw him into a trunk. I shiver, my eyes twitching to Sevina. She stands next to Marty like an unmovable boulder; her feet wide, shoulders straight. Her long sand coat hangs heavily behind her back. With a leaden glare she meets my eyes and something inside me chills.

Sevina murmurs to Marty, words too distant. He motions for the men and they walk to one of the vans. My world comes into focus when I see them help Willow out the back. She’s bruised, and drained, but no less curious of what’s happening. To my surprise Sevina doesn’t jump to aid her. Instead they exchange some words, Will nodding to Sevina, immediately grasping the weight of the situation, and then the men lead her to the back of one of the cars.

Sevina is still Sevina, right?

A clutch on my shoulder shatters my stupor, but not shock.

“You all right, mate?” Quint stands beside me.

As if nothing else exists I watch Sevina converse with Marty, then Marty beckons her to Father’s black limo. “Wrap it up!” He circles his finger in the air. My father’s men rush to the cars, two of them staying to clean up the body—

“Corrin,” Sevina calls me, standing by the door, Quint nudges me forward and I will myself to walk.

Sevina slides inside and I sit next to her. The last time I huddled here was when I faced my father. Behind the partition the front door slams and starts the engine. It’s probably Marty, though he rarely drives.

“Sev?” I choke out. “Where are we going?”

“To the mansion,” her voice turns soft. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry you had to see it.” The car slides out of the hangar.

I pivot to her. “Sorry I had to see it? You told me you wouldn’t kill if you had a choice.”

“I didn’t,” she says blandly. “There was no choice, Corrin.”

“Was it you who killed him, or was he suicidal and you just got affected?” I pray for the latter.

She’s silent for a minute. “It was me.” She faces me, her eyebrows curling. “We did it,” her voice quivers. “We did it, Corrin.” She inspects my face, searching for something I cannot make myself to feel or show.

“Yes,” I struggle for air as I whisper, but then my voice hardens a little. “Were you planning this? To-to kill my father? For how long?” What if she knew far more than she told me?

Her eyes fill with worry and her voice jumps. “No, of course not. Corrin, I’d never do it if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.” Her cold fingers reach for my hand and I jerk back, noticing my father’s blood on her sleeve. Sorrowful, she retreats back to the other side of the seat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Words leave her mouth barely audible. “I wish there was a way for you to understand it all.”

I bring a speckle of an artificial smile into my lips. “Then talk to me, Sevina. Since when?”

“Marty was leading me away, so in my panic I thought I’d try to get him on my side. And there were lots of cracks between Reid and his men. And when you pulled into the hangar, I knew I had to step my game up,” she utters dejectedly. “Because I-I didn’t want to watch you or Quint die because I failed. Like I failed with Terrel. Like I failed with Rovy…”

“But it’s not your fault Rovy died,” I utter.

“It is as much as it is yours.” Her face is blank. “Don’t you see, Corrin, that your family is not all there is...” She closes her mouth when a few involuntary pants escape me at the mention of more mafia dealings. “It doesn’t matter.” She glances at me warmly. “I care about you all. I never thought I would, but I do. And I care about others. Those who die still... I needed a better way to help people, and when I saw your car I understood that doing it from within is a good choice.”

“And you thought you’d kill my Father?” I don’t notice I’m shaking my head, unbelieving.

“No, only when I saw his life.” She gazes out the window, her body drawn as far away from me as possible. “I didn’t want to murder him, but once I saw it…”

My voice softens. “What did you see?”

She gulps. “Death, pain, moral insanity.”

I know it might’ve been worse than average life, but I want the details. “That’s nothing new.”

“Oh, it was new,” she says, then all but inaudibly adds. “I’ve never seen anything like this. A mind so scarred.” She faces the front, staring at the black leather seat opposite to us. “Finally. No one else will die. I’ll make sure of it.”

“You’ll make sure?”

“You’re going to leave. Yes?” She doesn’t face me or doesn’t dare. “This is what you’ve been thinking about since you saw the slaughtered hideout… You told me yourself you won’t follow Dan.”

A while ago was true, but the idea was forming without my realization since I set foot back into this city. And since my mother uttered the words—You are better for just being you, for not following.

It means I don’t have to follow Sevina too, right? “I was hoping once Dan or Marty took over, we could leave. Together.” The overpass we drive on leads into a network of multilayered roads, the suburbs of condos sliding below in a blur of buildings.

“I can’t leave now.” Morning sun falls on her face in brown streaks, subdued by the darkened window. “Havason is the only place I know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t remember how I got here,” she breathes. “I woke on a bench in this city when I was eleven, alone on the street… without memory. Whatever happened to me, whatever lab I came from I don’t know. I am Jane Doe.”

I gape. She has amnesia already? That explains her calm reaction to forgetting half of our time in the van. “But your name?”

“Sevina, yes, I feel it’s mine, but Macelaw I made up when they had to fill in the gap. I was so scared, but Macelaw sounded… strong, so I chose it,” she pauses. “I wasted my life in that restaurant. I know this city. Both sides of it now. And…you said it was troublesome helping just one person. This is the way I could help many.”

It’s still her. She’s not lying. After all we’ve been through together she can’t lie. I just know it.

Her whole life a lot of people have been repulsed, defensive, and distrustful of her—in the restaurant, in the foster care, in the hideout. I won’t be. Out of all people she is the last person who would bring me harm.

I reach for her hand and her chest rises and falls with a breath of relief. “Sev, I understand. But I—”

“You don’t have to be by my side.” She beats me to it. “I’m more than grateful for all you’ve done for me. You deserve time to get your head straight.” Her cold fingers clutch mine.

Everything in me shrieks to leave this city right now. “I’ll think about it.” Start anew, somewhere far, where my mother and I took vacations. Meet new people… Maybe even find a girl to whom I can tell only what has to be told. “Are you still scared?” I whisper.

With a strong squeeze she lets go of my hand. “Not as I used to be. Fear made me useless. And I won’t be useless anymore.”