CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
LIAM
Liam pulled two chairs up in front of his mother and sat down with his hands clenched tight.
“Hi, Ma.” With a weak smile, he gestured toward his eye patch. “Look, we match.”
A gray eye stared back at him. At least today it tried to focus on his face. He wondered what she saw when she looked at the eye patch, at the scar that stretched from either side of it, the split skin filled with a blackness like volcano glass. That he’d suffered, the same as she had? Or that, like her, he’d also survived?
He liked to think the latter. “I’m sorry I haven’t checked in on you for a while. As you might have heard, there’s a war. And I had to do my part.”
Her throat bobbed with an involuntary swallow. An eyelash was perched on her hollow cheekbone. Liam reached forward to brush it away and let his thumb linger for just a moment. How long since he had last touched his mother, held her hand, cared for her himself? It had always been easier to pay for the nurses to do it, even if it meant eight more hours working in the boiler room or reshelving books in the stacks.
“I—I had to go away for a while. Had to get my head right. I thought if I could be strong enough, then no one could ever take anything from me.”
He wasn’t sure when he’d started crying; he only felt it when the first tear slid down his chin. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t look her in the eye when everything he’d done—splitting worlds apart, unleashing monsters, conquering them, destroying the Third Reich’s access to it all—when none of it could undo what one drunken bastard with a tire iron had wrought.
Then Daniel was leaning over him, brushing the tears from his cheek. Liam sucked in a breath and caught Daniel’s hand in his own. Met his gaze, dark and heavy with everything they’d endured, everything yet to come.
Please, Liam mouthed. Sit with me.
Daniel gratefully sank into the other chair. Did he imagine it, or did his ma look Daniel’s way?
“You were right about a lot of things, Ma, but wrong about some. It’s okay, cause I was, too.” Liam squeezed Daniel’s knee. “But I’m going to be here for you now. We won’t have to worry anymore.”
Yes—she was definitely looking at Daniel now. Did he imagine it, or was the good side of her mouth trying to curl into a smile?
“Ma, this is Daniel. He’s very important to me. I—I think I might be in love with him.” He glanced shyly at Daniel, cheeks reddening. “He’s an idiot like me sometimes, but I let him get away with it.”
Daniel scoffed at that. “You’re one to talk.”
“The movers’ll be here soon, Ma. Princeton wasn’t so good for you. I wasn’t so good for you here. The place they’re putting us up, it’s gonna be much better. For all of us.”
He still couldn’t quite believe it: the man in the suit on the army plane, the paperwork already drawn up. Special research project division, he’d said. No demons required.
A dangerous path, to be sure. He wasn’t sure if he trusted the government to walk it alone, the fuzzy spaces between their universe and the rest. But maybe, if he was a part of it from the start, he could guide it. Maybe he could set things right.
“We’re going back to the city,” Liam said. “I know you miss its sounds.” He leaned closer toward his mother. “And I’ll be there with you. Every step of the way.”
It was true, what Rebeka had accused him of—and accused Daniel of, too. He hadn’t really believed in an after. He’d left money and instructions for her care, but those would have eventually run out. He’d left classwork unfinished, debts unpaid. He’d been looking for another world, another power source, but he hadn’t stopped to think about how it fit into his life.
Well, he didn’t need it to fit. He could change his life all on his own.
He squeezed his mother’s good hand, and she returned it. It was enough, from her.
They stepped out onto the sunny afternoon streets of Princeton, where Rebeka and Phillip waited outside. They’d been speaking in hushed tones together, and Liam didn’t miss the color that touched Rebeka’s now-full cheeks beneath her hat brim as she straightened up at her brother’s approach. She looped her arm in Phillip’s as Liam led them to their car.
“How was she?” Rebeka asked.
Phillip kissed Rebeka’s cheek, then opened the back door for her. They all climbed in, Phillip and Rebeka in the back, Daniel and Liam up front, and Daniel chugged the motor to life. Liam caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as Daniel adjusted it, the black scar glistening with Pitr’s parting gift, and he wondered, just for a moment, what lurked under it—but it was better locked away.
“She seems content. C’mon.” He twisted around to grin at Phillip. “We’re gonna be late. Gotta meet with our new lab rats.”
“We’re going to get into all kinds of trouble on the government dime, aren’t we?” Phillip asked.
“Yeah. That’s kind of the plan.”
Liam slid his hand into Daniel’s, and their fingers locked together over the clutch as he eased them down the road.
“To whatever the future brings,” Daniel said gently.
Liam squeezed Daniel’s hand back. Before, when he’d thought of the future, it had consisted of being better, being more. Now the future had been blown wide open; one world was quite enough.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book would not have been possible without the brilliant guidance of my agent, Thao Le; my editor, Liza Kaplan; and the rest of the Philomel/Penguin team, especially Talia Benamy and to cover designer Kristie Radwilowicz. Special thanks also goes to promotional material artist Monica Borg, and to Ammi-Joan Paquette.
My unending gratitude goes to sensitivity readers Herb Boyd, Meriam Metoui, Ellen Goodlett, and Talia Benamy, and to the staff at the Jefferson Reading Room at the Library of Congress, the Library and Archives at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, the University of Tulsa Special Collections (archivist Melissa Kunz especially), and the Greenwood Cultural Center.
To my relentless cheerleaders, colleagues, co-conspirators, and accountabilibuddies: Dahlia Adler, Katherine Locke, E. K. Johnston, Jessica Spotswood, Caroline Tung Richmond, Ellen Goodlett, Robin Talley, Tara Sim, Emily Duncan, Miranda Kenneally, Stephanie Kroll, Bria LaVorgna, Alex de Campi, Charisse Linsangam, and more.
To all the amazing fandom friends I’ve made: Saana, Meghan, Clare, Katie, Shiro, Christel, and everyone in the NWY project; V, Q, Hya, Decas, Grey, SIGF, Frog, Minty, Jano, Steph, Rache, Schu, Goop, Blue, Helen, Charlie, Zach, Star, Nox, Lois, Ruse, Donnie, and everyone in the ToFS project. Knowingly or not, you’ve all encouraged me to keep writing and keep finding new stories to tell.
To everyone working tirelessly to document history, fight against fascism and oppression, and shed the harsh light of truth in every dark corner, thank you. You are not alone.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lindsay Smith (lindsaysmith.net) is the author of Sekret and other novels for young adults. She writes for Serial Box's Marvel's Black Widow, Orphan Black: The Next Chapter, and The Witch Who Came in from the Cold. Her comics and short stories have appeared on Tor.com and in the anthologies Shout Out! an LGBTQ YA Anthology, A Tyranny of Petticoats, Toil & Trouble, and That Way Madness Lies. She lives in Washington, DC, with her husband and dog, where she works in cybersecurity. You can follow Lindsay Smith on Twitter and Instagram @LindsaySmithDC.
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The Shadow War Page 34
