Lock’s eyes widened a bit as he took in what I was saying. He was so clever, my Lock. His voice was quiet and strained when he spoke his next words. “Don’t pretend like you’re doing this for me. I don’t need or want your protection.”
The ferry horn sounded again, and I glanced over my shoulder to watch the cars being directed onto the platform. I knew I was out of time, and still my hand shook when I dropped my grip on his arm and reached into the pocket of my coat. But before I could turn back to face Lock, I was in his arms.
“Please,” he said into my ear. “Let me take you in. I’ll fight with you at every step.”
I couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. Couldn’t move. And then I felt myself curl into his embrace. It was all I could do to keep the whimper in my throat, keep the tears welling in my eyes from escaping down my cheeks. He couldn’t know how good it felt to be surrounded by him, or how much it hurt to know it was the last time.
“I’ll do anything,” he said, holding me tighter. “Just don’t run. Please.”
I forced myself to break free of him, but I put a hand on his shoulder so that he’d look at me when I spoke. In the end I was the one who looked away. With my eyes averted from his, I said, “You’re too late to save me.”
And then I stabbed my knife into his side. He cried out and immediately fell forward against me. I bit back a cry of my own and held him up as best I could. He moved his hand toward the knife.
“Don’t pull it out, whatever you do. I’ve tried to do as little damage as I could, but if you pull this out, you might bleed to death.”
He stumbled back from me, and blood started dripping from his side to the floor.
“Stay still.” I held out my arm and he took it, but he kept us far enough apart to stare into my eyes.
“Why?”
I let go of him, knowing he’d fall to the ground any second. “Do you not know?”
“When I see you again, we will be enemies.” I heard the devastation that fed the monotone of his voice, saw his vacant expression.
“We were never meant to be anything else,” I said. Would I spend the rest of my life trying to believe that lie?
He swayed on his feet. “You don’t believe in fate.”
“You don’t have to believe in fate to see the inevitability of our destruction.”
He didn’t answer and I didn’t walk away either, which created a pit of silence that threatened to pull us both in. Sherlock reached out to grasp my arm again.
“Let me go,” I whispered.
“I could keep you here. I could stop you.”
My eyes stung with fresh tears. “No one could ever keep me, Sherlock. No one ever will.” I could have easily pulled myself free, but I waited until he released me, watched his hand tremble as it dropped to his side. And then I helped him down to the floor and stared out the door of the warehouse, smelled the sea air and my freedom. But the officers had disappeared from the warehouse doorway, and I couldn’t leave until I knew the police would call for help.
I leaned down to whisper in Lock’s ear. “Do you hate me?”
He didn’t answer.
“Will you promise to hate me from now on?”
He opened his mouth to speak, though he’d grown too weak to say my name. And it was just as well, because Mallory had finally found us. I could see him and a few other officers through the side door, running toward us from the other warehouse, though they were too far away to catch me.
I ran to the open door, but turned my head just enough to see Lock one last time in my periphery. And then I sprinted for the ferry, which was already leaving. I pushed through the crowd of boarding passengers, only to refuse to get on at the very last second. Instead, I made my way along the shore.
I skirted the edge of the water until I was on the trail that would lead me to the car I had waiting. I didn’t look back, not even for a moment. That was my gift to myself, my one respite from the shredding pain I felt inside. But I couldn’t keep his name off my lips. As the driver pulled away toward the airport and my flight to Iceland, I vowed two things to myself. First, that I’d never return to the city I loved most. And second, that I’d never again love a boy the way I’d loved Sherlock Holmes.
Acknowledgments
Despite the many hours I spent all alone in my cave/office to make this book happen, I promise you it would not exist without the following people:
To Laurie McLean, my agent and friend. I adore you, and I look forward to partnering with you for all of what comes next. Thank you for everything!
To Catherine Laudone, who jumped in to help me finish this series strong and without taking shortcuts. Your encouraging words kept me going! Thanks to Ylva Erevall and Krista Vossen for my gorgeous covers and to Audrey Gibbons for spreading word of my books to the world. And special thanks to all the other S&S BFYR staff who believe in these books and continue to champion them.
To Kristin Crowley Held and Tracy Clark, who always put up with my chaotic thoughts and ugly drafts. And to Sophie Riggsby, who lets me go on and on about ideas and dreams and wishes, and basically inspires with SophieTime™ whenever we can manage it. I owe you all coffee, and probably dinner. Definitely cocktails after.
To all the bloggers and reviewers, librarians and booksellers who have supported and loved these books. You don’t realize how much you keep me going with your notes and comments and excitement for what comes next. Thank you so much!
And finally, excess love to my family. Your constant support is everything. I love you more than Bob Ross loves happy little trees.
About the Author
© ARI NORDHAGEN
HEATHER W. PETTY has been obsessed with mysteries since she was twelve, which is when she decided that stories about murders in London drawing rooms and English seaside villages were far superior to all other stories. She is the author of the Lock & Mori series. She lives in Reno, Nevada, with her husband, daughter, and four hopelessly devious cats. You can visit her online at heatherwpetty.com.
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Also by Heather W. Petty
Lock & Mori
Mind Games
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2017 by Heather W. Petty
Jacket photograph of people copyright © 2017 by Ylva Erevall
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Petty, Heather, author.
Title: Final fall / Heather W. Petty.
Description: First edition. | New York : Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, [2017]. | Series: Lock & Mori | Summary: Mori escapes captivity in the English countryside and returns to London, where she plots the downfall of her father and his cohorts but discovers that Lock may no longer be an ally.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017015758 | ISBN 9781481423090 (hardback) | ISBN 9781481423113 (eBook)
Subjects: | CYAC: Mystery and detective stories. | Characters in literature—Fiction. | Love—Fiction. | London (England)—Fiction. | England—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.P48 Lo 2015 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017015758
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