by Tessa Clare
“Let’s play again!” Autumn exclaims.
I shake my head. The problem with VR gaming is that it’s exhausting. Unlike Autumn, I can only move my body around so much before I lose energy.
“Have you heard from April?” I ask. It’s close to eight o’clock, so I’m worried that something is wrong.
Autumn shakes her head, but her focus is on adjusting her avatar. I can see her screen on the projector. “No.”
“It’s pretty late. Do you think something is wrong?”
“I don’t know. Obviously, I’m not there.” Her words are bitter, and I’m guessing she isn’t okay with her fate lying in the hands of a bunch of grownups.
I sigh as I set the controller onto the coffee table. Coming from a family of divorced parents, I can relate to her situation. “Where do you want to live?”
Autumn shrugs. “I don’t know. I love our house. I love my sister. But I feel like I’m a burden on her at times.”
“That’s impossible.”
Autumn turns her head back in my direction, momentarily forgetting about the VR headset on her face. “Is it? I’ve known April my whole life.”
“I’ve known her for long enough,” I quip, but a part of me knows that it’s been less than a year since I met her. Still, I refuse to believe that April doesn’t love her sister with all her heart.
“One time, when I was eight, our nanny called in sick,” Autumn says, and I have a feeling that I’m not going to like where this story is heading. “April had a date with this guy that went to her high school – who was a total loser, by the way,” she adds hastily. I think she’s only saying it to appease me. “Anyways, they were going to a movie. My dad was in town, so my parents had to go to some function. My mom and April got into this huge argument over who was going to take me – and April lost because she got stuck taking me along. So, her and her date took me to see this lame kid’s movie. Ten minutes into it, they said that they were going to the bathroom and never came back. I tried calling and texting them for an hour after the movie got out. Eventually, April finally texted me back and said that she’d come and grab me. I was so scared that she left me, though.”
A large part of me wants to defend April. I want to dismiss it as typical sibling antics, but I know that Joe would never intentionally leave me behind. Still, it’s a younger version of her and not the one that I know; though I’m not sure if Autumn will believe me.
I pick up the VR headset from the coffee table, deciding to change the topic. “Let’s see who the champion is, once and for all.”
Before the fight has a chance to begin, the apartment door swings open. I jump to my feet until I realize that it’s April. Tears stain her cheeks. I jump to her side, but I quickly see that she’s not alone. A professionally-dressed brunette appears beside her.
“Autumn,” April croaks. “I’m going to need you to go with Darcy.”
Autumn jumps to her feet. “What? Why?”
“She’s going to take you home,” April explains slowly. “You’re… you’re going to be living with her for a little while.”
Autumn’s eyes widen in horror. “No! I don’t want to go with Darcy! I want to stay in our house and go to my old school and stay with you!” Tears stream down her face. April’s face crinkles in agony.
“Are you abandoning me again?” Autumn whispers.
April winces. “I’m not abandoning you.”
Autumn shakes her head. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“I’m not abandoning you!” April repeats, bringing her voice to a hiss. “I’m not Mom and Dad. Mom left because she wanted to save her skin – and Dad was just, well, Dad!” Autumn’s sniffles immediately cease. “I will get you back.” April shoots a glare in Darcy’s direction. “So, don’t think for a single second that I’m giving up on you. We’re all that we have left.”
Autumn glances between me, April, and Darcy (the latter who looks like she wants to intervene, but is waiting until it’s necessary). Autumn asks, “Do you promise that I’ll get to come home?”
April gets down on one knee and wipes a stray tear from Autumn’s face. “Yes. That house is way too big for one person. I’ll even let you get a cat.” Autumn’s eyes go wide in excitement, causing April to grow nervous. “Um, as long as it stays out of my bedroom – and probably the kitchen and living room are off limits as well.”
“We’ll make it work,” Autumn says, squeezing April’s hand.
“We always do. We’re McIntyre’s.”
“April,” Darcy interjects, resulting in a fiery glare from April. “I hate to cut your moment short, but I have to work early in the morning – plus we still need to grab Autumn’s things.”
“Hang on,” April says, before turning her attention back to Autumn. She brings her voice to a low whisper, preventing Darcy from hearing her. “Right before Mom left, she said something to me.” A small smile crosses her lips. “Actually, she plagiarized my words, but she said: ‘When you have nothing left, you have nothing left to lose.’ I think there’s a point in everyone’s life where they realize that despite their best efforts, they have no choice but to surrender. That carrying on will only bring them more pain or heartache. I don’t think there’s any way that we can avoid these moments. But I just want you to know that I’m not quite there yet.”
She glances back at me, and I realize that she’s not just talking to her sister. She’s talking to me as well, reassuring me that she isn’t done fighting for her right to live and love. And I’m not either.
“I’ll see you soon,” April promises, wrapping her sister in a hug.
Autumn hesitates to leave, but she pulls away with a heavy sigh and makes her way to the doorway. Darcy puts a hand on Autumn’s shoulder, before turning to April. “I wish you the best.”
As soon as the door closes, April glances at me. I’m still thinking about her words to Autumn, and I wonder if she’s going to say something that will resonate with me as much as it did with her. Instead, April takes five steps towards me. Then she collapses into my arms and cries.
As the hours’ pass, April tells me everything that happened in the last several hours – Leonard’s office, the conversation with Neal O’Donnell, Darcy, and, finally, her panic attack.
“I can’t do this, Roman,” she whispers. “Darcy’s right. I’m twenty-years-old. I can’t even hold a minimum wage job. Hell, I can’t even go out in public!”
I stare at her, realizing her words to Autumn are a lie. There’s a very real chance that she made that promise to appease her sister. After spending the last several hours with Autumn, I can’t help but be upset.
“Why would you promise your sister that she’d get to come home?” I ask. In spite of the fact that I have little to do with the situation, I feel betrayed. “You know that she’s going to hold you accountable to it.”
April shakes her head. “Because I’m going to make it happen. It’s just… going to take a bit of time.”
I offer to let April stay in my apartment that night, and she willingly accepts. I imagine the last thing she wants is to go back to a mansion that’s far too big for one person. I give her a dose of allergy medication, and she falls asleep in my arms.
She’s still knocked out when I leave for work the next morning. I kiss her forehead and tell her to text me if she needs anything, but she never does. Instead, when I come home, I find April sprawled in front of the projector.
“You’re still here?” I ask in surprise. It hits me that in the time we’ve been dating (almost half a year, I realize), we’ve never spent more than one consecutive night together – until now.
April turns red. “Sorry – I just… well, I woke up to an empty bed. I was going to get ready to leave, but I was comfortable… and next thing I know, it’s five o’clock…”
I glance at my bathroom. The medicine cabinet door is wide open from April rummaging through it, probably in search of allergy medicine. I walk over to the bathroom to close it. The last thought tha
t crosses my mind is how she’s going to need to get used to not having a CLEO around – and then, I make my way on the couch next to her.
“Do you like Southwestern food?” I ask her.
“Sure, why?”
“Well, I got a text message from the restaurant down the street. The owners think that their computer got hacked. I said I’d look into it, in exchange for free food…”
We spend the next few nights alternating between tacos, burritos, and tostadas. Much like the first night, April falls asleep in my arms. By the third night, she isn’t crying herself to sleep, but she does wake up a few times throughout the night. By the fifth night, I’ve taken to tightening my arms around her whenever I feel her move – mainly out of annoyance that April keeps waking me up, but also because I want to remind her that I’m there for her. She sleeps soundly after that.
On the sixth day, I come home with our last bag of bartered take-out. She’s on a video call with Autumn, who had gone back-to-school shopping that day. Autumn would need to transfer schools, as Darcy lived in a District 230. She’s nervous, as she isn’t going to know anyone at her new school – but April reassures her that she’ll be okay.
“Just tell everyone that you were the most popular girl at your old school,” April advises.
“But I wasn’t.”
“Well, obviously you weren’t. But your new classmates don’t know that.”
Weeks pass. Every morning begins with April curled up in my arms, and every night ends the same way. Once we’ve exhausted our free take-out food, April takes it upon herself to start cooking us dinner (“You need to eat more than boxed meals!”). I’m more than happy to oblige – but it hardly goes well.
The first time, the smoke detector goes off – resulting in my neighbors knocking on my door.
The second time, April misreads a recipe and ends up adding a little too much salt. If I didn’t spend the last twenty-five years battling food scarcity, I would’ve thrown it out. But I suffer through it and insist when I finish that I’m helping her cook next time.
The third time, we agree to cook together. April will chop the vegetables, and I’m going to make sure that nothing gets burnt. As I watch the synthetic beef sizzle in the pan, a thought occurs to me.
“April?”
She stops what she’s doing to glance over at me. “Yeah?”
“I didn’t see your name on the last election report.”
To be honest, that was a couple of weeks ago. Unlike the previous election, I didn’t spend a month agonizing over it, as I was too distracted by work, my houseguest, and the drama with my houseguest’s sister. I mulled over it for a night, but I stopped thinking about it when she didn’t appear on the list the next morning. I can tell that she doesn’t want to think about it, either. She shrugs and turns her attention back to chopping vegetables.
I glance around the apartment. Several of April’s belongings are littered everywhere: her clothes, her computer, and even pictures of her family are stationed on one of the shelves. Another thought occurs to me.
“Are we living together?” I blurt out.
April nearly slices a finger off at that remark. “What?”
I immediately turn red. “I’m not saying you are because we’ve only been dating for, like, seven months? Or is it eight? I mean, I know people that move in around that time, so it’s not a bad thing. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page. To be honest, if we do live together, I’d rather live in your mansion than this crappy apartment –”
“Roman, breathe.”
At April’s instruction, I take a deep breath.
“Better?” she asks.
I nod.
“I can go home tomorrow, if that’s what you want,” April assures me, breaking eye contact. “I guess I’ve probably overstayed my welcome.”
“What?” I ask, confused and not wanting her to leave anytime soon. “No, that’s not what I meant –”
I’m cut off by the sound of sizzling beef and the smell of burnt food. I let out a groan of annoyance that yet another meal is burned. Still, April assures me that it’s our “least crappy” meal yet. To her, that means that we’re making progress.
I leave early the next morning to get an early start. I have three high-priority tickets that need to be resolved, in addition to a handful of tickets that need to be fixed before the week is over.
As I get myself situated, I realize that my desk has a lot more space than I’m accustomed to – likely because something is missing: my laptop. I check my cubicle, hoping that it might appear somewhere. But my computer is nowhere. I know that I didn’t take it home. I also noticed that whoever had taken my laptop had left my file backup drive and charger. Something is wrong.
“Hey, Finn!” I call out as soon as I see my boss walking through the office. “Do you know who took my computer?”
Finn offers me a sympathetic glance. “Gideon is asking to see you.”
Whatever is happening, it isn’t good. I feel a pang in my stomach, as though I’ve been punched. I take the elevator to the top floor and make my way towards Gideon’s office. As soon as I approach the door, I can see my computer lying on Gideon’s desk, in the same spot where I had seen his computer all those months ago. I know what’s happening before I step inside.
“Gideon,” I begin, but Gideon raises a hand to stop me from saying anything further.
“Close the door.”
I obey without complaint, as though the single act would make up for my disobedience in the last several months. I close the door and slink into the nearest chair. Gideon begins slowly, “I gave you an assignment a few months ago. Do you recall what it was?”
“Look into a security breach.”
“Yes,” Gideon acknowledges with a nod. “Do you recall what the findings were?”
I had sent him a report a week after Macy was elected. I never got a response to it, so I assumed that my answer was acceptable. “I said that there was nothing out of the ordinary, sir.”
“Except that was a lie.”
Humiliation overcomes me. I want nothing more than to shrink in my chair and never be seen again.
Gideon points to the computer on my desk. “We were forced to confiscate your computer after rumors emerged that you were involved in a conspiracy.”
I stare at him. I have absolutely nothing to hide. If being with April and trying to keep her safe is a conspiracy, then I’ll happily make my case against any judge. “What conspiracy?”
“The one to bring down the Divinity Bureau,” Gideon states plainly.
Several thoughts occur in that exact moment. It’s never been my intention to bring down the Divinity Bureau. All I want – and all I’ve ever wanted – was to protect the girl I love. Did it mean doing a few dishonest things? It did. But to me, it was a noble cause.
But if the roles reversed – if it were April that worked for the bureau instead of me – the events would have unfolded quite differently. April would have happily taken the information from Gideon’s computer to the press. She would have done everything she could to undermine the Divinity Bureau. She has every reason to hate them. But until now, I didn’t.
Not until this very moment.
“We heard from a few sources that you were involved with April McIntyre,” Gideon continues. “Also, your browser history indicates that you, personally, had her name removed from the first quarter election report. You were at a protest rally.” He crosses his arms and glares at me. “Also, let’s not disregard the fact that you managed to obtain confidential records on your computer! Did you decide to steal my files when I trusted you with my belongings?”
“I…” I begin, but I trail off. I don’t know what to say.
“Interfering with the election report is a misdemeanor,” Gideon continues. “But stealing confidential information, on the other hand, is guaranteed to get you a minimum of ten years. Conspiring to bring down a government agency, on the other hand, will land you there for life. A short one, I
might add.”
My close my eyes, knowing that the moment I’ve been dreading has come. ‘I deserve this,’ I tell myself, crossing my arms and wishing that I could make myself disappear. Everything started with my decision to follow a girl to work.
No, if I’m honest with myself, it started because I’d once been desperate to prove my worth.
But I did. I think of the nights that I’ve held April in my arms. For whatever reason, this strong, magnificent woman thinks I’m her hero.
At that moment, I realize that I did prove my worth. It just wasn’t to the Divinity Bureau.
I stand up from my seat. “You’re the worst at revenge plotting. You know that, right?”
Gideon looks astonished by my words. His eyes quickly narrow, his voice turning to ice. “What did you say, boy?”
I take a deep breath, trying to remember what Macy had told me.
“I know what Henrik McIntyre did to you,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “I have a Master’s Degree in Network Security. Retracing people’s steps is the first thing I do when I diagnose tech support issues. That’s how I managed to figure out that April’s name didn’t show up on that election report by accident. But really, what else can you do to Henrik McIntyre? He’s dead! Seeing his family get elected won’t do anything for him now!”
Gideon lets out a hollow laugh. “Do you think this has anything to do with a twenty-year-old grudge?”
“He ruined your reputation,” I say, crossing my arms. Still, Macy’s explanation is making less sense by the minute, and I’m starting to lose confidence. “And he ruined your chances of taking Nolan Fitz’s job.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, boy!” Gideon hisses. “This is a matter of national security!”
“How?” I ask, pressing for more answers. “She’s a twenty-year-old kid!” A realization hits me. “No. She’s not a danger to national security. She’s a risk to your political power.”
