by Sophie Davis
“Says you,” I muttered under my breath.
“Until I saw those video files on the USB drive, we didn’t know the whole story about Kingstown and Jonas. We didn’t know that Phillip Kingsley was running some sort of Stepford community up in Canada. We didn’t know that he was covering up the murder of a teenage boy. Now we do.”
“Asher, this is all very fascinating, but what’s your point?”
“My point is: David will use this information against the Kingsleys. He doesn’t want you to expose the truth to the world. He will use what you know as leverage, to blackmail your parents.”
It was a possibility I should have considered and given more time I probably would have reached the same conclusion. Still, I felt ill and stumbled to sit on the edge of the bed.
“So, so what? Is he pulling the plug on this D.C. experiment? Are you—are you taking me back to Montauk?” I tried to swallow the panic rising in my throat like bile, but I sounded hysterical—I felt hysterical—when I said, “You can’t. I’m not ready. I need to finish what Lark started. I promised.”
Asher came to sit beside me and took my hand. “No termination order has been given. As of right now, the plan is to let you keep moving forward. But David doesn’t intend on letting you expose any truths, except to him.”
I glanced at our joined hands. “Why are you telling me this?” I whispered.
Was I being paranoid? Or was it a little odd that Asher chose to go behind his boss’ back? Telling me the truth put his job at risk.
“What happened in Kingstown, what is still happening in Kingstown, is wrong, Raven. Phillip and Eleanor Kingsley, at the very least, have been complicit in a boy’s murder. If I continue to aid in the coverup, I’m just as bad as they are.” Asher stared at me beseechingly. “I don’t want that on my conscience.”
Is he telling me the truth? Is this another lie? A trick to get me to…what?
“What do you suggest we do?” I asked carefully.
Asher exhaled, seemingly relieved that I wasn’t openly questioning his motives. “Not everything I told you was a lie. I do know an FBI agent who might be able to help us. If I can setup a meeting, would you be willing to talk to him?”
I couldn’t answer right away. When I thought this was about exposing someone else’s deep, dark family secrets, my only hesitancy over involving the authorities was because Lark had said they couldn’t help—that they wouldn’t help. But now I knew the truth. The deep, dark family secrets were my own. Exposing Eleanor and Phillip Kingsley and their dastardly deeds meant exposing my parents. Yes, they screwed up massively. And yes, they deserved to make amends. The people of Kingstown, Jonas in particular, deserved justice. But was I prepared to send my own parents to prison? Was that want Lark wanted?
“Raven?” Asher asked.
“Yeah, I’m still here. Just thinking,” I replied hurriedly. Releasing his hand, I wiped my palms on my sleep shorts as I stood. “I need some time to think about this. Is that okay? I mean, you said that David had no plans to bring me back to Montauk yet, right? So we have time?”
“Some time,” Asher warned. “But not a lot. You’re close to the entire truth. I don’t know how much more there is to learn.”
“We haven’t solved all the clues yet,” I pointed out.
Asher looked confused, and I realized I had yet to tell him about Lark’s letter and the new riddles. Should I tell him now? Can I trust him? Do I have a choice? The longer I stayed away from the Institution and David, the longer I had to decide on an endgame. Once David reeled me back to New York, all memory of me, Raven Ferragamo, Jonas, Kingstown, and who knew what else, could be erased. How long would it take Lark to get back to this point? Would the truth ever come out?
In her letter, Lark said time was one commodity even our money couldn’t buy. But if Asher, and by extension David, knew there were more clues to solve, it would give us more time. Taking a deep breath, I told Asher about the riddles. He, of course, wanted to see the letter. Against my better judgment, I let him. Asher read the contents several times before commenting.
“When did you read this originally? Is this the letter you found in the apartment?” he demanded frantically.
“Huh?” Shit, between finding out that Lark, Lila, and I shared one body and that our parents were responsible for at least one murder, and had us institutionalized to cover their tracks, I’d sort of forgotten about the letter I’d found in the apartment just before going to follow Asher.
“No, this was in the envelope Darrell gave me the other day,” I replied.
“When did you read it?” Asher repeated.
“That night. After you and Blake went to bed. Why?” Was that really the most important question right now?
“Okay, this is good, actually.” Asher smiled for the first time that morning as he handed the letter back to me. “This is really good. This buys us time. You said you solved the first riddle?”
I nodded. “Last night.” Then I explained about how I’d deciphered the gibberish and gone back through the Lark’s journals for mentions of the necklace. “So, what’s our next move?” I asked when I was finished.
Asher stood and started for the bedroom door. “I need to take care of some stuff. For right now, just stay here at The Pines. I’ll be back in a few hours.” With that, he left.
I intended to follow his instructions. I really did. But curiosity was a hard demon to ignore, and just a few short hours later, I was one of the first people through the doors of the Smithsonian’s Natural History Museum.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LARK
“Good afternoon, Lila.”
“Hello, David,” I replied, crossing my legs at the ankles, and settling into the lounge chair. My eyes were closed, but I could picture David leaning back in his seat with his fingers clasped over his paunch. I felt his muddy eyes on my face, studying my expression with the practiced eye of a therapist.
“How are you today?” His tone was deceptively mild, as though we were casual acquaintances enjoying a mundane conversation.
“Do you really care?” I countered, having no patience for chitchat—that wasn’t why David had yanked me from the darkness.
“Your wellbeing is very important to me,” he said evenly.
I rolled my eyes behind closed lids. “We’ve known each other a long time, David. So let’s cut the shit. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been working overtime lately and this little session is disturbing my peace and quiet, which I could really use right now.”
“I have noticed.” The chair squeaked as David readjusted. “This stay has been particularly difficult for Lark, hasn’t it?”
“Stay?” I scoffed. “We aren’t at a spa. This isn’t a vacation.”
“No, it is not,” he agreed. “But that is not an answer.”
“I thought the question was rhetorical.”
David didn’t respond, a common tactic he used in his therapy sessions. Normally, I waited him out. The human need to fill awkward silences was lost on me. But I didn’t want to prolong this interlude any longer than necessary, so I obliged the doctor.
“Of course it’s hard on her,” I snapped. “No one likes being institutionalized.”
“On Lark’s last two visits to Montauk, she was much more…engaged. Why is that, in your opinion?”
“Do you really need to ask? It’s obvious, isn’t it? She’s pissed. The sperm donor and momzilla she calls parents had her committed against her wishes.”
“It was Phillip and Eleanor’s decision to send Lark to Montauk previously,” David responded, managing to make the statement sound less argumentative than it was. “They are trying to get their daughter the help she needs, Lila. I know you are aware of this fact.”
“They are trying to silence their daughter,” I corrected him. “They are trying to keep her naïve to cover their own asses.”
“Now, Lila, you are not being fair. Lark’s parents care a great deal about their daughter. This is something w
e have established.” David’s tone was still level, almost flat, but for the first time I detected an underlying hint of something…more.
I’m not supposed to have my own opinions, I reminded myself. My role in Lark’s life was very specific, defined by David. His opinions were meant to be mine where Lark was concerned, anyhow. In the beginning, that had been true. I bought the lies without question. But that had changed years ago, not long after Raven’s arrival. Asking for my opinion on a topic was David’s way of testing me, of making sure I was still a good soldier. Openly criticizing the Kingsleys and their motives was a mistake. I needed to be more careful, otherwise I wouldn’t be around to protect Lark.
“I did not ask you here today to argue, Lila,” he said.
I laughed aloud and embraced the brass attitude I was known for. “Then get to the point, David. Why am I here?”
This time, his long pause wasn’t intentional—at least not in the usual way. The doctor wasn’t hoping I’d keep talking. Instead, I got the impression he was searching for the best way to broach a sensitive subject.
True to my nature, I started bobbing my foot impatiently and opened my eyes, so David wouldn’t miss my dramatic eye roll. “Why am I here, David?” I repeated pointedly.
Sitting on a high-backed stool beside my chair, the doctor leaned forward and met my gaze. This must be serious, I thought. A shiver ran down my spine. Fear, I realized, which was a new emotion for me. I’d experienced it secondhand via Lark and I had been scared for her before, but this was different. Me, Lila Queensbridge, was scared.
“Who is she, Lila?” David asked softly, using his patented coaxing tone that was meant to put patients at ease and make them feel safe.
I didn’t feel either.
“Who is who?” I retorted flippantly.
Is it possible he knows about Raven?
David studied my face, searching for facial tics and muscle twitches, any sign of deception. The joke was on him, though. After years of therapy, I’d mastered the blank expression shrinks practiced in the mirror.
“The new girl,” he said after a long moment.
“You mean Kitty? That moron who arrived two days ago? I couldn’t say. Her incessant sobbing grates my nerves. I’ve avoided her like an incurable disease,” I replied in a tone that was both bored and irritated.
“Lila.” David said my name like a warning. “That is not who I meant, and I think you know it.”
Propping myself up on one elbow, I was eye-level with the doctor. “Did I mention I’m tired. I did. So let’s stop the stupid games. Who are you talking about? What do you want to know?”
Again, David took his sweet time answering. And again, it was clear he was uncertain of the best way to proceed.
“The best way forward is straight through the middle,” I reminded him, reciting one of his favorite sayings.
“The new ego—who is she?”
He does know. How?
David straightened and reached for a syringe on the counter behind him. At the last instant, his hand shifted slightly. Instead of grabbing the needle, his fingers began tapping out a tune.
“You will not lie,” he said, voice quiet but intense.
Where are the cotton balls when I need them?
“Oh, please,” I scoffed. “You can stop with the theatrics.”
He continued drumming the counter. The melody was impossible to block out. Nonetheless, I fought the verbal vomit about to spew from my lips.
Think. You can spin this. This bastard will not ruin our plans.
“What do you want to know, precisely?” I asked as David increased the tempo.
“Her name.”
My lips were moving as though pulled by invisible strings. “Raven.”
“Last name?” David pressed.
“Ferragamo.”
“How long has she been a part of the family?”
Damn, he’s good, I thought. David’s trick with the finger tapping only worked if he asked a direct question with a definitive answer. Open-ended questions gave me the opportunity to stall or, in rare circumstances, lie by omission.
“A little over four years,” I replied.
After a quick mental calculation—math was clearly not a requirement for those who majored in mad science—David nodded like he should’ve anticipated as much.
“Did she arrive after the incident in Ms. Edelmen’s class?” he asked, though he obviously knew the answer.
“Yes,” I confirmed.
“A pure ego,” he muttered excitedly, momentarily forgetting the only reason I was being so forthcoming was because of the song he was playing on the counter like it was a piano.
As soon as his fingers stopped moving, breathing became easier. Think. Use this to your advantage. Hope is not lost. David was still looking at me, but he didn’t appear to see me any longer. His eyes were more alive than I’d ever seen them, possibilities dancing in his irises like dollar signs on a cartoon character.
I used the respite to wrack my brain for ideas. With my head clear, one came to me: Raven was our ticket out of here. I just needed to handle the situation with kid gloves, handle David with kid gloves. It’s a balancing act. If I was too eager, he’d become suspicious.
David’s fingers started going again. “What is her awareness level?” he asked.
“Zero,” I replied.
Glee colored his pale cheeks with two rosy spots. “Wonderful. This is unprecedented.”
Wonderful? A fractured psyche is wonderful? Disgusting pig.
The finger tapping stopped again, just long enough for David to restart his metronome.
“Lay back, Lila. Relax,” he instructed.
“No. You can’t speak to her yet,” I shot back, fear making my skin crawl for the second time in our session.
His fingers drummed faster, the tempo almost frantic.
“I can, and I will.” In a firm voice, he added, “Now, lay back.”
Slowly, I lowered first my back and then my head, turning my focus inward.
Raven? Raven, are you there?
Our newest member didn’t respond, but that was normal. She preferred the darkness. I could feel her, though. In the blackest shadows of the deepest recesses of our shared mind, she was there.
I can’t stop this, but I will be here with you the entire time.
“Start with your toes…,” David began his spiel.
I’d heard it so many times, I didn’t need his guidance to enter a trance-like state.
One appendage at time, my body became heavier and heavier, until I felt as though I’d melted into the chair beneath me.
“Let go. Let go of all thought, all feeling,” David continued.
What’s happening? Raven’s voice sounded small, afraid.
It’s time, I told her as Raven began to struggle.
“Lila?” David whispered.
Don’t fight it, I pleaded with her. It will be easier for all of us if you just let it happen.
I don’t…I can’t…don’t make me.
She was stronger than I’d anticipated. Even once I pulled her into the driver’s seat, she continued to fight. In the absence of another pilot, Lark as our priority ego would normally have surfaced. But she was too scared, too angry to come out of hiding. I couldn’t have reached even if I’d been willing to force her into the light.
You are not a coward, Raven. Stop acting like one, I ordered her. It’s time to put on your big girl thong and take the reins. You promised Lark you would always be there for her. Now’s the time to prove your loyalty.
One of the words in my diatribe must have been magical. She emerged from the darkness with her head held high, wearing her cool detachment like it was the new black. With a heavy sigh, I gave our body over to her control. Then, as though someone had finally found me those cotton balls and stuffed them inside my ears, I heard David’s garbled greeting.
“Hello, Raven. My name is David, and I have been waiting to meet you for a very long time.”
; CHAPTER NINETEEN
RAVEN
If that’s a fake, it looks awfully real, I thought as I gazed at the Kingsley Diamond in its protective glass box. The red center stone glittered beneath the overhead lights, angled just right for maximum shine. The creamy white pearls were perfectly round, perfectly symmetrical, and looked like drops of iridescent milk against the black, velvet cushion beneath the necklace.
“Hard to believe that was dug up out of the dirt,” a male voice interrupted my thoughts.
I smiled but didn’t turn. “How did you find me?” I asked after a long moment.
The guy took several steps closer and whispered in my ear. “Not sure if you’ve heard, but my boyfriend is pretty good with computers,” Adam said in a conspiratorial tone.
I laughed. “Gabe hacked my phone?”
Adam looked surprised. “Do you…do you remember meeting Gabe?”
“No, all I know about him I read in Lark’s journal,” I fessed up.
“Right. Of course.” Clearly disappointment but trying to cover it, he moved to stand side by side with me and admire the Kingsley Diamond. “I tried calling, Blake gave me your cell number, but you weren’t answering.”
“A few missed phone calls warrants having your boyfriend track my cell? Who are you, Asher?” I teased, but then remembered Adam didn’t know the whole story with Asher. Or maybe he did, because he just smiled.
“Well, I needed to talk to you,” he replied.
I turned away from the fake diamond and raised an eyebrow. “Montauk?”
Adam’s smile faded, and his expression suddenly turned serious. “Montauk,” he repeated.
“So I’m guessing you spoke to your father last night? That was fast,” I said as we began to walk through the gem exhibit.
Adam hesitated, stopping briefly in front of a pair of emerald earrings supposedly once owned by Marie Antoinette, and pretended to admire the jewelry. “I called him, but he and my mother were at a charity thing last night and he couldn’t talk. I’ll speak with him tonight at the latest. That is,” he glanced around as though afraid the display cases might have ears, “if you still want me to.”
