“Cole said he’s handling it,” I said.
He snorted.
Something about that rankled me. “It’s too dangerous to leave the Ranch right now. He’ll take care of it.”
Zu turned to study me, her expression troubled. I pointed to her plate of pasta, but she still didn’t touch it.
“We could go out,” Liam pressed. “You, me, Vi. Hell, I’d bet Kylie would come—it’ll be like old times.”
Zu reached across the table, gripping his forearm, holding it down against the table. She kept shaking her head, eyes wide. He wasn’t allowed to go. She wasn’t going to let him leave. And secretly, I was glad she was the one telling him so, because I was right there with her. I wanted him here, where he was tucked safely out of harm’s way.
“I’ve done it a hundred times,” he told her softly. “What’s got you like this?”
She released his arm, shrinking back in a way that was very unlike her. I started to ask her what was wrong, only to be interrupted by a frustrated groan.
“Oh, never mind! I’m not even hungry,” Chubs exploded, shoving his plate away from him. There was more sauce down the front of his shirt than there was left on his plate. It turns out it’s fairly difficult to get a fork full of slippery noodles up to your mouth when you were missing the eye part of hand-eye coordination.
When Vida didn’t go in for the kill on that one, I shot a sideways glance in her direction. The whole room vibrated with happy chatter, laughter. Which made Vida’s silence that much more unnerving.
“You shouldn’t have thrown the old lenses away. They weren’t cracked that badly.”
“What was I supposed to do?” Chubs snapped. “Tape them to my face? Walk around holding one up to my eye like a magnifying glass?”
“Wouldn’t that have been better than sulking around and blindly bumping into things?” I asked. He’d gone off earlier and pitched them into a trash can in hopeless frustration. I’d fished them out and brought them back to the sleeping room for when he calmed down and started thinking rationally again. “We can ask Cole about getting glasses added to our supplies list,” I said.
“The lenses are prescription,” Chubs said sharply. “I don’t have the information, even if he could get them made. Reading glasses aren’t strong enough, and they give me a headache when I wear them too long—”
Vida slid something across the table, never once looking up from her plate of pasta. Chubs must have thought it was some kind of utensil, otherwise I have no idea why he didn’t immediately snatch the glasses up.
The frames were about the same size and shape that his old ones had been. The lenses stuck out, not by any means a perfect fit, but close enough. I opened them and slid them onto his face and Chubs practically reared back in surprise, patting them in disbelief.
“Wait—what—this—these are—”
“Don’t lose your shit,” Vida said, casually raking her fork through her spaghetti. “Dolly had an extra pair of reading glasses and helped me switch out the lenses for yours. They look just as stupid as the other ones did, but you can at least see, yeah?”
Chubs and I both stared at her, stunned.
“Vi...” I began.
“What?” Her pitch rose slightly on the word, coming out as a bark. More insecure than angry. “I got tired of being his seeing-eye dog. It made me feel like an ass**le for laughing every time he tripped or walked into something—and I don’t like feeling like an ass**le all the time, okay?”
“It’s so hard to go against our nature—” Chubs started.
“He means thank you,” I said, cutting him off. “That was really thoughtful, Vi.”
“Yeah, well.” God, she was embarrassed. I took another bite to hide my smile. “I didn’t save the starving children of Africa or anything. He breaks this pair, he’s SOL.”
“Wait, what?” Liam’s startled voice broke clean through our conversation. He slid the paper Zu had been scribbling messages on closer to him. “Are you sure? I mean, positive? Why didn’t you tell me before?
Zu reached across the table and took the paper back out of his hands. He was too impatient to let her finish writing the words out and awkwardly leaned across the table, his eyes scanning the words as fast as she could put them down.
I thought you would leave to find them. I’m sorry.
“Oh, man,” he said, dropping a hand on her head. “I wouldn’t have. I won’t. You don’t have to be sorry, I get it. But are you sure? It just seems like such a coincidence—”
He stilled suddenly, looking a little sick to his stomach at whatever she wrote down next. “That sounds like her...But how did it even happen? What were you doing in Arizona?”
Chubs waved a hand in front of his friend’s face. “Care to share?”
“Zu...” Liam pressed a fist to the base of his throat and rubbed it for a moment. “Apparently on the way over to California, Zu crossed paths with my mom....I’ve been trying to figure out where they’ve been in hiding.”
Zu was still pale, watching Liam closely, like she didn’t quite believe him. I sat back, the flicker of concern turning into an all-out flame. Before, we’d always made it a priority to keep the four of us together as a unit. It was rare for us to split off, and even then, no one was really ever left alone. I could understand the rush of feeling that came with being back together, wanting to make up for lost time. But this desperation I saw in her, the way she always seemed to be tracking us, making sure we were still there, made my heart feel like it was tearing itself into pieces.
What had happened to her? Zu wasn’t normally scared or even all that anxious as a person—at least, she hadn’t been. Someone had done this to her, exposed every last nerve. Left her wide open and raw.
“Because they caught heat from Gray’s lapdogs after you broke your stupid ass out of that camp?” Vida asked, with her usual sensitivity.
“Why Arizona?” I asked. “Or, I guess a random choice is a good a choice as any?”
Zu was furiously scribbling something down, looking up only to shoot an exasperated look at us when we crowded over her. Liam put his hands up. “At your leisure, ma’am.”
When she did finish, it wasn’t at all what I was expecting. And judging by how Liam’s face lost the remainder of its color, it wasn’t what he was expecting, either.
They’re hiding kids in their house—protecting them. She used the name you gave me, Della Goodkind, but I knew it was her because she looks and talks like you. I told her you were safe.
“Oh, God,” Chubs said when I spun the paper his way. “Why am I not surprised? Your whole family fell from the crazy tree and hit every damn branch on the way down.”
Zu knocked her pencil against the end of his nose in reproach before continuing in her big, looping handwriting. It was just for a few minutes, but she was really nice.
Liam was like a starving kid stumbling across someone’s picnic basket. “Did she say anything else? Was Harry there with her? You said she’s been helping kids, but did she ask you if you wanted to stay? Or any of the other girls? Is that what happened to Talon?”
“Which of those questions did you want answered first?” Chubs asked. “Because I think you just crammed ten into two seconds.”
Zu shrank back against her chair. The pencil rolled off the table and into her lap as her eyes drifted down to where her fingers were busy rolling up the hem of her shirt.
“Kylie said Talon didn’t make it to California,” I said carefully. “Did someone hurt him? Did he...?”
“Did the kid croak?” There was a steel-cut edge to Vida’s voice. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I supposed to act like the rest of them and treat you like you’re a baby? You need me to coat everything in cotton candy? Or can you be a big girl?”
Liam flushed with anger. “Enough—”
“You have no idea what you’re even talking about!” Chubs growled.
“That’s not fair—” I began.