And pulling Sadie with her, collapsed backward to the floor.
Sadie rolled off her and staggered sideways, gasping for breath. She stared at Catrina, who was lying on her back with one foot dangling off the building’s edge and something bright orange sticking out of her neck.
Curtis stood next to her. “I told you Miranda was a good shot,” he said, as Miranda Roque, sporting an elegant cream pantsuit and a shotgun under her arm, appeared from behind one of the columns.
Miranda looked at him sadly. “Go wait in the car.”
“But Moth—”
“Go,” she said harshly, and just like that, he went.
“Thank you,” Sadie said.
Miranda smiled. “I couldn’t let her kill the only person in five years to get into the subconscious.” She gestured with the gun. “Would you mind checking her pulse? Don’t want a murder on my hands.”
“Another,” Sadie couldn’t keep from saying.
Miranda rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes.”
Sadie bent. “It feels slow but strong.”
Miranda’s gaze rested on Catrina fondly. “I used the kind for antelopes, not cheetahs. She’s more prey than wild cat, I think, despite her nickname.” She looked up. “Interesting about names, isn’t it? We don’t realize how they define us. Your subject, for example. Ford Winter. Did you notice how many of his memories and emotions, especially the important ones, involved ice and snow?”
“They were linked to specific events,” Sadie pointed out.
“There’s a reason they resonated for him.”
“That’s—” A shiver swept over Sadie. “How did you know? And that I’d seen his subconscious? Have you been in his mind?”
“Always like to do a quick walk-through after a cleaning to make sure it looks okay. I’m afraid we had to remove all traces of you. Not just the past two days; we did a complete detailing to make sure there wasn’t any foreign matter inside. Emergency protocol.”
Sadie had been ready for that, knew they would have wiped Ford’s mind of her, but it still gave her a sharp pang of sadness. Nothing remained of what they’d shared, what he’d said or maybe felt when he was with her. She was gone from his life, irrevocably and completely, forever. “I expected that.”
“I figured,” Miranda said drily. “Don’t blame me. You knew the rules.”
“I did. But by those same rules, you know I have to report the murder I saw. And I have proof it was Curtis.”
“That’s why I’m here. I thought maybe we could come to an understanding.”
More gaps were filling in Sadie’s mind. “That’s why you went against the Committee and sent me back. To protect Curtis. You didn’t want me to report what I saw—just the opposite. You knew I’d never turn him in if I thought I was turning Ford in. Somehow you knew how I felt about Ford before I did.”
“It came off you in waves. You’re lucky. Not many people experience that.”
Sadie didn’t feel lucky. “Curtis was one of the Perfect Garden orphans, wasn’t he?”
“‘Thing of darkness I acknowledge mine,’” Miranda quoted. “He and Plum were. Babies, the last two. When the state closed down the Perfect Garden they didn’t even count to see if they had gotten everyone. And I was the one endangering children?” Her eyes had sparks in them. “They were such a delight. So curious and determined.”
“You implanted both of them with chips.” Which was why Willy hadn’t been able to find Ford when he spent the night at Plum’s, Sadie realized.
“Of course,” Miranda said. “How could I do it to someone else’s child if I wouldn’t do it to my own? And it seemed only fair to have a Subject running Mind Corps.”
Sadie thought of how many of her friends’ parents made exceptions for their own children without blinking. Sadie admired Miranda’s code, even if she couldn’t agree with its substance. Keeping her eyes on Miranda’s still handy gun, Sadie said, “You mentioned a deal.”
“Simple. You don’t hurt what I love, and I won’t hurt what you love.”
“Meaning I don’t turn Curtis in, and you leave Ford and the Winters alone forever?” Sadie considered it. Thought about Miranda’s version of justice, about how she was willing to go to any length to shield Curtis. “Substitute ‘protect’ for ‘not hurt’ and you’ll have a deal,” Sadie said. “You protect what I love, and I protect what you love.”
That earned her a flash of a smile. “Sadie, short for Sophia,” Miranda said. “The goddess of wisdom. Your parents named you well.”
“Now what happens? To Curtis?”
“He’ll take a vacation abroad. And of course all the killing and whatnot will stop. I never thought he was capable of—” She swallowed hard, and Sadie thought she was genuinely upset. “Mind Corps is still valuable. I’m not giving up on that.”
Sadie nodded. Pushed herself off the pillar and said, “Well, goodbye.”
Miranda tilted her head to one side. “For now. I have a feeling we’ll be working together in the future, Ames.”
Sadie shook her head. “I can’t imagine the circumstances.”
“It’s never a bad thing to have a good shot on your side.”
Sadie made her way to the freight elevator and paused before getting on. “How did you know where to find me?”
Miranda laughed. “You don’t think Subjects are the only ones who can be tracked, do you? Someone’s got to mind the Minders.”
EPILOGUE
FIRST SATURDAY OF AUGUST
She went.
She knew it was futile, but she went anyway. The first year it was a sunny, picture-perfect day, the water on the lake sparkling, endless double rows of footsteps in the sand as couples roamed up and down the beach. She thought at one point she saw him but was wrong, and she’d gone home aching, swearing not to try again.
She went the next year too. There was a freak rainstorm, and seeing she was the only person on the beach, she’d taken off all her clothes and lay down in the sand just to see how it made her feel. She wished he’d been there. She wondered what he was doing and if he ever dreamed of the tree house.
The year after, back from her first year as a psych major in college, Decca made her come to a performance of a new play she was starring in instead. The play was in an open-air theater, and when Sadie arrived she’d almost fainted. It was Bucky’s theater, still overgrown and lovely, but restored enough to be usable.
Sadie’s vision felt like it was vibrating between past and present—that’s where Ford and Bucky had stood, that’s the catwalk they ran over, there’s Ford with a group of people and a pregnant woman, that’s the—
Her eye moved back. It was him. With his arm around a pretty dark-haired woman who was definitely having a baby. Good for him, Sadie told herself, looking for a place to hide.
Mason loped over to the group, grabbed the woman, and kissed her in a way that made it clear she was his and no one else’s. Good for Mason, Sadie thought, good for everyone, my god, it’s him.
He looked 200 percent better than even her best imagination had painted him, the same but a little more lived in, more rugged. His smile hadn’t changed, though, the capacity to be mischievous or boyish, a dimple that could tease you coming and going.
“Are you going to say hello?”
Sadie turned to see a girl with impish blue eyes and blond chin-length hair. “Lulu?”
“Mostly Louisa now,” she said with a smile that started bold but ended shy. “So? Are you?”