and whitecaps to the horizon line, knowing that it was just an illusion, that it would always be out of reach no matter how far you traveled, how hard you tried to get there. “You don’t know anything about me,” she said.
“I know you grew up in a group home. I know what happened to you at Berkeley, and I know you shouldn’t have been the only one punished.”
She bit back a response, angry at him for knowing her secrets. She’d needed someone to say that years ago, when it could have actually helped her. Now? They were just empty words.
He continued. “I think you’re a good person who was forced to make an impossible choice. Help me help you.”
Eva stared at him, trying to make him believe she was still considering it, letting the silence spool out between them. She knew enough about life to know that the minute you agreed to something—whether it was making drugs for a football player or a drug dealer, or turning evidence over to the feds—they stopped trying to take care of you as soon as you said yes.
Agent Castro continued. “If you don’t cooperate, we will prosecute you. Immunity will disappear, and I won’t be able to do anything for you once that happens. You’ll go to jail, for a very long time.”
Eva thought she had enough for Castro, but the minute she handed it over, he wouldn’t have to promise her anything. “If you can give me what I’m asking for, we might be able to come to an agreement,” she said.
“I’ll do my best.”
Eva hugged her arms tight against her body and said, “I assume you’ll keep following me. I have to ask that you not make things difficult. You seem to think Fish is a midrange dealer, but if he finds out we talked, he’ll kill me, and then you’ll have nothing.”
* * *
She barely registered the return drive to Berkeley, her mind taking over, sifting through her options and next steps. Regardless of what Castro might be able to do for her, she needed to be ready to walk away from all of it—Berkeley, her house, her job. And Liz.
Eva arrived home after dark, the lights in Liz’s apartment warm and inviting. She paused to touch the soft branches of their tree, empty of decorations now, waiting for another Christmas that would never arrive. Would Liz imagine Eva here, decorating it alone? Would she try to call Eva and wonder why she never answered her phone? Come back to visit friends and find Eva gone, her apartment abandoned? Eva knew what that was like, to feel the ragged strands of unanswered questions, tickling the back of your mind, tormenting your quietest moments with why.
As if she’d conjured her, Liz appeared, opening her door and peering out at Eva, still standing next to the tree. “What are you doing out there?”
Eva looked at her, framed by the bright rectangle of light, and didn’t answer.
Liz took a step out onto the porch, her smile fading as she caught Eva’s expression. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You look upset.”
“No, just tired.”
Liz looked as if she wanted to say something, but hesitated. Finally, she said, “When are you going to tell me what’s really going on with you? Whenever I ask, you give me nonanswers. Or tell me you’re tired. But that’s not it. Why won’t you talk to me?”
“I talk to you. All the time.”
Liz shook her head. “No. You tell me things that have already happened. That are already over. But I know almost nothing about your days. Nothing about what you struggle with. What worries you. Why you’re not sleeping. Out of nowhere, a man appears, fighting with you. Then I never hear of him or see him again.” She took a deep breath. “No, Eva. You don’t talk to me. You don’t even trust me.”
“You’re reading too much into things,” Eva said, hating how she sounded. Patronizing. Dismissive. When what she wanted, more than anything, was to throw herself at Liz’s feet and beg her to fix it. To help her.
Liz’s voice was low as she stepped all the way onto the porch and crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought we were friends. But you lie to me. All the time. About where you go. What you do. Who you spend time with. I’m not stupid. I pay attention. I hear you at night, on the phone sometimes. Arguing. With that guy?” Liz gave a thin