want this guy watching, so figure something out.”
When I pulled back, irritation and admiration warred in his eyes. I gave him a languorous smile, one full of promises meant for someone else. “Showtime, remember? Sell it.”
His grip tightened for a minute, and then he stood up, drawing me closer, dipping his head so that his words resonated against my neck. “I’m not a messenger boy.”
“Then stop telling me to send a message.” I faked a giggle. “Let’s go save the world.”
“Take a last look,” he said. “You going to miss this place?”
I pictured Eliot and me testing his maps, making fun of our classmates, planning Walks and swapping stories and arguing about movies. I pictured years of watching Simon without being seen, and the few brief weeks where his eyes followed me. When he’d taken my hand and led me away, and I’d believed, only for a moment, in happy endings.
“Some of it, I suppose. Mostly not.”
“Keep the good memories,” he advised. “The other stuff is deadweight. Regret only slows you down.”
• • •
Later that night I stopped by Eliot’s and found him tinkering with the Free Walkers’ technology, exactly as he’d said he would. The familiar sight of him, hunched over the keyboard, cajoling the software to behave, swamped me with nostalgia.
“How many times is this?” I teased from the doorway. “A thousand?”
“Thousand and one,” he muttered.
“You can hack a baby monitor to play HBO,” I said. “You’ve got this.”
He shrugged and went back to hunting and pecking. I looked over his shoulder at the stream of computer gibberish and then flopped back on the bed.
“I can’t decide if I like him more or less than the old one,” he said abruptly.
“Definitely less,” I said, staring at the ceiling.
“But that makes me like him more,” he replied.
“You’re not making sense.”
He turned to face me. “You like him less, because he’s not the one you want. But since I wasn’t a big fan of the Original—or the Echo, or whatever we’re calling the Simon who started this whole mess—this guy seems like an improvement.”
“Really?” I propped myself on my elbows.
“Well, I could do without the whole prison break,” he said. “Addie’s right, you know. It’s not going to work. And it’s not worth your life.”
“Does that mean you won’t help?”
“This is a no-win situation for me. If I help you, I lose you. If I don’t, you end up dead.” He threw his arms wide. “The only way to save you is to stop you.”
I sat up fully now, temper rising. “I don’t need to be saved. Try it and see how far I run.”
He drew back as if I’d slapped him. “You’re asking a lot, you know.”
“Then forget I asked.” I reached for my backpack and he tugged it away.
“Right,” he scoffed. “I’ll forget how my best friend went on a suicide mission because I wouldn’t help her. I told you I’m in, and I’m in. But quit asking me to be happy about it.”
“I wish you’d come with me. After.”
“Never going to happen,” he said gently. “My life’s here.”
“But we’re a team.” It wasn’t enough of a reason, and I knew it, but I couldn’t help asking. “Always have been . . .”
“Always will be. Exploring’s your thing. I’m the navigator, and that means I stay behind.”
“But you could . . .”
He touched my cheek, equal amounts of regret and resolve in the gesture. “I’m nice, Del. But I’m not that nice.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
MY PARENTS WERE WAITING FOR me when I arrived home, wearing the expectant look that typically signaled I’d screwed up.
“What did I do?”
“Nothing,” my dad said, too quickly. “We haven’t gotten much time with you lately.”
I wondered if Addie had prompted this sudden desire for quality time. But I’d promised I would try to talk to my parents, and considering how much time they were spending at work, this might be my only chance.
“Are you hungry?” my mom asked. “I can fix you some leftovers.”
“What’s going on?”
“I wasn’t sure you’d eaten.” She bristled. “Forgive me for wanting to make sure you had at least one healthy meal.”
My dad laid a hand on her arm. “Winnie.”
She took a deep breath. “Councilman Lattimer paid me a visit today.”
“Oh?” Somehow I managed to go hot and cold at the same time.
She busied herself assembling a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. “He wants you to visit your grandfather tomorrow.”
I pushed away from the island. “Tomorrow? That’s too soon!”
“I know you’re not looking forward to it, but the Consort needs to