once upon a time, we’d been friends. Before she knew who I was. I wanted to remind her that I’m not just a monster. I thought she’d . . .”
“Be your friend again?”
He shrugged, looking away. “I guess.”
Part of Nita wanted to yell at him, to berate him for his naivety and stupidity. For risking everything so that he might look better in a childhood friend’s eyes. But the other part of her just felt sorry for Kovit, for his shitty life and his shitty friends and his sad, small attempts to be good going terribly wrong.
Sometimes, she felt like both of them were damned no matter what they did, good or bad. That any choice they made led to ruin.
But she couldn’t let herself think that way. There’s was always a way to victory. Always a path to survival. Maybe it was ugly and painted in blood and grief, but it was there. She believed it. She had to believe it.
She put her hand over his gently. “It’s okay, Kovit.”
He looked at her, his eyes dark. “I’m so sorry, Nita. I never meant for this to happen.”
“I know,” she whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I know. But it’s okay. It’s an extra complication, but we’ve faced worse. And even if your location is out, so what? People are questioning the entire validity of the list right now. It won’t be long until a full-scale investigation is launched.”
He perked up. “Really?”
“Really.” She handed him her phone with all the articles. “Take a look.”
He did, scrolling through the information, body loosening the more he read. Nita took the time to wash and get dressed as she mentally prepared for the next stage of her plan. All these things were distractions, Kovit, the list, all of it. She had come to Buenos Aires for two reasons: Alberto Tácunan and Zebra-stripes.
And today she was going to destroy them both.
She dressed and went out to the main room. Fabricio was still sleeping, but he woke when she entered the room and watched her through slitted eyes.
“Off somewhere?”
“Taking care of something. Kovit and I will be gone most of the night.” She pulled out the duct tape and smiled at Fabricio. “You know what that means.”
Fabricio gave a long-suffering sigh. “Can I go to the bathroom first?”
She let him, and afterward, duct-taped him back to the couch.
Kovit came out a few minutes later, looking much calmer and more put together. He was wearing the sunglasses, and he’d used water to slick his hair into a smooth part that made him look older. It wasn’t the best disguise Nita had ever seen, but it hit the main points. Kovit was shorter and darker, so he might be able to pass as Latin American with his eyes covered. Definitely not Argentinian, though—he moved through the world in a different way. Nita did too. It was like the city had a rhythm, and she and Kovit were walking to a different song, always a step off beat.
But the hairstyle aged him, as did his serious expression, making him easily able to pass for late twenties instead of the twenty and a few months he actually was. She was hopeful that even if he couldn’t blend in, at least it wouldn’t be obvious who he really was.
“Are we ready?” he asked.
Nita sighed, tying her hair back in a more mature style so that she could look older than her nearly eighteen years. She didn’t want to ruin Kovit’s disguise by looking too young. Though, older men with younger women wasn’t that uncommon, just gross.
“As we’ll ever be,” she said, adding a few age lines to her face for good measure. There. Now they looked like a pair of late-twentysomething tourists.
It was time to get some answers.
Twenty-Four
IT WAS ALMOST eleven in the evening when Zebra-stripes finally came.
Nita nearly missed him, she’d been sitting so long on the couch in the hotel lobby staring vacantly at the entrance. She knew he’d arrive today based on his message when she sold him her mother’s location, sometime after sunset, but she hadn’t known what time, which meant a lot of waiting.
He entered quietly, unassuming in brown slacks and a thin beige coat. He’d tried to cover the distinctive white stripes in his brown hair with an old-fashioned-looking hat, the kind she expected on people who dramatically swept it off and bowed when introduced, kissing a lady’s hand in greeting. Despite the fact that all his clothes looked a little out of