of anything, and no one knows what is going on inside someone else's head."
"I suppose."
"What happened with Constantine? Why did you look so shocked when you came out of the room?"
"He said something I wasn't expecting."
"Don't leave me hanging."
"I'm almost afraid to say it out loud. It might feel true if I do, and I don't want it to be true."
"Maya—I only have ten minutes."
"He said the fast-food bag in the car the night Natasha died always bothered him. Natasha never ate that kind of food, but she would always take my dad to a drive-through when they got together. Constantine implied that my father was in the car the night she died, but my dad said he hadn't seen his mom in a few days. That was the statement he made to the police."
"How old was your dad?"
"Fifteen. Constantine said my dad was getting into drugs with older kids and Natasha was worried. She was going to insist he go to rehab or something. I can't imagine my dad doing drugs."
"You also couldn't imagine him doing tequila sunrises with Blake Cordero."
"You're right. And Sylvia told me he sprayed graffiti all over this building when he was in his twenties. That didn't sound like him, either. I keep thinking I'm going to find out more about Natasha, and the person I'm finding out about is my dad, and it's all bad."
"Maybe this is why he didn't want you to look into it. He knew he'd show up in a negative light."
"I have to talk to him about that night, but I don't want to. He's not a physically angry person, but he can be cutting with his words. On a good day, he gets frustrated with me. Now, I'm going to accuse him of lying about seeing his mom the night she died?"
"Let's say he did. What are you thinking happened after that?"
"I don't know."
"Yes, you do. You have a theory."
She frowned, unable to deny that. "Maybe Natasha got upset when my dad wouldn't listen to her. He'd had drugs on him. He left them in the car, or she took them from him. He ran away. Sitting there alone in a moment of anger, depression and sadness, she took the drugs herself. Constantine said she had a lot of regrets about letting her kid down. Maybe it was too much. Maybe it was suicide."
"It might have been. Are you ready to stop looking for another answer?"
"I'm torn. I never thought this story could turn around and come right at me—at my father."
"That's the problem with the truth. You never know where it's going to go."
"But Constantine could have been lying. Sylvia said that."
"Sylvia?" he queried.
"She came to escort me out of the private room, and she asked me how I would know if someone was lying to me about Natasha. I said I wouldn't know. I'd just have to trust them."
"Did you find Constantine trustworthy?"
She sighed. "I found him dark, moody, sometimes cold, a little scary, but also vulnerable and emotional."
"That's a lot of adjectives."
"I didn't really know what to make of him. Oh, he did tell me that the Lark was a nickname for a woman named Julia Poplova, who Natasha knew from her childhood in Russia. Julia apparently thought that Natasha turned her back on her roots and their friendship was very turbulent. I need to figure out if Julia is still alive. I also need to go back and read what Natasha said about the Lark."
"That's good information."
"I asked him about the other names, like the Wolf. He said he didn't know."
"Well, you learned something. This Julia could be an important clue. It sounds like she had a grudge against Natasha."
"It does. I like her as a suspect far better than my father. Constantine told me that I probably wouldn't want to talk to my dad, but he was the one person I should speak to."
"He's not wrong."
"I know, but I am so conflicted, Jax. Tell me what to do."
He gave her a small smile. "I can't tell you that."
"Sure you can. A lot of people have."
"Then listen to them."
"They have hidden agendas. You don't. What do you think I should do?"
He didn't answer right away, and then he said, "I think you should breathe in and out and let everything sit for a bit."
"You want me to do nothing?" she grumbled.
"Will that be difficult?"
"Yes. I'm nowhere near as chill as you are, especially now. I don't know how to breathe through the adrenaline rushing through