UnWholly

He wants to believe that he’s the reason why she’s doing all the things she’s doing—all these things that clearly go against her grain. But if there are any parts of him that are naive enough to believe that she’d do these interviews and ads for his sake, they are outnumbered by the parts of him that know better.

Their appearance on Brunch with Jarvis and Holly made it painfully clear that whatever pain Risa is feeling over her part in all this runs very deep. The fact that she allowed him to comfort her didn’t change that. If anything, it made him feel a responsibility to get to the bottom of it—not just for his own sake, but for hers. For how could anything between them ever be real without a full disclosure?

It all comes down to the day she signed that consent form—but asking Roberta about it is a useless endeavor. Then Cam realizes he doesn’t have to . . . because Roberta is the queen of surveillance videos.

“I need to see the surveillance records from April seventeenth,” Cam tells the security guard he’s most friendly with—the one he plays basketball with—after they return to Molokai.

“No can do,” he tells Cam, right off the bat. “No one sees those without permission from you-know-who. Get her permission, and I’ll show you whatever you want.”

“She’ll never know.”

“Don’t matter.”

“But it’ll matter if I tell her I caught you trying to steal from the mansion.” That makes the guard stutter. “Allow me,” Cam says. “You say, ‘You son of a bitch, you can’t do that,’ and I say ‘Yes, I can, and who do you think she’ll believe, me or you?’ ” Then Cam hands him a flash drive. “So just put the files on this, and everyone’s life will be easier.”

The guard looks at him incredulously. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

And although Cam knows who he’s referring to, he says, “I’ve got lots of trees, you’ll have to be more specific.”

That evening the drive turns up in his desk drawer, packed with video files. He doubts he’ll have a basketball partner anymore, but it’s a small sacrifice to make. When it’s late enough to know he won’t be interrupted, he loads the files onto his personal viewer—and witnesses something he was never supposed to see. . . .

50 • Risa

April 17. Almost two months ago. Before the interviews and the public service a

Risa sits in her wheelchair in a sparse cell with nothing to occupy her time but her own thoughts. A consent form folded into a paper airplane lies on the floor beneath a oneway mirror.

She spends her time thinking about her friends. Of Co

Roberta comes in, as she did the day before, with a new consent form. She sits down at the table and slides the consent form and a pen toward Risa again.

She smiles at Risa, but it’s the smile of a snake about to coil around its prey.

“Are you ready to sign?” she asks.

“Are you ready to see me fly another paper airplane?” Risa responds.

“Airplanes!” says Roberta brightly. “Yes, why don’t we talk about airplanes? Particularly the ones in the aircraft salvage yard. The place you call the Graveyard. Let’s talk about your many friends there.”

At last, thinks Risa, she’s going to question me. “Ask whatever you want,” she says. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t trust a thing I say.”

“No need to ask you questions, dear,” Roberta says. “We know all we need to know about the Graveyard. You see, we allow your little AWOL sanctuary to exist because it serves our needs.”

“Your needs? You’re telling me you control the Juvenile Authority?”

“Let’s just say we have substantial sway. The Juvenile Authority has wanted to raid the Graveyard for quite a while, but we’re the ones holding them back. However, if I give the word, the Graveyard will be cleaned out, and all those children who you fought so valiantly to save will be transported to harvest camps and unwound.”

Risa can sense the rug being pulled out from under her. “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I? I believe you know our inside man. His name is Trace Neuhauser.”

The news completely blindsides her. “Trace?”

“He’s provided us with all the information we need to make a takedown of the airplane Graveyard quick and painless.” She pushes the consent form just an inch closer to Risa. “However, it never needs to happen. None of those AWOLs need be unwound. Please, Risa. Accept a new spine, and do all we ask of you. If you do, I will personally guarantee that all seven hundred nineteen of your friends will be unharmed. Help me, Risa, and you’ll save them.”

Risa looks at the paper, seeing it in a terrible new light. “What types of things?” she asks. “What types of things will you ask me to do?”

“It will begin with Cam. You will put aside your feelings, whatever they may be, and learn to be kind to him. As for what other things we may ask of you, you will know when it is your time to know.”

She waits for Risa’s response, but she has none. The shrapnel of this bombshell has yet to come to rest.

Risa’s silence seems to satisfy Roberta, so she stands, leaving Risa with the form and the pen. “As you pointed out before, I won’t take away your choice—it remains in your rights to refuse . . . but if you do, I hope you can live with the consequences.”

•   •   •

Risa holds the pen in her hand and reads the document for the fourth time. A single page filled with incomprehensible legalese. She doesn’t need to decipher the fine print—it’s pretty obvious what it says. By signing it, she gives her express permission to replace her damaged spine with a healthy one, harvested from an anonymous Unwind.

How many times has she imagined what it would be like to walk again? How many times has she relived that moment at Happy Jack Harvest Camp when the roof collapsed and crushed her back, and wondered what it would be like to have that moment erased?

The way Risa saw it, however, the cost of the new spine would be her soul. Her conscience couldn’t allow it, not then, not ever. Or so she thought.

If she looks at the big picture and refuses to sign it, she makes a personal statement against a world that’s lost its way . . . but no one will ever know, and her statement will cause hundreds of her friends to be unwound.

Roberta claims that Risa has a choice, but what choice does she really have? She holds the pen firm, takes a deep breath, and signs her name.

51 • Cam

Roberta is overjoyed by the response to the Jarvis and Holly appearance. She’s already fielded dozens of interview requests.

“We can afford to be choosy,” she tells Cam the morning after he views the surveillance video. “Quality versus quantity!”

Cam says nothing, and Roberta is so wrapped up in her own plans, she fails to notice that Cam isn’t himself.

You will put aside your feelings, whatever they may be, and learn to be kind to him.

He takes his frustration out alone on the basketball court, and when that doesn’t calm him down, he takes it to the source. He searches the sprawling manor for Risa. He finds her in the kitchen, making herself a late-morning sandwich. “I get tired of being served all the time,” she says casually. “Sometimes all I want is a PB&J that I make myself.” She holds out the sandwich to him. “You want this one? I’ll make another.”

When he doesn’t take it, she looks at his eyes and sees how off he is. “What’s the matter? Have a fight with Mommy?”

“I know why you’re here,” he tells her. “I know all about your deal with Roberta, and your friends at the Graveyard.”