The Variables

Cass stopped and put the book in her lap. She looked up at Ethan and laughed, her head rolling backward, her loud roar filled the room. “It’s a joke. You see?”

She picked the book back up again and handed it over to Ethan, getting up off her chair long enough to point out the line she thought was so fu

Ethan handed the book back, but not before sca

“Maybe Baudelaire was a bad choice. He’s a bit too impenetrable for me.”

Ethan turned his head away from her. His hand hovered at his side, and he was seconds from putting it on top of his head, just to get her to leave, so he could weep again without an audience. She was trying too hard to get through to him, but he didn’t want to reward her.

“Let’s try this poem instead,” Cass said in a low voice, and she opened the book to a different page. Instead of reading it, she set the book down next to the bed, and then took Ethan’s hand and placed it on the open page. He wanted to pull away from the warmth of her touch; it was the first time in weeks someone had touched him with tenderness, not poking and prodding and taking his blood pressure. His mind went to Ainsley. Then his next thought was of Doctor Krause’s body and the smoke and the crying. He could not disco

But Cass’s hand stayed on his hand, lingering. So, he looked down and took the book.

Taped over the page was a note.

Without reading it, he looked up at his visitor, whose face stayed still.

“Take your time,” she instructed.

Ethan looked back down at the handwriting. He read it slowly.

It read: “If you care and love Teddy, then you need to fight for him. By the end of the day he will be in Blair’s care. More later, when I can. Enchantè.”

He looked at Cass when he was done. She leaned over the bed and took the book from him.

“I see that poetry was a poor decision altogether. Next time, I’ll try to find something more engaging. A spy novel? What is it that you read?” she paused, as if he would answer her. “This is a touch embarrassing, but can I use your toilet? My pod isn’t far, but I have to make a stop on the way...may I?” She rose and pushed the chair back to its original spot and then waltzed, without waiting for an answer, into his private bathroom. The door shut and locked behind her; he heard her singing to herself, a deep hum.

He couldn’t help finding her beautiful. And mysterious. At one point in his life that might have meant something, but it was no use. He could no longer recall A

Ainsley was an act of hopefulness; a bet on the possibility of a happy future.

And maybe Cass had touched his hand with affection and asked him to trust her, so something stirred within Ethan, but there was still a voice of warning that reminded him that he was a stranger here, and while he may have been rescued, he was an enemy.

It was futile to dream of a future.

Cass’s message was ominous.

He felt a twinge of resentment. Had she come in here and brought any other message, she would have been easy to ignore, but she had come with news of Teddy. He felt responsible for Teddy and co

Cass returned from his bathroom and set the book down on the nightstand near the hospital bed. She put her hands on her hips and gauged Ethan’s reactions once again, holding her gaze for longer than was comfortable and not hiding the fact, either.

“I must go,” she said. “Should I come again? How about that spy novel? Or are you more of a science-fiction man?” She waved her hand, “Never mind. I’ll figure it out. Take care. And I’m just an elevator ride away if you need me. Or...maybe I’ll see you soon? Out of here? Well. Ethan King.”

With that strange non-goodbye, Cass spun and exited, shutting the door behind her. He watched the space she had just left for a long time and wondered if she had been a dream, too.

After a few moments, he reached down and grabbed the Flowers for Evil book and flipped through its pages. It didn’t take him long to realize that the note she had left for him was gone.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Maxine opened the door to their apartment. Blair stood there, her long blonde hair pulled up into a cascading ponytail, her makeup touched up since the meeting a few hours earlier. Her lips were extra glossy—distractingly shiny. In her hands, she held a small wrapped gift, and when she saw Maxine, she waited, staring, until she was offered a chance to come inside.

“Well. You were serious,” Maxine said. “Come on in. Come in.”

Lucy and Grant rose as Blair entered. She shifted uncomfortably in the middle of the room and held the present against her stomach.

“Hey,” Lucy said. She hadn’t talked to Blair since she had brought Frank to her and used him as a bargaining chip to earn some time with Grant. It had been a wasted effort. Blair had tried to kill her. That was the only piece of information that mattered.

“Hello,” Blair answered formally. She looked back at Maxine. “I brought something for Teddy.”

“I’ll get him,” Maxine said. She went into the boys’ room and came out holding Teddy’s hand. He looked up at Blair and then scurried behind Maxine, peering out and staring at the present in her hands.

Blair crouched down to the ground and extended her gift. “This is for you,” she said. “Do you want to open it?”

Teddy nodded, but he didn’t move.

“Well, you’ll have to come out from there if you want to see what’s inside,” Blair said and she set the present down between them on the floor like she was training a puppy.

Lucy wanted to scoop Teddy up and run away. She felt like screaming, “It’s a trap!” But even though everyone else in the room held their collective breaths, Teddy didn’t seem enticed by the package. He clutched Maxine’s hand tighter and ducked away from Blair’s eagerness.

“Well, then,” Blair a

“No,” Maxine interrupted. “You’ll need to leave.”

“It’s not up for debate,” Blair said coldly.