The Variables

Lucy listened to the cacophony of pain.

Her father had tried to spare them from loss, but he had only delayed it.

Opening her note from Grant once again, she reread the words and then clutched the paper to her chest. In Grant’s simple handwriting, it read: I can’t make your decision for you, but I can tell you the truth: You are needed here. If you leave, you can’t come back. If you stay, someday we will meet again at our place. I’ll wait for you like I promised. Cabin 206. I’ll be there until I die. I love you, for always. 

CHAPTER THIRTY

With any luck, Hank had procured their helicopter ride. All the moving pieces of their escape played out in Ethan’s head over and over like a video stuck on a loop. Step one, step two, step three. And all the while, he couldn’t shake his mother’s face as he said goodbye to her and wrapped his arms around her body for one last time. He wished he knew where his father was; despite their differences and their arguments, despite his father’s cowardice, he owed him more than slipping away without some type of farewell. He owed him that, at the very least.

What surprised him more than anything was Lucy.

She had stayed behind.

All her bravado of leaving, escaping—all her hard work to save Grant, take on Huck—and in the end, she could not leave the rest of their family. Or maybe Grant had made it easy for her to chose Kymberlin over the mainland; he didn’t know what that note said and he wouldn’t ask. Privacy was underrated.

Now, he just had to put the last remaining puzzle piece in place and they would be gone. It was simple, really.

Grant walked up to Ethan, his hands in his pockets.

“Hank met me at the sports bar. His flight to the mainland departs in twenty minutes. He told them he was going back for the flight log or something like that,” Grant said. His face was puffy and he seemed distant and aloof. Ethan wanted to tell him that he needed him alert, but it was no use—his brain was with Lucy and nothing he could say would stop that.

“Shit,” Ethan said. “She better be on time.” He looked up into the center of the tower and spotted the large clock slowly ticking away the minutes. A black second-hand spun quickly.

“Should I wait here, or...”

“Don’t loiter,” Ethan snapped. “Take ten minutes. Go to a shop. Then meet me in the atrium.”

“Is this going to work?”

“It’s a long shot...”

“Why the ruse?” Grant whispered. And Ethan looked upward to the cameras. If they escaped off Kymberlin with Teddy, it would be an amazing feat. But escaping so people wouldn’t follow them was the hard part. Hank was instrumental in that portion of Ethan’s plan, and the man, eager to start the search for his wife, agreed to anything. “Ten minutes,” Grant said and then left Ethan standing in the same spot, unmoving.

Ethan sca

Allison sat down on a bench and didn’t take her eyes off of him. Unlike some of the other moms and na

With his eyes still closed he felt someone brush up against his arm. Then he felt a small kiss on his cheek.

He didn’t open his eyes.

“You slapped me,” he said.

“You deserved it,” she replied.

He turned to look at her. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Cass made a face and shrugged. “C’est la vie.” She slipped her hand into his and tugged him forward, he stumbled and stopped. “Come on, Ethan King. Follow me.”

“This is a bad time, Cassandra. Please...I’m begging you.”

“You owe me,” she said, her eyes stern. “You owe me this.”

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“I have no other way to say goodbye to you except to help...so you will follow me.”

Ethan stopped and he tried to let go of her hand, but she wouldn’t let him. “Blair.”

“Don’t blame her. She is a troubled soul and I’m a persuasive woman.” Cass paused. “She said you love me. Is that true?”

Turning his head to the clock, he watched the seconds tick by. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. “No,” he said. “It’s not true.”

Cass laughed and tilted her head back. People around them stopped and looked at her; some were compelled to smile themselves. She flashed him a bright smile and pulled him closer, he dragged his foot until he had to take a step. She was moving him toward the park.

“I don’t love you, too,” she replied.

“I don’t need your help.”

“You do,” she whispered. “And you’ll take it.”

She dropped his hand and spun away from him and walked straight into the park and up to Allison. The young na

“I don’t want to leave,” Ethan heard him pout. Then Teddy looked up and saw Ethan and waved. “Uncle Ethan!” The child rushed forward, but Allison tugged him backward and held on to his shirt to keep him in place.

“We were just leaving,” Allison said.

“We just got here,” Teddy contradicted. A few of the other parents were watching the scene unfold.

“It’s simple,” Cass said. “I’m a divination expert and Blair has paid for me to read the tarot for you.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Allison said and she began to walk away.

Cass stepped in front of her. “It will take five minutes. She insisted.”

“Some other time.”

“Sit down,” Cass said and she put her hand on Allison’s shoulder. Allison looked at Ethan, still standing ten feet away, and then to Teddy who was about to burst into tears. Mumbling under her breath, she sat down at a different park bench and motioned for Cass to get on with it.

Cass pulled out her cards and displayed them in a line. Teddy wiggled on her lap. Ethan watched as Cass explained the cards and then a

“Painless,” Allison repeated, a

“I’m sorry...I am...but I have a confession.” Cass signaled for Allison to come closer and Ethan watched as Cass brought a needle up and jabbed it quickly into the na

Teddy hovered over his guardian, but Cass swept him away.

“Quick! This woman fainted! I need a guard and a medic!” Cass yelled. One of the mothers from the playground came trotting over and she leaned across Allison’s body.

“What happened?”

The other mothers and fathers began to congregate: little busybodies more curious than concerned.

“I read her tarot, told her the future, and she just...” Cass closed her eyes and swayed. “I’ll be right back. Keep her warm!” Cass slipped Teddy’s hand into hers and raced him over to Ethan.