After hours of waiting, Noah goes out to get food and Rosie falls asleep on one of the lounge chairs.
Megan and I are alone, watching the Scarred Man washing his dishes by hand and putting them all away. I wonder if he is as bored as we are. But Megan doesn’t complain. She sits, patiently waiting — for what, I do not know.
“Hey, Megan …” I don’t know where the words come from; I don’t know how to stop them. “Did you go to my mom’s funeral?”
The dripping of the water is ever present in the basement. It punctuates my every word. I wish I could turn the volume down.
“Yeah,” Megan says, but she doesn’t face me.
“Was it nice?” I have to ask.
Megan nods, but doesn’t say anything for a moment. “I’m sorry you couldn’t come.” Megan swings her feet back and forth. I can see her wondering whether or not she should go on, but eventually she says, “The prime minister came. And Princess Ann, though they brought her in and out through a private entrance. I don’t think the public even knew she was there.”
“She and my mom grew up together. They were best friends.”
“That makes sense,” Megan says. “There were a lot of flowers.”
“My mom loved flowers.”
“Your grandpa gave the eulogy. He thanked everyone for coming and talked about how wonderful and beautiful your mother was. About how much she loved you and your brother. Everybody cried.”
From the sound of her voice I think Megan is crying now. I think I might be too but I’m not going to give my tears permission to fall. Not anymore.
“Was he there?” I ask, my gaze glued to the man on the screen. “Dominic? Did he come?”
Megan shakes her head. For the first time, she faces me. “If he was there, I didn’t see him. But it was at the national cathedral and it was packed. I bet there were five hundred people there, and I don’t think I saw him. Or at least I don’t remember seeing him. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her, even though it isn’t. Even though I’m pretty sure that nothing will ever be okay again.
A moment later, the door swings open and Noah asks, “So what did I miss?”
Rosie sits upright and stretches, catching the sandwich that Noah tosses her way.
“Nothing,” I tell Noah.
He hands a sandwich to me, and I’m just about to dig in when, beside me, Megan mutters, “That’s weird.”
“What is it?” Rosie asks, but Megan just looks at me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing.” Megan tries to close the laptop, but not before Noah swoops it away from her. For a second, he just stares at the screen. I can’t see what he’s seeing, but somehow I know what he’s thinking. Maybe because I can see it in his eyes. Maybe because I’ve seen it so many times before.
Noah isn’t angry. Not yet. He’s hurt.
I don’t know what it is, but I know that I’ve done something wrong.
“I asked you if you had ever accused any other men with scars before,” Noah says.
“Noah, I —”
“I asked you, and you said this was the first time! You said —”
“I know what I said.”
“Then how do you explain this?” Noah turns the laptop so that I can see it, and I look down at the four photos that I have seen before. That I’d hoped I’d never have to see again.
“What is it?” Rosie asks. “What’s wrong?”
Megan exhales a guilty sigh even though she isn’t the one who should feel guilty. “I was looking around the embassy’s security records to see what they have on the Scarred Man, and I didn’t find much on him, but …” She glances down at the computer, picks it up. “I found some other Scarred Men.”
Rosie’s eyes go wide as she looks through the file, the electronic equivalent of the one my grandfather threw in my face.
“I don’t get it,” Rosie says with a shrug, as if this subject is already boring her. But Noah isn’t going to forget it anytime soon.
“You lied, Grace.” He looks at me like I didn’t just break my word — I broke his trust. “You lied.”
“Noah” — Megan is stepping in between the two of us — “we should hear Grace out.”
“You lied to me!” Even though we’re in the basement of an utterly abandoned building, I’m almost afraid that someone is going to hear him shout. “I asked you if you’ve ever done anything like this before, and you said no.”
“It’s him! I swear it’s really him this …” But I don’t finish.
“This time?” Noah snaps. “That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it? That you’re sure this time? How many other times have there been, Grace?”
“It’s him,” I say.
“How many times?” he yells again.
“Well, the file says —” Megan starts, but Noah cuts her off. His gaze never strays from me.
“I’m asking Grace.”
“Four. Before this there were four. I was wrong then, but I’m not now.” I look around the room.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many men with facial scars,” Rosie says.
Noah shakes his head coldly. “It’s not hard when you’re looking for them.”
He never takes his gaze off of me.
“Noah, I swear I saw —”
“Listen to yourself! You saw him meeting someone down here. You followed him at the palace. You heard him say he was going to kill somebody else. Tell me, Grace — do you ever wonder why it’s always you who hears and sees these things?” Noah shakes his head, so very disappointed in me. “If a scarred man makes a threat in a forest, ever wonder why you’re always the only one around to hear it?”
The words are out and I can tell by the look on Noah’s face that he doesn’t regret them in the least — that a part of him has been asking that very question for days.
“But Grace heard him say that he was going to kill somebody. Didn’t you, Grace?” Rosie asks. “He said that.”
“Well, not in those exact words, but … he was talking about killing someone. I swear! He said there are a lot of ways for a person to die and he just has to find one. He said that,” I tell them. I have to make them understand. “That is exactly what he said.”