“We’re going to talk,” she pressed.
“I—I know that,” he stammered, because there had never been use in denying Rebecca anything. Not even from him. “But I’d like to talk here.”
Rebecca pursed her wormy lips but slid into the stool next to him. When the bartender—Orphie, his name was—asked for her drink, she only requested water, no ice.
“Have you been reading the papers?” she asked.
“Not if I can help it,” he responded truthfully.
“Enne now operates a department at the National Bank. Owain didn’t give the announcement much—only a few inches on the third page. Harrison Augustine kept it all hush-hush. But she works there now.”
Rebecca had a grave expression on her face that Harvey didn’t understand. He swirled his straw around his drink. “And that’s...bad...?”
“Do Enne and Levi know?” she asked him sharply. “Does Harrison know?”
Harvey was tempted to say,Well, I don’t even know. Because he didn’t. Whatever she was referring to, it was a piece of Bryce’s plan that he hadn’t shared with Harvey. And even this better version of Harvey didn’t want to admit that.
“I doubt it,” he said smoothly.
She rolled her eyes. “Why do you feel the need to do that?”
“Do what?”
“Lie. Really, your insecurities are unbecoming.”
Harvey’s face burned. He was completely transparent.
“If Bryce didn’t tell you, it was probably because he didn’t want Harrison to find out, which is for the best.” Rebecca drummed her fingers against the bar—her nails were broken down too low to make a noise. “Which means my coming all the way out here was a waste of time.”
“You could’ve asked Bryce before finding me,” Harvey pointed out.
“Bryce is...touchy when it comes to you.”
Harvey was pleased to hear that. He shouldn’t be—but he was.
“How did you know where I was?” Harvey asked her. He hadn’t told Bryce where he was staying.
“Someone from the Orphan Guild saw you here,” she answered. “Well, since Iamhere, is there anything you could tell me about Harrison? What are they all planning? What have they guessed?”
Harrison had forbidden Harvey from revealing that information, but even so, Harvey snapped back, “I can’t tellyouanything.”
She sighed like he was the most irritating thing in the world. This was one of the many reasons he didn’t like Rebecca, because she made him feel like hewas. “Why do you hate me, Harvey? Are you still that lovesick?”
Harvey hated that word. Hewassick—that much was certain and his sickness hadn’t started with Bryce. It had started with his parents: the horror of how they tricked people with their talent, the anxiety of leaving, the ache of severing himself from his past so unconditionally.
And then therehadbeen Bryce, the boy who convinced him he was more than just a Chainer, and who Harvey believed was more than just a malison. Bryce was the first person Harvey lived with after his family, in a crummy apartment in the Deadman District. Eventually, Bryce had convinced him to start the Orphan Guild because they both needed the volts, because that was how it felt to live in the City of Sin—like you needed to dream something, to start something. That was when their friendship had changed. When Bryce had confessed he’d liked boys the same way he liked girls, when he’d kissed Harvey, when Harvey realized he never wanted him to stop.
“I assumed whether or not I hate you was obvious,” Harvey told her.
“Well, it’s not,” Rebecca said flatly.
“You and Bryce created a shade that’s going to get a lot of people killed. You alreadyhavegotten a lot of people killed. Bryce never would have done something like that before he met you.” Harvey looked her dead in the eyes and said, “You’re the reason he’s terrible.”
Rebecca snorted, not appearing an ounce offended by Harvey’s years of pent-up fury. He didn’t like that, either; it made him feel insignificant. “You’ve deluded yourself. I haven’t changed Bryce at all. You just remember your past all rose-colored.”
“I don’t remember Bryce killing anyone,” Harvey said darkly.
“Bryce has always been ambitious. You just didn’t realize how far he’d be willing to go to see those ambitions realized.”
