“Did you find a way out?”
“Sort of,” he said. “There’s a hole in the ceiling and light coming through.”
The ceiling? The ceiling would be—the hatchet job to the floors at ground level in the space next door. Was that a way out, though, or would we end up with guns pointed as us again, Alex’s Hail Mary wasted? Dahlia McPhee, look at yourself.
“That’s the empty storefront next door,” I said to the room. Marisa, for one, didn’t look thrilled about revisiting that half of the building. “They broke through the floors over there. Pascal, you listened hard for voices? You didn’t hear anything?”
Quin leaned into the opening. “Could you fit through it, Pascal? The hole you found?”
“I could, if I could reach it,” he said.
Quin and I conferred with a look. “If we can get a few more people down there to boost Pascal up, he’d be able to get out to the street and get help,” I said. “Ifyou’re not going to stop him.”
“I want everyone to get out safe, Doll,” Quin said. “That’s why…”
“That’s why what?”
“I’ll go,” Lourey said, stepping into the room. “Rooster and I can lift him.”
“Let’s do this,” Quin said. “All the ladies. Jim, big man? You keep watch at that door for now, but we’re going to get out of here, too. You and me, I promise you.”
Jim said nothing. He would be rethinking his stance on drinking at home.
“Pascal,” I called through the gap. “We’re sending down some people to get you through that opening you found. Help them find their footing, all right?”
Lourey, Suzy, strong from drumming, Rooster, no problem from lugging that bass around. They all slipped down easily. They caught Shanny, nervous and shaking, as she came down and then she took over as guide while the rest of the band went off to lift Pascal out.
“What?” Lourey exclaimed down below.
“Hey,” I whispered loudly. “Keep it quiet down there.” I turned to see who was next. “Sis, come on.”
Marisa was fussing at her, but I cut her off and turned Sis over to Quin. He helped her up into the sink and through. She grasped at my hand at the last second, and Quin and I shared the duty of lowering her out of sight as Marisa sniffled behind us. I listened for her feet on the floor below.
“She’s down,” Shanny said from below.
Then it was Marisa’s turn. Quin helped her up, but once her foot was through the hole, she panicked. “I can’t,” she said. “I can’t do it.”
“Sis is already down there,” I said. “You have to. You can do this.”
Marisa reached out and grasped my forearm. “I—I have to say, just this one thing—”
“Suck itin, Marisa,” I said. “I’m not going to forgive you at the eleventh hour for an abusive childhood. Just go.”
“I wasn’tabusive,” she said, the spot between her eyebrows creased. “Who said I was ever abusive?”
“Let’s talk about it later,” Quin suggested.
“No,” she said. “No, I’m not going into this hole, possibly to my death…” She took a shaking breath. “I’m not going without knowing what you’re talking about.”
“I showed up in Chicago with a child-sized cast on my left arm,” I said. “A parting gift from you.”
She was shaking her head. “No. No, that’s not true.” She looked around but found only Oona. “You’re not remembering it right,” Marisa said. “It was Alex who let you get hurt.”
“No—”
“I do think,” Oona said, “that Alex would want to be here to speak for himself.”
“Youfell, playing,” Marisa said. “In some dark corner of this pub you love so much. You’d only been with him a few months, and it didn’t help his case. That’s why you ended up not staying here after I… after…”
