After considering every angle, I can only get to her by getting close. But to get close, I need to use the Ella identity, which means I’ll blow it. In other words, I have to burn this apartment down. Because that’s what I do. Burn down every trace. Just like I burned down the house with my dead father in it when I was twelve.
I prepare everything. I have burned many things up to this point, and I know many ways to do so. The main objective for me today is to burn it down just in time so I can get to Lilian and get access to Zeus before they find out Ella’s apartment is burning down, while the fire also has to be fast enough to burn every trace of evidence that points back to the real me in case of a fast reaction of the firefighters.
Okay, first things first.
I take the phone, stop the ghost traffic, and send Lilian a message.
You
What if I say yes?
My chest heaves up and down as anticipation flushes through it. I can’t tell what it is, but every time I get closer to her, I get this jittery sensation in me, and I hate it.
Lilian
I’d tell you to meet, and we’ll discuss the details.
You
Where?
Lilian
I have someone pick you up.
Shit, I curse in my mind. Because being picked up means I can’t take my stuff, it's too risky to be searched. But I can’t leave my things here either. I also can’t deposit them anywhere else without being followed.
You
No, we meet somewhere public
I answer, but I already know she won’t go for it. Lilian is intelligent, and most of all, very bossy. It’s her way or none at all. I know, because I am the same. Ella, however, isn’t.
Lilian
Clause 11.3. I say when, where, and how.
I shake my head and grin as I read it. It was exactly what I thought would come.
Okay, improvising, let’s see how much she wants Ella.
You
Didn’t sign yet. I’ll be at Mojo’s in two hours, be there or it’s a no.
It is 8:03 p.m. right now. I don’t get an immediate answer, so I let her sit with it. I get ready, pack my bag, and prepare the apartment by pouring alcohol and everything flammable over the furniture in the small apartment.
Then I take a candle, tie several alcohol-soaked cotton strings around it roughly halfway, and calculate the burn time to match the two hours I need to finish my work. I knew the Ella personality of knitting and a cozy home would come in handy at some point.
I fix the ends of the strings at several points in the room, one leading to the bathroom, so that everything will incinerate perfectly the moment the candle burns down.
I hide a small knife, a clip, and some wire in my sleeve and pants; the rest goes into the backpack. If it comes to it, I’ll kill her with my hands, but I’d rather not.
Bye, Ella, I think as I lit the candle and close the door.
I leave with my backpack, which I will deposit at Penn Station. I chose Mojo’s for a reason: it’s central, and there are many people to blend in. I know the spots without surveillance, and it offers a quick getaway if needed.
After all those years of hunting assholes, my body knows what’s going to happen before it does. It‘ll be a close call, I can feel it already, but I have to improvise.
