I know how it sounds. I really do.
But I know she isn’t dead.
“Flynn,” an officer calls out, and I look over my shoulder. “Visitor.”
A grin spreads across my face. “This is him,” I say, standing and resting my hands at the table, allowing my grin to spread for the first time in months. “I bet my life Guy Gibson is waiting for me in that room, and he’ll let me know Ella is alive.”
Charlie’s smile is weak. “Good luck, man.”
I stride over to the doors, not even bothered by the chill of the handcuffs around my wrists, or the annoyance of them around my ankles. They lead me into the visitor area, and there he is.
Guy.
The relief almost forces me to my knees, but I manage to walk over. He catches my eye and remains expressionless, and I try not to smile, because this is hard for him. Ella has faked her death, which means he won’t be able to seeher anymore. I can. I can have her every day once I’m out of here.
But he’s lost her, and I have to respect that.
I’m seated.
“You can uncuff him,” Guy says.
The office falters. “Sir, I?—”
“Uncuff him.”
Reluctantly, he does. My knee bounces up and down almost involuntarily, and we’re quiet, only the quiet murmurs of other visits around us.
Guy looks older. Not by much, but he’s definitely tired. He’s in jeans and a T-shirt because it’s spring now—not that I’ve been able to experience much of it, but that’s fine. I can wait a little longer for her.
“How are you?” I ask. I can’t outright ask about her; people could overhear.
Guy doesn’t answer me, he just pushes a large envelope across the table. “I’m here because she asked me to do this, not because I want to.”
I take out the papers.
Across the front, it says:
“GABLE & ELLA”
I turn the page,and it’s our story. Starting from knocking on the door, to her dumping RoboCop in the lobby, to going to the bar and more. I laugh, blinking back tears as I scan over our memories, both good and bad, before love and after.
“It was the last thing she asked me to do.”
I keep my eyes on the paper, picturing her typing everything up. “Before she left?”
“Before she died, Gable.”
I pause mid-turn of the page and glance up at him. Seconds pass. Cold ones. The sounds of the visitor room fade away.
Shaking my head slowly, I say, “You can tell me the truth, Guy.”
Guy Gibson searches my face. “Truth about what?”
“She’s …” I laugh, but it’s hollow. Painful. “Guy, I know she’s alive. This is all fake, a performance to keep her safe. It’s okay. I’ll wait. I’ll get out, and it’ll be?—”
“During her fourth surgery, her heart stopped beating.” The statement is sharp. Slicing through me. “They brought her back, but she never woke up. I kept her alive, hoping, but one night I went home to see to Motor, and when I came back …” He looks away, his eyes glassy. “She was gone. Blood clots are common after surgery … She’s gone, Gable.”
Someone has hollowed out my chest.
