I remember the way things had been going with Byron and Trevel, leading up to the fall. Really, it worked out splendidly.My poor shadow pet… Always seeking his Michelangelo proxy.
I knew Trevel Fenwick would be the perfect distraction for him; someone to finally remove him from permanent third-wheel status with Lexington Deon and his firestarter. Byron and Trevel hit it off better, and faster, than I anticipated.
I’m no matchmaker, we’ve established this. But there was always something about Byron Kang that stuck in my chest. Maybe it was knowing with unequivocal certainty that he hasneverbelonged here, and seeing how utterly sad that made him was like a rain cloud that followed him around everywhere. I guess you could say I took him on as something of a pet project.
One of many.
I’m still not even surewhyI gave him that journal. It just felt like something that could help… He was clearly so bustling with secrets, begging to unload themsomewhere; to unburden himself on someone who could handle it.
Trevel Fenwick happened to show up at the exact right moment. So even knowing he’d also been delivered here for unnecessary reasons, keeping him was inevitable. For me, as a thorn in Lemuel’s side, but more importantly, as someone tofinallybe here for Byron Kang.
Sending 62 to the prison was a gamble, but in truth, I knew how it would go down. Jonathan has tunnel-vision right now,and it’s aimed right at me. His anger and desire to make me suffer are clouding his judgment.
It’s good. It means it’ll be easier to back him into a corner.
If he were smart, he would have used Byron just like everyone else does. But instead, he turned his back on him.
That leaves #62’s allegiance right here, with 102.And with me.
If there’s one thing I didn’t expect, it was losing Luthor and Ren…
I’ve had all eyes out, search parties, the works. There’s no evidence that they made it out alive. But there’s no evidence that theydidn’teither, so it’s a bit of a mystery at the moment.
I hate mysteries.Solve the puzzle, close the case.
It seems highly implausible that they survived, and it’s most likely that their bodies are at the bottom of the ocean, being eaten by sea creatures.But that hasn’t been confirmed.
Still, it’s best that Byron Kang believes they’re dead. For all of us.
“Keep an eye on them,” I tell Kent. “We’re pushing south again soon, so we’ll see what that yields.”
“Very good, sir.”
“What about Angelito’s sister…?” I ask hesitantly.
I’m nervous about this more than anything. We’d had eyes on Avianna before the fall, but we lost her over the summer. Then there was that span of roughly twelve hours when I was certain she was the intruder—the mysterious female lurking in the prison, who I’d been toldleft, only to find out she was actually in the Tomb in the East Wing.
But of course, that turned out not to be the case…
“We think she’s still in Vegas,” Kent says. “I’m working all the connections out there. We’ll find her.”
How is it that all of these little shits are suddenly so evasive?? I swear to God, I’ve never had so much trouble keeping track of people.
“Please,” I hiss. “Let’s not letthisone get away, hm?”
Kent gives a curt nod of determination. “Yes, sir.”
“Last thing…” I rumble as he’s about to leave. He pauses, turning back. “What’s Nestor been up to lately…?”
Kent blinks, and since I’ve known him a long time, I’m able to distinguish the slight, but immediate dread on his face.
I’m thoroughly suspicious and instantly seething. But I hide mine much better.
“Uh… nothing specific,” he mutters, then clears his throat. My gaze narrows. “Mostly shipping and receiving… Why?”
I say nothing. Just glare at him in tense, accusatory silence.
You know why… don’t you?
