“Hey,” I say, speaking to Warner directly for the first time. “So what, uh— What are you doing here?”
Warner looks at me like I’m an insect. His signature look. “What do you think I’m doing here?”
“Really?” I say, unable to hide my surprise. “That’s so decent of you. I didn’t think you’d be so . . . emotionally . . . responsible.” I clear my throat. Smile at James. He’s studying us curiously. “But I’m happy to be wrong, bro. And I’m sorry I misjudged you.”
“I’m here to gather information,” Warner says coldly. “James is one of the only people who might be able to tell us where my father is located.”
My compassion quickly turns to dust.
Catches fire.
Turns to rage.
“You’re here to interrogate him?” I say, nearly shouting. “Are you insane? The kid has only barely recovered from unbelievable trauma, and you’re here trying to mine him for information? He was probablytortured. He’s a freakingchild. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Warner is unmoved by my theatrics. “He was not tortured.”
That stops me cold.
I turn to James. “You weren’t?”
James shakes his head. “Not exactly.”
“Huh.” I frown. “I mean, don’t get me wrong—I’m thrilled—but if he didn’t torture you, what did Anderson do with you?”
James shrugs. “He mostly left me in solitary confinement. They didn’t beat me,” he says, rubbing absently at his ribs, “but the guards were pretty rough. And they didn’t feed me much.” He shrugs again. “But honestly, the worst part was not seeing Adam.”
I pull James into my arms again, hold him tight. “I’m so sorry,” I say gently. “That sounds horrible. And they wouldn’t let you see Adam at all? Not even once?” I pull back. Look him in the eye. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m sure he’s okay, little man. We’ll find him. Don’t worry.”
Warner makes a sound. A sound that seems almost like a laugh.
I spin around angrily. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I say. “This isn’t funny.”
“Isn’t it? I find the situation hilarious.”
I’m about to say something to Warner I really shouldn’t say in front of a ten-year-old, but when I glance back at James, I pull up short. James is rapidly shaking his head at me, his bottom lip trembling. He looks like he’s about to cry again.
I turn back to Warner. “Okay, what is going on?”
Warner almost smiles when he says, “They weren’t kidnapped.”
My eyebrows fly up my forehead. “Say what now?”
“They weren’t kidnapped.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“This is not the time, bro. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Kent tracked down Anderson on his own,” Warner says, his gaze shifting to James. “He offered his allegiance in exchange for protection.”
My entire body goes slack. I nearly fall off the bed.
Warner goes on: “Kent wasn’t lying when he said he would try for amnesty. But he left out the part about being a traitor.”
“No. No way. No fucking way.”
