Quite frankly, I have no idea how she’s still standing.
“Is Gina back yet?”
“She should be back in the morning. That’s what I was coming to speak to you about actually. I’m headed to my…sister’s, with Saint.”
We stare at each other for a beat. The room temperature plummets, nothing to do with the snow fluttering away beyond the window.
Jenna’s eyes soften when she takes me in, her gaze travelling my face. A silent understanding passing through. “When did you find out?” she asks.
“I saw her on stage.”
Those dark brows pinch together. “Oh, Indigo.”
She gets up from her spot, coming to sit herself beside me.
The walls of my throat feel like they’re thickening. “It’s been a weird couple of weeks to say the least.”
She holds out her arms, and I huff a laugh, leaning into her. Give it to Jenna, who’s been through hell and back, to still find it within herself to give someone else comfort.
Tears well in my eyes even further.
She jerks back, looking down at me. “Wait…if you know, why are you going to see her?”
“I need her to think everything is normal, but I think she already knows. We’re both playing against each other.” I feel that new familiar feeling dropping in the pit of my stomach when I think of my sister.
I have a role to play, a mask to wear. And fuck, do I wish I took acting classes during school.
Jenna’s voice is laced with alarm, the pitch heightening. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
I’ve no idea what I’m getting into.
Saint’s people have successfully managed to infiltrate the forest behind their home, noting nothing of concern, or any security walking the perimeter.
That doesn’t mean things will change tomorrow.
“We have half of Ultio coming with us, they have a skeletal crew here to hold the fort, plus Gina and Dawson will wait it out here with their group.”
She bobs her head, and I can see the cogs working. She’s still trying to get over the information we’ve already come to terms with.
Granted, if the Omnia hadn’t injected themselves into our lives the way they did, our reactions would be a hell of a lot different.
“What are your plans?” she asks.
“Saint wants to see if they’ll make a move first, or whether everyone’s going to play dumb at this meal. Him and Rex plan to take Barry out once Malcolm gets here then move in on the others.”
Saint’s been learning their routines all week. The Montgomerys have been watched for years; my sister and Barry are pretty unpredictable.
And the Chief? His seemed to have proved the most reliant routine.
He’s always at the station, or at home, or in seedy hotels all around the state. No spouse, children, or friends. Just a lonely, sad existence.
It’s the least he deserves in my opinion.
“What are you doing about Louisa?” she asks.
Even the sound of her name feels like someone’s sticking their finger in an unhealed wound. The closer this dinner gets, the more painful it gets.
“She’s already dead to me. I’ll just make sure my feelings match her living status.” My fingers twist together as I glance down at them.
