It cost me everything. My mom. My dad.
“You took Eugene’s laptop. Your father texted mine, told him that they were going to settle it once and for all. Eugene said he was going to bring his laptop. Except it wasn’t here!”
Ivy didn’t know if the voice modulator malfunctioned or if the man had shut it off on purpose, but the voice came through crystal clear when he’d shouted that last sentence. And of course, Ivy recognized it immediately. Didn’t have to, though; “your father texted mine” was a dead giveaway.
“Tristan?”
A short pause. Accidental or not, Tristan didn’t bother turning the voice modulator back on.
“Where is your father’s laptop?”
“I don’t—I don’t know!”
“Twenty-seven minutes, Ivy!” the man screamed. “Where is Eugene’s laptop?”
“I don’t know! I swear, I don’t know!”
“What were you doing in the house for twenty-seven minutes!”
Ivy refused to let her mind go back there.
“Please! Let the detective go.”
“Tell me where the laptop is and I’ll let you all go. Or you can choose. Up to you.”
“I’m a victim, too. My dad—”
“My dad is dead!”
“So is mine!”
“It’s not the same.”
It wasn’t. But not in the way that Tristan thought.
Now, Ivy was transported back to three years ago. It was impossible to stop herself. The telephone call.
“We did it, Ivy. We did it! We solved the Riemann hypothesis. Steve has half on his laptop, I have half on mine. We’re supposed to meet up, but... I don’t trust him. He wants to go private, sell it to the highest bidder. I can’t let him do that. If anything happens to me, you need to get the laptops.”
Tristan’s voice shattered the reverie.
“I see you, Ivy. You have the laptop.”
Ivy’s eyes darted from Darnell, still unconscious but breathing, his thick chest rhythmically rising and falling, to the corners of the room.
Focused on the camera. Of course, he was watching. He was always watching. He’d been watching her in Dr.Moorehead’s office and he was watching her now.
“Please, Tristan, just let the cop go. Let all of us go. I don’t know where the laptop is. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Pick a door.”
“Tristan—”
“Pick a door!”
Ivy winced.
“I’m going to give you twenty-seven seconds—” Tristan paused. In the background, over the speaker, Ivy heard what sounded like an alarm. A sharp, piercing beep. Repeated. “Looks like the rules have changed, Ivy.”
