My mom went to chapel every week. Used to light a candle for me and Dad. And whoever else needed something that week. An aunt about to give birth. A cousin fighting a cold.
Isolde doesn’t strike me as having a big family. So I wonder who the candles are for.
When I acted as the Ghost, I knew exactly who I was killing for. The names and faces of the victims I wanted justice for.
She offers the lit match. “Do you want to light one?”
I think of my mom again. How I’d hang onto her knees as she prayed.
“I’m okay,” I mutter.
“So what are your thoughts?” Adeline asks when her sister rejoins us.
Lennie nods, but her smile is tighter. “Should we find a bookstore? I still need this month’s book club pick.”
Isolde steps back from the flickering candles. “Yeah, let’s go get the smutty book Abe is obsessed with.”
We’ve been in a bookstore for three minutes, and all three women already have multiple books in their hands.
“Ren says you’re big into self-help.” Adeline picks up another fantasy.
“How much shit did Ren tell you about?” I ask, momentarily forgetting about professionalism.
“She went on a whole rant about kale smoothies one time.” Adeline shrugged. “Lennie told me about it.”
“They’re really not that bad,” Isolde says before I can reply. She struggles to keep a hold of all the books in herhands. When I grab a few that are tilting dangerously, she says, “I figured you’d like it if I stayed at home and read.”
The relief settling in my chest is short-lived when she pulls her phone from her pocket. I’m close enough to her that it’s easy to see the messages.
Hadrian: Dinner tonight?
Hadrian:I’ll even go to that godawful place you like so much.
Fujimori’s is lit up in the dark, the lighting having a greenish tint due to the houseplants Jane Fujimori takes care of.
There are only a few people here, thanks to the late hour. A weary couple, sightseeing in the city. A quiet man, eating a bowl of noodles.
And Hadrian Fucking Hallow.
Jane set them up at a table in the front, giving them privacy. Or as much privacy as possible.
“You look like you’re about to murder him,” Ben mutters as he flips through a legal document.
I’m about to tell him I have no idea what he’s talking about when I realize the comment isn’t actually geared toward me.
Ren is doodling flowers along the edge of her planner. She only likes to use a Muji mechanical pencil. After weeks of spending time with her, I’ve seen her fill in almost every spare inch of the planner she keeps with her at all times.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ren replies childishly. Or maybe it’s morosely.
“Your jealousy is hardly in check.” Ben flips throughthe document and grabs his cup of black coffee. Knowing him, it’s not decaf despite the summer sun having already gone down.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She doesn’t look up from her scribbles.
I don’t know how the fuck I ended up here. Back at Fujimori's, when I used to avoid the place like the plague.
Before working with Ren, I kept my distance from this place. I wasn’t looking for more contracts after I finished working with the Irish. I had a list of names the Ghost needed to deal with.
Knowing Isolde hung out here made the decision to keep away from it even easier.
