Chapter 8: They Asked For Me Too

I did not answer Leland's message.

I stood by Simon's car with the photo still open on my phone and said one sentence to the man holding the door.

"Tell Mr. Rathbone it's tonight, and it's the east dock."

He nodded and was already speaking into his collar.

Two days earlier, I had told Simon over his office desk that I expected a threat.

He had asked for nothing more, and I still did not know why.

A black sedan pulled up behind us, with its hazards on.

Leland leaned out of the driver's window.

"Get in. Now."

"Where's Hugh?"

"In the back. Please, Imogen."

I looked at the photo of my sister once more.

I had wanted this proof so badly in the first life, and now I had it, and my hands were cold.

I got into the back seat.

Hugh sat there already, folded into the corner, with his chair collapsed on the floor beside him.

He did not look up.

"Drive," he said.

Leland pulled out, too fast, and the Harbor Club slid away behind us.

For several streets nobody spoke.

I watched the traffic lights and counted them and let my breath go slowly.

Simon's grey sedan stayed three blocks behind us for two turns and then turned down a side street, as I had asked.

"They asked for you by name," Hugh said at last.

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