Chapter 9: You'll Go Home When They Call

Talbot drove me home at sunrise in a gray truck that smelled of coffee and wet dog.

He did not ask me to talk, and I did not.

At the building, he came up the four flights behind me and stood in the doorway of my apartment.

The mattress still had the shape of Ivy's body on it.

The mug she had held was on the floor.

On the sweatshirt she had left behind there was a rust-colored spot the size of a coin.

I picked up the mug and set it on the counter.

Then I picked it up again and threw it at the wall.

It broke into four clean pieces.

"She let go," I said. "I held on to that rail and she told me to let go."

"I heard."

"Why would she do that? I'd have fought them all night."

"Maybe that's why."

I turned around.

He was leaning on the doorframe with his arms folded, tired and unshaven.

"She didn't want you to fight them there," he said. "Her eyes weren't scared. I watched. She had a plan."

"You don't know that."

"Did you see her mouth the last word?"

"Gala."

"That's a plan."

I stared at him.

I wanted so badly for him to be right that it made me furious.

"Don't be reasonable at me," I said. "I'm angry. I want somebody to be angry with me."

"All right."

"I want you to be angry that he took her out of there. That he said that to me in front of the nurses."

"I am angry." His voice was quiet and rough. "I'm so angry I had to sit in the truck for ten minutes before I came up."

My breath caught.

I crossed the room before I thought.

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