Yes.
Good. What problems did you have after Angelica left you?
Well… when she left, he didn’t.
Shh. McKay. Let me do this. Indie. Who didn’t leave? Are you referring to me, and McKay, and Adam?
No. The other one.
What other one?
The big one. With the dark hair and dark eyes.
…
Does he have a name, Indie?
Mmm-hmm.
What is his name?
Carter.
…
I don’t know a Carter, Indie. Can you tell me who Carter is?
He’s Angelica’s… Adam.
McKay. Let me do this. Indie… Carter… he… runs her? He’s Angelica’s handler?
Mmm-hmmm. He brought her to me.
What the fuck is she talking about?
Shhh. McKay. Please. Why would Cart—why would this guy bring Angelica to you, Indie? Tell me. Why?
Because he knew Nick Tate was after her. And he was hoping Nick would take me instead.
What the actual fuck, Donovan!
McKay. If you interrupt me one more time, I swear to God, I will throw you out. Do you understand? She’s trying to tell us. Let. Her. Talk. Indie. You’re breathing very hard right now. Can you take deep breaths for me?
I’m not supposed to tell anyone. It hurts.
What hurts, Indie?
My head hurts. Like… someone is squeezing it.
…
OK. I’m gonna bring you out—
The hell you are! Indie. Did this man tell you something? Did he… did he give you a secret?
McKay!
Shut the fuck up, Donovan. Someone got to her. Nine fucking years ago! And you didn’t even know! One hundred and ninety times you’ve done this and you didn’t even know! Indie. What did this man tell you?
Secrets.
Did he give you a word? Did he tell you a word, Indie? A word that would… make you do things?
My head hurts.
That’s enough, McKay. I’m gonna bring you out—
Indie. Did you ever see this man again?
Yes. He came all the time.
When?
He came that day. Just a voice. Just a voice on the phone.
I’m gonna count to ten now, Indie. And when I get to ten, you will be awake and you will not remember—
Fuck you, Donovan! Indie—
One.
Indie. What was the word? Tell us the fucking word!
Two.
I can’t tell you. He’ll know.
Three.
He’s not gonna know, Indie. I promise.
Four.
Stop counting, Donovan!
Five.
He called me to tell me happy birthday. And that it was going to be a wonderful day. That I would have all the love I could ever want if I just did as I was told.
Six.
What did he tell you to do?
Seven.
He said I needed to hand Maggie over to Nathan. And then—
Eight.
Donovan! Shut the fuck up!
—and then he would take over.
Nine.
Take over what? Indie? Take over what?
Me.
Ten.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - ADAM
PRESENT DAY
She baked cupcakes.
I know that’s a stupid place to start with all the other things that happened that day. But I’ve thought about her twentieth birthday for four years, trying to force it to make sense, and it all goes back to the cupcakes.
Indie didn’t cook. She might’ve tried a few times when she was living with Nathan those few months before Maggie was born, and she did try to cook Thanksgiving once after Maggie was born, but she was no cook. McKay took her feeding seriously. He did almost all the cooking. And Indie was too busy playing in the swamp to take much notice of what he was doing or how he did it.
And as far as I could remember, never once did she bake.
But she put the dress on early too. A birthday dress.
It was a gift I had been giving her since she turned eleven. I think it was maybe McKay’s idea, at first. But it became my thing over the years.
He and I were still trying to understand this girl and how best to raise her up to be able to do the things the Company was asking her to do, but also the things we’d want her to do, if we ever did manage to take the Company down.
And yes. She was my weapon. But I didn’t want to hurt her. I wanted her to be as well-adjusted as she could. Live a nice, almost-normal life in between jobs.
It was hard. I’m not gonna lie. It was very hard. McKay had brothers, but he was the youngest. Population control was something the Company took seriously so the how the McKay family got three boys, I never did understand. Nor did I ask. Probably should’ve. But it didn’t matter in the end. McKay’s whole family was killed when the Company fell. Gun dealers were one of the first targets. Supply chain and all that. But that wasn’t the only reason they were first on the list.
Anyway. Back to the dress and the cupcakes…
Everything about that day was weird from the start. Indie’s birthday was a big deal for us, as well as her. Ten was young by anyone’s standards. A ten-year-old wasn’t much use in our line of work. A smart, capable twelve-year-old like Sasha Cherlin—that was something else entirely. But Indie was no Sasha. She would never be Sasha. Sasha’s father took very good care of her from day one. I wouldn’t go so far to call that man one of the good guys, because he went along just like everyone else and Sasha was dragged into this fucked-up life by his actions, but he did his best and his best was damn good.
Indie, on the other hand, didn’t have that kind of upbringing until she came to live with us. And the first year was mostly us trying to calm her down. Tame her into something that resembled a child. So we did holidays right and by the time her eleventh birthday rolled around she was making good progress.
McKay was planning a party. He wanted something special because we couldn’t do anything big. She didn’t go to school so her only friend was Nathan.
Back then we were much more tolerant of Nathan. He was a very good influence on her in those days.
We came up with this idea that her birthday would be a garden party in the pavilion, which had quickly become her favorite place once McKay was done building it. She would lie on that swing all summer long in the evenings after dinner.
I hired a seamstress to make Indie a special dress for her birthday. And every year we would dress up and have a nice dinner outside. Then we would go down to the lake and float candle boats across the water and send paper lanterns up into the sky.