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No, not a liar, Maddy thinks. But a dirty cop who takes money from drug kingpins and lets young girls be put in harm’s way. Maybe he even thinks he’s helping them out, like some of Belinda’s clients. He might think of himself as a benevolent mentor keeping an eye on them while they work.

The girl looks at Maddy and says, “He’s, like, one of the four NYPD guys we have to pay off. They never pull us in. It’s a whole better deal for them. It sucks for us. But everything sucks for us.”

“Put that fucking flashlight away, girl,” McCarthy says. “I’m going but I’m not going far.”

JoJo practically shrugs. “Like I care, asshole,” she says.

McCarthy walks away. As he stumbles down the street,Maddy takes a closer look at the girl. Her light brown hair is pulled back in a ponytail. She doesn’t wear a speck of makeup.

“You’re JoJo?” Maddy says.

“No. My name is Joanna, but Bobby thinks it’s hilarious to call me JoJo. He’s such a… Listen, can we move this closer to the CVS? I’m waiting for someone.”

And, of course, Maddy realizes what the story is. She speaks slowly and cautiously. “Who are you waiting for?”

Joanna responds quickly. “A ride. Just a friend.” She drops her eyes when she answers, hand fiddling with something in her pocket.

“Let me ask you one more question,” Maddy says softly. “How old are you?”

Joanna still does not speak. So Maddy says, “You must be about fourteen, right?”

No answer. Maddy keeps trying. “Thirteen? Fifteen”

“Try twelve,” Joanna says.

Maddy instinctively reaches toward Joanna and hugs her briefly.

“I got to go back outside the CVS,” the girl says, hand still clutching something in her pocket. “I’ll be in big trouble if I’m not there when my ride comes.”

“Yeah, well. You’re not going to be there when yourridecomes.”

“I’ve got to be,” Joanna says, scared, teary.

“No. Not tonight,” says Maddy. “Tonight you’re going to be staying at my house.”

CHAPTER 28

HAWKEYE, TAPPER, AND I escaped from Cambridge, but we are no better off than we were before. In fact, in my opinion, we are even more confused about the natural crises that are disturbing the entire globe. A plan? We have no plan. Hawkeye, Tapper, Burbank, Margo, and I meet in our conference room. Like bad gossip columnists, we must make something out of nothing.

“Our one source of information was Dr. Henry,” I say to the group, “but he decided to avoid involvement in the most shocking way possible. However…”

Everyone looks up at me. Their faces are so full of hope that I wish I had a better announcement to make. But I go on. “However, Dr. Henry’s suicide itself may be a clue.”

“Well, sure,” says Burbank. “I think we can deduce that the good professor knew this natural disaster situation is impossible, unstoppable. This was the old prof’s way of not waiting to become a victim.”

“We should try to hook up with someone at theEnvironmental Protection Agency of the Americas,” says Tapper. “Surely someone there will know something!”

“Or one of the undersecretaries at Agriculture,” says Burbank.

Margo nods. Then she says, “Someone in this godforsaken world can solve this.”

Then there’s silence in the room. Deadly silence. No ideas at all. No good ideas. No bad ideas. The silence is relentless and infuriating and frustrating, and then… a voice.

“What a bunch,” a familiar voice says; a low chuckle follows. “The only people who can solve this problem are right in this room!”

My heart feels like it’s stopped inside my chest. I’m hearing a voice I thought I’d never hear again, a voice that had been removed from this world forever, lost under tons of dirt and debris in Kyoto.

Jericho Druke stands in front of us—alive and well.