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“I just don’t think Dante’s capable of something like that. Especially because he has no reason to do it. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He broke your heart,” Seamus says.
Anna gazes out the window, barely able to see black sky peeking through white snow. “He did. But he’s making up for it now. He’s the one who gathered the proof and sent it to Aunt Retta. Headmitted it to me. Apparently, he hates his father as much as we do.”
“I highly doubt that,” Seamus says.
Anna considers telling him what else she learned from Dante. That her mother and Kenneth Wentworth had once been engaged. That the main reason all of this happened is a longtime grudge held by a bitter, heartbroken man. She ultimately decides not to. Since it makes her feel worse, she can only imagine what it will be like for Seamus to learn that his brother was just an innocent bystander in all of it.
“Dante is on our side,” she says. “Without him, we wouldn’t be here.”
Seamus rolls his eyes. “I’ll be sure to thank him next time I see him. If we live to see Chicago, that is.”
“You’re worried that we won’t?”
“Yes,” Seamus says. “And if we do make it, I’m worried about what comes after.”
Anna understands, for she feels the same. They’ve spent years grieving and raging, seething and plotting. All of it leading to this night, this train, this moment. And in a few hours—five, by Anna’s schedule—it will all be over. Justice will be served, the guilty will pay, and they’ll no longer have any need to rage, seethe, or plot.
It will be a life that Anna has no idea how to live. For so long, her entire existence has revolved around retribution. She can’t imagine a future in which that isn’t the case. How sad that is, she realizes. How utterly pathetic that this has been her only focus in life.
“What are you going to do when it’s all over?” she asks Seamus, hoping that he’s not like her, that he has at least one other thing to build a life around.
“No clue,” Seamus says. “Whenever I think about the future, all I see is a black nothingness. No matter how much I try to envision one, that’s all I can picture. Nothing. Just a void.”
“You’ll figure it out. We both will.”
For Anna, that involves getting a job. This trip has cost her everything. There’s nothing left of her aunt’s inheritance. And while Anna likes the thought of working, she also knows she has zero marketable skills. Unless someone wants to hire a full-time revenge-trip coordinator, she’s going to have to start at the bottom.
“Youwill,” Seamus says. “Me? Not so much. I mean, will we even see each other again after this?”
“Of course,” Anna says, even though she has her doubts. She can’t think of a single reason why she and Seamus would continue to interact once the night is over. They have nothing in common. Only this. And while it’s been enough to get them through the past year, she’s uncertain it can sustain any form of friendship beyond it.
“Right,” Seamus says, pretending to believe her.
A silence settles between them, but it’s not the companionable kind that Anna has grown accustomed to. Those evenings when, after a long day of plotting, they shared a hushed dinner or a quiet hour of reading in the vast expanse of Aunt Retta’s library. This silence brings with it a tension born of emotions unexpressed and words unspoken.
“Anna,” Seamus says, shattering the quiet.
He points to the floor, where a thin line of red has started to roll beneath the door to Room A.
Blood.
A single rivulet oozing along the carpet.
Anna rushes to the door and knocks, the sound echoing through the car. “Mr. Pulaski? Are you okay in there?”
When no response comes, she tries again. “Herb?”
Anna twists the doorknob. It doesn’t budge. The door is still locked.
“I’m getting Agent Davis,” Seamus says before sprinting from the car.
Anna remains at the door, pounding on it, shouting Herb’s name, pleading for a response even though deep down she already understands that one won’t arrive. When knocking doesn’t work, she tries the handle again, panic making her think that this time it will open, that she’d just done it wrong on her prior attempt.
By then, Seamus has returned with Reggie. He’s removed his tie since Anna last saw him, the top button of his white shirt undone.
“He’s locked in,” she says in a panic. “I think he’s hurt.”