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REN

Beaufort, South Carolina

R en entered his apartment and dropped his duffle in the middle of the floor. His mood was a cloud of swamp gas, following him from room to room. Newton jumped onto the couch beside him and rested his soft head on Ren’s thigh.

He had searched for Stella for a week and found next to nothing.

A man in Roanoke reported laundry missing from his clothesline.

A woman had her wallet stolen from her grocery cart.

Bread crumbs that formed a trail to nowhere.

Ren had hoped maybe Stella was fleeing another threat, but she had left him no clues and no way to reach her.

It was slowly dawning on Ren that the person Stella was escaping was him.

Ren didn’t understand why. Stella told him she loved him in those dark woods. Granted, he hadn’t said it back, but he was about to.

Stella didn’t know that, though.

She should know. I told her without words.

Maybe she’s not a mind reader.

Fuck.

The back and forth continued to the edge of insanity.

Ren finally stood and walked over to the envelope on his desk.

The Post-it note from Twitch stuck on top read: “ Did a second sweep—I only found the one button camera. Your apartment is secure. ” He opened the flap and examined the device.

He wasn’t disgusted or angry at the sight; his heart warmed at the idea of Stella watching him.

He closed the envelope and wandered into the bedroom.

Sitting on the end of his mattress, elbows on knees, Ren examined the situation like a problem he couldn’t solve. Why hadn’t he simply told her how he felt?

Ren groaned in frustration. Nothing about their journey had gone as planned.

Falling for Stella had happened in spite of him, not because of him.

All of the fights and fumbling and scares and laughs had only deepened his feelings for her.

In a most unmathematical way, Ren realized something incredible.

In love, it was the mistakes that led to the solution.

A knock on the door interrupted his analysis. Could it be?

Eyeing the brown uniform through the peephole, Ren swallowed his disappointment and opened the door.

“Hey, Ren.”

“Hi, Tito.”

“Hey, Newton, buddy.” Tito fished in his pocket for a treat and tossed it to the dog.

“Got a delivery for Gallileo Jameson. That your dad or something?”

“Or something. You can put it on the table.” Ren extended his arm toward the kitchen.

“Weighs a ton. Floor okay?”

“Yeah.”

Tito pushed the handcart into the room and deposited the box on the hardwood. “Have a good day, man.”

“Thanks, you too.”

Ren hadn’t ordered anything, but the name on the label had him curious. Maybe his dad had sent it. Grabbing a knife from the block in the kitchen, he sliced through the packing tape and opened the box. For a solid minute, he stood stone still, staring at the contents.

With shaking hands, he opened the white envelope sitting on top.

Ren-

I called in a few favors. (Hyperion has a very long reach.) Enclosed are the sixty remaining copies of your mother’s book about you.

The sixty-first copy was accidentally dropped in a toilet and subsequently discarded.

(Thought you’d like that.) I also confirmed with the publisher that no additional copies were printed, and the original manuscript has been destroyed. Sorry to miss the bonfire.

With love,

Stella

Suddenly, the equation made sense. It was easy to solve because it was simple. There were no sines or cosines or tangents or secants.

He loved Stella.

Nothing else mattered.

R en made it to the Bishop Security office in record time. Finn and Twitch were side-by-side in the cybersecurity room, looking at a spreadsheet on her screen. Chat’s station sat empty, and for a moment, Ren felt the pain of his friend’s absence. He could have used Chat’s infallible intuition.

Finn assessed him with an amused expression. He nudged his girl. “I think someone figured it out.”

Twitch looked up, and her confusion morphed into a beaming smile. “You love Stella.”

“Like a house on fire.”

Finn clapped once. “About fucking time.”

Twitch ran her thumb across Finn’s scarred cheek. “Glass houses, Baby.”

Finn kissed her palm. “What now?”

“How do I find her?”

Twitch stood and halted Ren’s pacing. “I don’t think we can. Stella’s an expert at disappearing. We won’t find her if she doesn’t want to be found.”

“There has to be a way.”

“Maybe you should ask Calvin how he did it,” Twitch said.

“Where is he, by the way?”

“Nathan sent him home.”

Finn asked, “Did she mention any plans? Any place she’d like to live? With Hyperion dismantled, she could be out of the game or working for another agency.”

Twitch added, “We don’t know if she’s on a new assignment. We don’t even know if she’s in the U.S.”

Ren sank into an empty chair. “Great.”

Twitch stood over him with her hands on her hips. “Hey, who loves a challenge more than me?”

Ren muttered, “Nobody.”

“I’m not saying she can’t be found. I’m saying it’ll take some time. Give me a few days, and I’ll let you know.”

Ren stood with a defeated sigh and fished his key fob from his pocket. “Okay, thanks.”

A lone in his apartment, Ren stared at the box of books in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Stella had managed to do something he couldn’t, even after years of trying.

With a frustrated groan, he pulled off his T-shirt and headed for the shower.

Halfway across the room, Ren stopped at his desk and picked up the envelope containing the surveillance device.

Sliding the small object into his palm, he wondered. ..

It was a Hail Mary, but what did he have to lose?

Ren affixed the button camera to the desk lamp. Then, he scribbled the note and taped it to the pencil cup directly in front of the lens.

Satisfied with his effort, Ren continued to the bathroom. He’d scour the earth to find her, but those books gave Ren a flicker of hope that she was still thinking about him. He didn’t know if Stella would ever see his message, but it was there in black and white.