Page 10

Tessa really did look like a stranger.

Tommy sat on a bench near Platform Three, pretending to read the day’s newspaper. Six feet away, she perched on another bench, legs crossed, her expression unreadable.

He preferred her natural hair color and couldn’t get used to the change in her eyes. She insisted they act as strangers, and they had purchased tickets separately. Still, it was a challenge not to stare at her.

A man in a business suit dropped into the space next to her. He was balding, overweight, and sweating profusely. Tessa appeared not to notice, but Tommy bristled at the man’s invasion of her personal space. The guy dabbed at his damp forehead and started making small talk.

Tommy eavesdropped as the guy’s irritating, nasal voice grated on his nerves. Tessa barely acknowledged him, tapping away on her phone as if playing a computer game. Like so many assholes, the guy didn’t take the hint, asking her what was so interesting as he glanced at her screen.

She didn’t stop tapping and slid down the bench away from him.

Tommy knew she could take care of herself, but he still wanted to charge in and do something. Tell the guy to get lost or strike up a conversation with her in order to snub the asshole. It was everything he could do to stay planted in his seat.

The guy huffed and took out his own phone while Tessa peeked at Tommy, feeling his glare. She gave him a slight shake of her head and returned to her phone.

She’d changed into an ugly business suit, but even with the plain clothes and transformation of her naturally beautiful features, something about her caused people to do a double take. He doubted the chubby, balding asshole would be the only one to attempt to talk to her.

Tommy folded the paper and moved closer to a spot across from her. When she didn’t look up, he cleared his throat. “Nice day for a train ride,”

he said, his voice just loud enough to carry to her.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes barely flicking up to meet his. She arched one brow, giving him a death glare. “Don’t,”

she said under her breath, but he heard it.

Baldy must have, too. He glanced toward them, and Tommy looked away, studying one of the boards over the far gates. When the asshole went back to his own business, Tommy got up and sat on a bench behind Tessa. With their backs to each other, he could speak more quietly and not draw attention while still teasing her. Snapping out the paper, he hid behind it as he said, “Don’t what? Makes small talk? I’m just being friendly.”

She didn’t appreciate the teasing note in his voice, nor his risky behavior. “Stop it,”

she hissed. “What part of we’re supposed to be strangers did you not understand?”

“Strangers make small talk. Just like the ahole down from you tried to.”

Her exasperated sigh was music to his ears. “If you’re trying to annoy me, it’s working.”

A snort escaped him before he could stop it. He wished he could see her face. The image of her laughing earlier, the sound of it as they fled the boutique, had stuck with him. It wasn’t the same laugh he’d heard before—the dry, sarcastic kind she used like armor. This had been real, unguarded, and unexpected.

He wanted to hear it again.

“Pretend I’m flirting with you. Trying to impress you.”

“You’re going to have to try harder.”

He chuckled again. “You’re tough on a guy’s ego, you know that?”

A group of loud travelers passed by, and he fell silent but lowered the paper to track them.

That’s when he saw her.

Or thought he did.

It was just a flash—a face in the crowd, partially obscured by a scarf and a mass of people weaving toward the exit. But for a heartbeat, Tommy could’ve sworn it was Jessie. The tilt of her chin, the way she turned her head. The dark hair slipping from under her hood…

His breath caught and jammed in his throat.

Not Jessie. Jessie is dead. I buried her.

And yet… He stood, dropping the paper, his legs moving before his brain caught up. “Hey!”

he shouted, shoving past the loud tourists gathered before him.

The figure turned a corner and disappeared into a stream of commuters. His heart pounded, and he forced his way through the crowds, scanning every face and figure for a glimpse of familiarity. Overhead, the drone of announcements faded into the background.

He couldn’t help himself. “Jessie,”

he shouted. Heads turned, but none of them belonged to her. By the time he reached the end of the corridor, she had vanished.

He braced a hand on a pillar, sucking in a breath as the cold reality settled over him.

He was losing it. My sister is dead. What is wrong with me?

It hadn’t been her at the cemetery after her burial. It hadn’t been her in Bucharest before the embassy attack. His mind had been playing tricks on him then. It was now, too.

When he headed back to the bench, Tessa was striding down the corridor toward him, hands on her hips and a frown etched into her face. Both brows went up in question, and he shook his head, veering away from the crowd to stop with his back against one of the cement walls of the station. He needed it to brace himself.

She spoke under her breath. “What the hell was that?”

Tommy hesitated. She wouldn’t let it go if he tried to brush her off, but he didn’t have the energy to get into it. “Just my mind playing tricks on me.”

The frown deepened. “Come on.”

She led him outside, where the noise of the station faded. They moved to a section where smokers and those searching for rides hung out. She scanned him from head to toe, her eyes dissecting him as if she could see straight through to his brain. To all the secrets he was trying to keep from her. From himself. “Well?”

He ran a hand through his short hair, missing his longer locks, and exhaled hard. “It’s stupid.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I’d rather you didn’t think I was delusional.”

She moved so she was next to him, her back to the wall. People came and went, but they paid no attention to them. Still, she pulled out her phone and began tapping again. They were back to being strangers.

Was it because she was so stubborn or because he wouldn’t confess the truth, and she was pissed?

Several minutes passed, and dozens of travelers swept by them. Announcements came over the loudspeakers. Tommy replayed what had happened in his mind. All the excuses he’d given himself before bubbled up hot and acidic to batter him: It was a trick of the light. It was just someone who looked similar to her. You were thinking about her this morning, and so you brought her to life, transferring what you wish for onto someone else.

“We should probably go back inside,” he said.

She pushed off the wall and started to march past him.

Seeing her stiff posture, something inside him broke. “I thought I saw Jessie.”

She stopped in mid-stride. “What?”

“It’s happened three times in the past year.”

He whirled a finger around his temple. “Grief has screwed with my brain.”

As if unsure how to respond, she backed herself against the wall again. Cigarette smoke lingered in the air. Disbelief tinged her voice. “Your sister, Jessie.”

“After her funeral, I thought I saw her at the cemetery. One day before the embassy riot, I was heading to work, and I thought I saw her getting into a car with some guy. It always seems to happen in crowds. Talking about her this morning must have put her front and center in my mind, and then I saw someone who looked like her. That’s all.”

Her posture relaxed. “Perfectly normal. I still think I see my stepdad sometimes, and he’s been dead for twenty years.”

“Dead?”

“He was stabbed during a prison riot.”

“Well, that sucks for both of us. Yet, hearing that you hallucinate a dead person, too, makes me feel somewhat better. Maybe I’m not losing my shit, after all.”

She didn’t argue. “There’s a region of the brain called the right fusiform face area. It’s strongly associated with processing the patterns of human facial features. It’s why we can spot the faces of our loved ones in a sea of strangers. When it gets activated, it drowns out other conflicting messages. It’s like a megaphone at a town hall meeting. Of course, like many other processes in human brains, it’s easily tricked into making mistakes.”

“Do I want to know how you know that?”

“Research. When I thought I saw my stepdad, I looked into it.”

She flicked a glance at him. “Is there anything else you’re not telling me?”

He stiffened. She was like a lie detector—she always seemed to know when he was holding back.

“Tommy.”

Her voice was firm and too much like Jessie’s had been when she was mothering him. “Whatever it is, spit it out.”

The debate still raged inside him. It shouldn’t be an issue, but it was. He knew she wasn’t going to take it well. “Meg lied. About the virus on the USB.”

Her body tensed. “Explain.”

“There is a virus on it,”

he admitted. “But not one Del wouldn’t catch. He’s too good. I put it there so if morons like Hagar or his death squad got hold of the thing, they would trigger the virus, and it would delete all the information on the USB. It’s well encrypted, but you never know. A computer genius like Del would have seen that virus and disabled it before it triggered.”

“Why would Meg tell me differently?”

“Why do you think? “

“She has no reason to be dishonest.”

“Doesn’t she? Do you think she and Flynn trust you more than they do me?”

Her jaw tightened, but she said nothing.

“And before you ask,”

he continued, “no, I didn’t put anything else dangerous on there. I added data I was gathering about the Russian investors, the computer company providing the sabotaged hardware, and some other stuff to the items Jessie had on it.”

“What other stuff?”

There was no way he was telling her about the thread he’d been following. The evidence suggesting Jessie had ties to Hager and the Russian investors—and not because she was trying to expose them. He didn’t believe it—couldn’t believe it—but he hadn’t been able to let it go. Not until he had proof either way.

Which was one of the reasons he needed to retrace Jessie’s footsteps. “Nothing that’s important at the moment.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Before she could respond, the loudspeaker crackled, announcing their train’s departure. “That’s us,”

he said, straightening.

Tessa grabbed his arm. “We’re not done with this discussion.”

Of course, they weren’t. “I know,”

he said, tugging out of her grip. “But it will have to wait.”

They ran for the platform and were blocked by a group of tourists. He didn’t want to be separated from Tessa, but she refused to let him guide her through the throng. He did his best to create a path for her, but people kept getting in the way.

Some guy knocked her backpack off. She shoved him aside to retrieve it. By the time she’d done that and cut through the rest of the crowd, the final announcement for their train had gone out.

The platform they needed was on the other side of the station. Strangers or not, they both took off sprinting, dodging people, pets, and luggage, creating an obstacle course for them.

As they raced the last few steps, they received a stern look and a lecture from the conductor. “Cutting it close, aren’t you?”

They handed him their tickets, and neither said a word.

He waved them inside and closed the doors right before the train took off.