Page 38 of The Five Year Lie

They leave a few minutes later, hands locked together, pace slow. Neither one of them names a destination, and yet they pass her neighborhood and head toward his little apartment building on Exeter Street.

When they reach his block, it’s the final frontier. He stops in front of his building. “Are you coming inside?” he asks. “Or should I call you an Uber?”

“If I’m going home, you’re coming with me,” she says. “And my roommate will play embarrassingly loud music for us to overhear.”

They’re standing so close together. Practically nose to nose. “That’s a habit of hers?” he asks, buying time to make this decision.

“It’s just payback,” she whispers. “I like to blast Marvin Gaye’s ‘Let’s Get it On’ when her boyfriend comes over.”

He laughs, and they end up tongue-tangled again, right there on the front stoop, until a pair of dog walkers applauds for them as they pass by on the sidewalk.

“Christ,” he breathes, his body on fire. He fishes his keys out of his pocket. “There’s, uh, one more thing you need to know about me. This isn’t my worst scar.” He taps his face, right on the spot where the shrapnel went in.

“So? Everyone knows that chicks dig scars.”

“Yeah, well.” He takes a big breath and tries to slow his racing heart. “The other scar is the kind you need to be prepared for.” He lifts his left shoe off the ground, balancing on his right. And with far more nonchalance than he feels, he tugs the pant leg up so she can see the prosthesis where his calf should be. “I lost part of my leg.”

She lifts wide eyes to his. “Holy fuck, soldier. I had no idea.”

The next few seconds seem to last forever. The guys at Walter Reed coached him to expect a certain amount of shocked rejection. Or—worse—pity.

If this is about to get weird, he just hopes it’s over quickly.

“Look.” Ariel puts a hand in the center of his tightening chest. “I’m sure there’s some exact right thing I’m supposed to say right now. And maybe I can come up with it later. But first you need to take me inside and finish what you started.”

He blinks. Then he blinks again.

She takes the keys out of his hand, climbs the three steps up to his door, finds the right key for the outer door and opens it. “You coming or what?”

That shocks him into action. He follows her into the vestibule and reclaims his keys so he can open the second door. “If you’re sure.”

“Enough with the talking,” she scoffs. “We just went over this.”

He opens his apartment door, tows her inside, and then shuts her up with another kiss.

After that, nobody says more thanOh Godall night long.

13

ARIEL

After lunch with Zain, I prepare an excuse to sneak into Ray’s office—a printed update on our office move that I can leave on his desk.

But he seems glued to his office chair. There’s a meeting with the head of marketing, followed by several phone calls. Hester brings him a late lunch from the Bagel Tree, too, while I wait impatiently for my chance.

Eventually, I watch him answer a call on his mobile phone and then wander out toward the coffee counter on the opposite side of the bullpen.

I glance at Hester, who sits outside Ray’s office. She’s on the phone, too. I’m not going to get another chance as good as this one. So I slip the tape Zain filched into the dark green folder with Ray’s report. Rising from my chair with a straight back and my head held high, I stride into his office.

It takes me a sweaty ten seconds to eye the tapes lined up on the shelf, identifying the next one in the order. I tug it out and slip mine into its place. Then I drop the report onto Ray’s desk and stride out again, the tape casually pinned by my thumb against the folder.

When I step out of Ray’s office, I find that he’s nearly uponme. His phone is still pressed to his ear, and he raises his eyebrows at me, as if asking if I need something.

I give him a smile and go back to my desk.

My heart is pounding, though. I used to be an excellent sneak, and Inevergot nervous. In high school I knew how to climb out of my bedroom window without the security camera—a Chime Co. prototype—alerting anyone. All I had to do was cut through the neighbor’s backyard.

I had no guilt, and I was never afraid.