Page 76

5:16 p.m.

I ’ m so alone that I seek out my parents. I find them in their bedroom, where Pa is getting ready for this evening’s 60 Minutes interview at the Death-Cast offices in Hollywood to reflect on the ten-year anniversary and promote his upcoming memoir.

Ma is pushing for Pa to wear this navy-blue Dior suit, but I go into his closet and pull a lilac Chanel suit he’s yet to wear.

Styling my father is a good distraction from all my feelings.

I take a seat on their daybed with Bucky, recounting my difficult discussion with Rio. I can see my parents calculating how

friendless I am.

“I am so sorry,” Ma says.

“It will all work out, mi hijo,” Pa says.

“That’s what you said about Ariana,” I say. Word for word , I should add.

“Life’s pains do not heal overnight,” Pa says, stealing glances at my bandaged arm. “But they will all heal.”

The stitches will close my wounds, but what will repair my heart and my soul? Time and time alone will take too long. I’m

not sure I have it in me to wait, especially as my life continues to unravel, taking others down with me along the way.

“When do I need to be at the office again?” Pa asks, selecting his watch.

Normally I would know his itinerary off the top of my head, but I haven’t really been as active since my assassination attempt.

I log in to my company account and search through the many new emails that Aster Gomez has copied me on for Death-Cast duties.

The most recent email is about Orion Pagan’s film adaptation. She’s shared a press release from today about the casting of

Death. Even though I know it’s not possible, I hope anyway to find Paz’s name. An actor named Bodie LaBoy has been cast and

Aster is wondering if we should extend gala invites to him and the other lead, Zen Abarca, since Orion’s story is so heavily

influenced by the first End Day.

“The time?” Pa asks again.

“Oh.” I quickly find the itinerary. “Six thirty.”

“Thank you.”

I return to the casting announcement, wishing I could’ve pulled some strings to get Paz into this movie.

“What’s this look on your face?” Ma asks.

At first I think she’s talking about Pa until she calls my name. “I’m concerned about Paz,” I say, stopping my father in his

tracks as I explain everything about Paz’s attachment to that role in Golden Heart . “He got so close with the audition but wasn’t selected because of the controversy around his name.”

“That movie dodged a bullet,” Pa says.

That terrible phrasing thrusts me back into that night where I stopped Paz from shooting himself and then the night before, when Harry Hope shot himself. “Paz almost killed himself over this movie before,” I say, glaring at Pa. “His conditions are only worse now.”

“Conditions he created,” Pa says.

“Do you hold him responsible for shooting his father?” I ask.

“Of course not, but I will not give a nineteen-year-old the same courtesy I would a nine-year-old, especially when my son

was the target this time around.”

He’s so defensive of me that he’s not recognizing Paz as someone else’s son.

“We should alert his parents of the threat,” Ma says. At least she remembers.

“They don’t know that he self-harms or tried killing himself recently,” I say.

Ma sits beside me on the daybed. “Do you believe he’ll harm himself over this?”

“He promised a couple nights ago that he wasn’t going to self-harm anymore, but...”

“But heartbreak turns people inside out.”

I imagine Paz literally inside out with his broken heart trapped between his rib cage with deep cuts across the body; it’s

an image I immediately wish I could forget.

After Agent Dane and I left the amusement park yesterday, accompanied by three other Shield-Cast agents, I shared my concerns

about Paz self-harming, which shouldn’t have been that surprising to me since I knew he’d attempted suicide, but I was still

caught off guard.

“There are always physical and psychosocial signs,” Agent Dane had said before sharing some common examples. Impulsive behaviors, self-isolating, overeating or undereating, and even overexercising. He’d noticed Paz’s mood swings, but nothing physical like missing patches of hair or wearing long sleeves during summer to hide unexplained bruises, cuts, or burns. Where Paz self-harms is as big a mystery to eagle-eyed Agent Dane as it is to me. “If parents as loving and attentive as Gloria and Rolando aren’t picking up on the signs, then Paz must be acting his ass off.”

“He’s an actor,” I reminded Dane.

“Did he share his method? No sharp objects turned up during the bedroom inspection.”

Agent Dane still doesn’t know his eagle eye missed the knife hidden in Paz’s decoy journal.

“He’s cutting, but I don’t know where on his body.” I’ve never seen any scarring on his arms, and I can rule out his legs

after seeing Paz in basketball shorts yesterday. Still, there is so much of Paz’s body I never got to explore.

Even after Paz almost punched me, I was still tempted to go check on him, but I was concerned that my appearance might upset

him further.

“Do you want to call him?” Ma asks.

“Naya, why would you say such a thing?” Pa asks.

“ is concerned about his friend,” Ma says firmly and lovingly.

“His enemy,” Pa says, firmer and loveless. It’s as if Paz has been put in the same camp as Mac Maag, who actually tried killing me. “If you are so concerned about him, mi hijo, then turn on the news. The reporters who have been outside his house all day will certainly be tracking whether he has left.”

My concern for Paz skyrockets knowing there’s been a beaming spotlight on his house all day. I pull out my phone and go online

to various newsfeeds and find clips of Paz’s house. What if Paz snaps like Caspian Townsend and gets killed? I’ve never been

more tempted to break employee code by reaching out to a Death-Cast office to confirm if someone is a Decker.

Would Paz tell me if today is his End Day?

I reflect on this while staring out the window, up at the sky that’s too bright, considering how dark this day has been. “I’m

going to call Paz,” I say, ignoring my parents’ protests as I rush out of the bedroom.

My mother chases after me. “.”

I keep walking.

“You’re not calling him,” she says. “You’re going to him, aren’t you?”

I stop in my tracks. “Please don’t try to talk me out of it,” I say without turning around.

“A mother is allowed to worry,” Ma says, catching up and facing me. “Tell me why you must do this.”

“You told me to guard my heart in case I can’t save Paz forever, but making sure he’s alive is guarding my heart.” Even if

I’m dead to him.

I regret not being more careful with Paz’s heart the first time around.

My mother brings my hands up to her mouth and kisses my knuckles. There’s pride and fear in her teary eyes. “I love you, my miracle, and as much as it scares me to watch you try to play miracle worker, I love your heart for guiding you toward compassion. This world is so hard, and I endured so much to bring you into it that I questioned if all those miscarriages were the world’s way of trying to show me mercy. Those concerns only sharpened when Joaquin first told me about the secret that would become Death-Cast. It made this world scarier to bring a child into, but I was finally pregnant with you, and I didn’t want that to change.” She looks at me like I’m a newborn all over again. “But your father’s vision for Death-Cast was worth bringing to life too. We had to take these leaps of faith and now here we are. Death-Cast has made life easier for millions around the world and you have made life brighter for me and your father.” She wipes her tears and smiles. “And I believe you made Paz’s life brighter too. If you must go make sure that his soul has not darkened, I will not stop you, but”—Ma squeezes my hand, just like I did with Paz’s when we were on the Hollywood Sign—“please come back to me.”

I wait for Ma to threaten that she won’t live in this world without me like Ms. Gloria did to Paz, but I’m relieved that it

never comes. No matter how hard life would be if I died, I want my mother to keep going. Paz feels the same way about his

mother.

“I’m coming back to you, Ma.”

“I believe your intention, but I don’t know your fate. If you go to Paz, do you trust him with your life?”

After hearing my mother’s story about the Death-Cast secret, it’s only made me feel more confident in taking this leap of faith to be there for a boy who I fully trust isn’t a Death Guarder.

“I trust Paz with my life,” I say.

“Then go get peace of mind that he isn’t harming himself and wishes no harm on you.”