Page 31 of Waters that Drown Us
It would be difficult. Hiding from The Syndicate would have been near-impossible anyway, but with Deniz by Clara’s side, the chances of escaping their oversight are even slimmer. But anything is possible if I’m doing it for her. We could find somewhere new, somewhere by the water so Alice could bereminded of her mother, somewhere where Ilya and Konstantin and Clara couldn’t find us.
I could shed everything I am. Permanently become the version Alice knows, constantly working behind the scenes to keep us safe. It would be hard, and painful, and so overwhelmingly sad. But I could do it.
The only other alternative is coming clean and telling Alice the truth. Explaining why I’m here, who I am, how I can protect her from her father. She’d likely balk at the idea of killing him—most normal people don’t wish death on others, even the ones who have wronged them. I can’t and won’t stop Clara, Charlie, and Deniz from getting the revenge they’re owed. But if she knew the whole story she might understand.
Maybe I can bring her under the protection of The Syndicate of Fate. Turn her into a witness for us, a fully-informed and consenting one who would have a say in the way her father and fiancé are handled.
Or she might feel too betrayed to consider it. She could try to run, or turn back to her father. And I would have no way to stop Clara from handling the threat to our family and organization.
I imagine Alice’s hand hovering over that viola once more, and a sense of grief and protectiveness I’ve never felt until today floods me again. When I bought that instrument and had one of our Syndicate operatives sell it in this pawn shop, I never thought it would elicit such a reaction from her. I had hoped it might remind her of something that clearly once brought her joy. I thought she might share more with me, not because I need the information for my mission, but because I’m desperate to know her in every way imaginable.
The way she froze. The obvious fear in someone so brave. It tore me to pieces, more than any lie I’ve told, or any method I’ve used to manipulate her.
I was planning to re-buy it for her either way. But after seeing her face, after hearing the agony in the few words she shared, I would have given the world to make sure she knows nothing about her is insignificant or childish. Everything she loves is important.
A pop up reminder dings on my Syndicate phone, informing me that I have five minutes until our meeting, where I need to stare at the only people I’ve ever loved and decide how much I’m willing to lie. Decide if I can let them go for her.
I push the thought of leaving Alice to fend for herself here out of my mind. Ilyacannottouch her. I will not allow it. And I also won’t put her in danger of her father’s retribution. I have to find a way to make this work.
I have to find a way to keep her.
I take as many deep, calming breaths as I can, waiting until the last possible second to log onto the encrypted meeting platform.
Everyone’s already here, and they are all notably silent.
I’ve been avoiding updating them, and I know they’re pissed. Worried too, that I’m failing and this mission will be a fruitless, useless waste of time.
Bea is calling in from her phone, but I can barely see her face with how dark the room is. I have no idea what time zone she’s in, much less what country. I hardly ever know what Bea is doing anymore.
Charlie has his arm around Gwen, rubbing his thumb into the crook of her neck like he’s working out her tension. Both their faces look wound as tightly as possible, though, and Gwen’s sporting a pretty serious bruise under her left eye.
Clara and Deniz are also side by side, but they don’t touch. Deniz’s hands are busy navigating a mouse and typing soundlessly on a computer. Clara has her fingers interlaced infront of her. Maybe to resist reaching through the camera and throttling me.
“Meeting is in session,” she begins unceremoniously, the irritation from our last family gathering clearly blossoming into something closer to rage. “Updates, Emily.”
I imagine Alice sitting next to me like Gwen and Deniz do for their partners. An impossible future, and one I don’t even know if I want.
“I believe the best course of action from here forward would be to bring Alice in as an informed witness in our operation against her father.”
Clara’s lips tighten into a thin line, and I watch Charlie’s grip tighten on Gwen’s shoulder. Clara didn’t ask for recommendations, she asked for an update. But I have to be three steps ahead or everything will fall apart. It likely will anyway, but I have to try.
“I have made progress in learning about her relationship with her father, but I’m unconvinced I’ll be able to get specifics about his operations from her without guaranteeing protection,” I say, avoiding revealinghowI came to learn about the emotional distance between them. “Alice believes that any slip-up revealing her past or true identity could bring Ilya or her father to her doorstep. She is incredibly careful, and while she weaves enough truth into her admissions for me to feel confident she has no loyalty to him, she needs to know we can protect her.”
“You’re advocating for bringing the daughter of the man who tried to kill our Matriarch, whosucceededin killing innocents, under our protection?” Clara asks, the question so poisoned with disbelief it sounds almost rhetorical. Deniz flinches, barely. His brother was among the casualties, the collateral damage in Konstantin’s attempt to rid the world of his only true enemy.
“If she’s to be a useful informant, then yes,” I argue, sitting with my hands under my thighs so I don’t wring them or pick at my nails and show how nervous I am.
“You personally admitted during our last meeting that her information about Konstantin’s operations was likely outdated. You can’t have it both ways, Emily. She’s either useful as an informant, and we can get that information from her by force, or she’s useful as bait.”
“I believe those strategies are shortsighted,” I say in a measured tone, even though my words are inherently inflammatory. Clara can take criticism, feedback, even an argument when she’s in a good mood. Sometimes she encourages it.
She is not in a good mood right now. And I’m not bargaining with my cousin, I’m doing so with The Matriarch.
“Emily…” Charlie warns, but Clara cuts him off with a wave of her hand.
“You accuse me of shortsightedness, but your operation is only one small piece in an endless, intricate arrangement of gears we are moving that you are blissfully unaware of.” I bite my lip to keep another argument from slipping off my tongue. “Did you think we would let the reputation of The Syndicate of Fate be determined by your ability to pluck information from this ghost of a girl? What do you think the rest of us have been doing while you’ve been looking for your sea creatures and mooning over this woman?”
She knows. Maybe not about my history with Alice, but she knows I harbor a soft spot for her. Perhaps it was inevitable. Other than Charlie, I’m the worst at masking my emotions. I attempt to do better now, etching my neutral expression in stone, but it doesn’t work.