41

"Actually, could you give me a moment, Hennrey?"

He smiled at the mention of his name, but I could see the wariness in his eyes.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to miss the press conference today."

"Yes, ma'am."

Grabbing my phone, I pulled up the news article about Quinton's death and turned the video to mute.

It was a short clip—not more than six or seven seconds—and as I watched it now, I realized how odd it looked.

I'd walked down this very hallway. Quinton was at least six inches taller than me, but in the video, his shoulders were barely level with the edging along the wall. And even stranger, as he walked, I noticed that his steps were short and stunted, his arms swinging wider than Quinton's usually did.

In fact...the way Quinton walked.…

"No fucking way."

I threw up my hands, as I paced in front of the brick fireplace in Alistair's living room. "That's exactly what I said."

Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, Ophelia, I don't mean that as a term of shock. I mean that as a term of, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into again?"

Alistair had known about my previous hacking jobs. It was what had divided our friendship over the last few years. And while I had lied about my current position—mainly because I thought it would be the last job—I couldn’t hide this from him anymore.

Beside Alistair, Mickey leaned forward on the couch, cocking his head from side to side as he squinted at the video of Quinton on his phone’s screen. "I mean, if you look sideways, I guess you could say he kind of walks like you, Ophelia."

I threw out my arm. "See! Exactly!"

Alistair dropped his hands in his lap and glared at Mickey.

"What?" Mickey shrugged, glancing at Alistair. "I'm just trying to help."

"And I appreciate that, Mickey," I said. "See, this is my theory. Quinton knew he'd gotten himself in over his head. He knew the mayor's people were after him. And he knew I'd be next. So he protected me by hacking into the footage of the masquerade night, pulling up the exact moment I went to Calamari office, and then, he essentially replaced my face and body with his. That way, he could make it look like it was him who had done the crime and not me."

Mickey and Alistair both had their arms crossed and were staring at me with the same perplexed disbelieving expression.

Finally, Mickey stood up. "Right, well, why don't I get us some water?"

Alistair's eyes closed. "Make it a whiskey, please."

Ignoring him, Mickey gave me a pathetic smile and disappeared into the kitchen.

I glared at Alistair. "You don't believe me?"

"What's there to believe?" Alistair asked. "That this guy, Quinton, who supposedly robbed the mayor of Boston, actually hired you to commit the crime, then not only faked his own death but also photoshopped a video of you to look like himself to cover your ass. Did I get that right?"

"Exactly!"

Alistair shook his head. "You told me you were done with this. You said no more hacking. And now this. Honestly, I don't know what's worse; if this is true or if you made this up. Because the second one means you've lost your mind, and well...the other means you went back to being a hacker, the one thing I told you not to do for your own safety."

"I'm not crazy," I snapped, grabbing my phone out of my pocket. "Quinton is alive. Look!" I showed him my bank account. Twenty minutes after I'd seen the video—and came to this potential conclusion about the video—I'd checked my account. "Fifty thousand dollars. In my account. Just like Quinton had said would happen when he was in the clear."

"Ophelia, what all this shows is that you got paid for committing some crime. He easily could have sent that before he died. And even if he didn't, even if he's still alive, so fucking what? That doesn't mean shit. If everything you're saying is true, then congratulations, you escaped another fucked-up situation. And ignored my advice in the process."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, because you lying to me about Lorenzo and sending me an article about his ex-girlfriend from high school is you warning me."

Shaking his head, Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't do this anymore, Ophelia. Seriously, why are you here?"

"Because this isn't over yet."