“He’s … he’s my boss.”

“Yes, but you’re under his thumb.”

“Of course! I—”

“Stop. There are ways, Julie. If you stop being afraid. If you’re brave enough to free the strength inside you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s why you went back inside.” Sydny leaned forward suddenly, and her lips brushed Julie’s. The kiss, soft and knowing, lasted only an instant, but Julie’s lips tingled for hours after. She stood, transfixed, the night seemingly on fire. With Sydny watching her, a gentle smile curving her lips, her heart expanded. It was as if she finally recognized the true nature of the person living inside her own skin.

12

At three a.m. precisely, Paulus Lindstrom contacted Valerie in the agreed upon manner. That is, he used a burner phone she had given him, punching in a specific number. He made the call out in the street. He did not much care for being on the streets at three in the morning, not because he was afraid of who might leap out of the shadows, but because it reminded him of his hellish teenage years.

In those days, his parents had no clue as to his condition. Unable to sleep, he would roam the streets at night, looking for what he could not say. But one cold, snowy winter’s night as he stood huddled on a street corner unable to decide which way to turn, a limousine pulled up, one smoked glass window rolled down. Thinking the person inside was going to ask for directions, he stepped off the curb and bent to the window. A man handed him a five-dollar bill and said, “Go get yourself something hot to eat.” He had stood in the gutter, paralyzed by a shocked humiliation as the window closed and the limo drove off.

“Yes?” Valerie said in his ear, startling him.

“Something’s happened.”

“I assume it’s significant.” Her voice was still sloughing off the fur of sleep.

“I was made uncomfortable by it.” Lindstrom was still thinking of that five-dollar bill and all it implied. He’d thrown it in a trash can as he’d hurried home through the thickening snow, tears overspilling his eyes.

“Then you’d better tell me.” But before he had a chance to utter another word, she said, “Are you walking? Keep walking. And tell me immediately if you see anyone around.”

Lindstrom craned his neck. He imagined snowflakes caking his eyelashes. “There’s no one.”

“Okay, now step into a doorway and don’t move. Do you see a vehicle slowing or stopping?”

“No,” Lindstrom said. “Listen, I’m getting more and more uncomfortable.”

Valerie hesitated for a moment. “Do you want to come over here?”

“I do,” Lindstrom said in a very small voice.

“Okay. Give me your location.” When he did, she said. “Just stay there. I’ll have a car to you in—hold on … fifteen minutes. It would be sooner, but we need to make sure the area is sanitized before we come near you.”

“Sanitized?”

“Swept and, if need be, cleaned of watchers,” Valerie said with the patience of Job.