“Mr. Martin, a bit of decorum, shall we?” Blue asked.

“Come on girl, we’re old friends now,” Quincy said, reaching down to gently pat her hand. “One believer to another, right?”

“He knows?” William asked, looking at Quincy. “You told him?”

“Of course she did. She knows who I am. She doesn’t know my taste in clothing or my actual pants size. She figured this is the size I would wear, which means a serious juice cleanse is in my future.”

“You decided to let him out?” Steven asked.

“More like he complained his way out.” Blue looked up to Quincy’s grin. “Miss Lily and I were having a nice talk when all we could hear was stomping and cursing upstairs. So I sent for him.”

“Against all of our better judgments,” Rudd said, from where he leaned against the pillar.

“Now wait a minute. Wait a damn minute,” Quincy said, walking towards Steven. “I know you! You’re Steven Richards.”

“Mr. Martin. Let’s give them a minute,” Rudd said. “You said you were hungry. I will happily stuff your mouth with anything to keep you from talking for five minutes.”

“No way. This is a gold mine right here. Everything I knew was real, is right here before my eyes. It was almost worth almost getting my butt blown off.”

“Let’s go.” Rudd took him by the arm. “Let them talk. I don’t agree with you knowing anything, but now that you do, I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.”

“Let it be known,” Quincy said, holding up a finger as Rudd led him to the door, “I spent half my fortune on trying to unravel the truth. I know my phone got either blown up or tossed somewhere, but give me a way to call and I’ll have a jet here within the hour. I can get us somewhere truly safe—”

Rudd closed the doors behind them.

“I know you disagree, Steven, I can tell by the look in your eyes,” Blue said. “But you know why he’s been on our radar all these years.”

“And there are reasons why the Corcillium ultimately never reached out to him,” Steven responded. “Enthusiasm is one thing. But he’s a glorified cell phone salesman. Who just happens to have made millions on a nifty hologram idea with a horrible name. But he’s in deep now. Even he doesn’t realize how deep. There’s no turning back for him. For any of us.”

“William, will you help me into my wheelchair? I need to move,” Blue said, reaching up with her hands.

He walked over, seeing the delight in her eyes. Nanna’s mother. My God.

She seemed as light as the pages he’d just flipped through, as fragile as bone china. There was a fierce grip to her, though, as he lifted her from the rattan to the wheelchair.

“You’re so handsome. Even more so than you are in all those pictures in the magazines,” she said, placing her hand on his bearded cheek as she settled into the chair. “You resemble your grandparents so much.”