“It’s my pleasure. See you soon, Natasha,” says Linos, as Hérrakí fumbles and pulls out what looks like a smart card—used for the bus.

Linos chuckles at him, and we say our goodbyes. We’ve barely turned around when I overhear Linos say, “Hérrakí Nítuchí. What would your uncle say if he saw you pulling out a bus pass at Maltese?”

As my smile ices over on my face, I take Tai’s soft hand, and we run past the bar with its multicolored libations, past the field of glorious, twinkling basalt buildings, and into the refuge of the elevator.

“He’s … Nítuchí’s nephew,” I say, just as she says, “Fucking red snake Daria,” dropping my hand to tap into her own phone.

She blinks up at me. “Wait, what?”

“Linos called him Hérrakí Nítuchí,” I whisper, and the blood floods out of my sister’s cheeks.

“We don’t know for sure,” she says.

I don’t answer. I should’ve known better. I should’ve remembered how small this island is. I work to loosen the straps on my heels. They dug red riverbeds into my skin.

“Nons, you need to read this,” she whispers, tugging on my arm and showing me her phone’s screen. We read, hand in hand again, our pastel wigs askew, and when it’s finished, I stare into her eyes, two eerie echoes of our shared past.

It’s not what we thought: It’s not Lady.

“It’s the lumberjack,” we whisper in sync.

BOY

DARIA GRENDL REVEALS MIREILLE FOIX’S “NOXIM STALKER” IN EXPLOSIVE NEW 10TH ANNIVERSARY PIECE

MAY 25, 2019