“Corporate espionage, I thought, a James Bond kind of project that would make me a hero like your dad, that would make me exceptional to your mom. That would prove I was worthy of being known as her blood in public.” He spits on the ground and smears a soot-stained hand across his mouth. “It started off fine. I wasn’t born to be a spy. But we had more in common than I thought, and we became real friends. I defied Nítuchí and met Mitso in person. He had his share of issues, but he was fundamentally a good guy. I convinced him to wipe his store of the Hero Pharm data—it was too dangerous, I said. And I got to know him well enough that I knew he suffered from this horrible anxiety and these debilitating panic attacks, like you, Manon,” he says, jabbing at the space between us, and I judder back. “The kind that—per the documents I sorted for Nítuchí—could be treated by that miracle drug Hero Pharm was in the process of testing.” He stops, rolling to one side with a wince. “I begged Nítuchí to let me give the drug to Mitso, and he said no. I told your mom all about it, hoping she’d agree that he needed this trial, and she freaked out that I’d been doing this spying for Nítuchí behind her back. She refused to support me. I was furious. I called her a hypocrite, since she always said people should be helped at any cost. And I stole the drug from Nítuchí’s offices and gave it to Mitso. It was all too easy. I should have known better. Fuck,” he shouts, the sound reverberating in the charred-smelling air, and Tai and I flinch into each other. “Not too long after starting the med, Mitso had the heart attack. He’s half the person he was before. And I think Nítuchí planted me there for that very reason—so that I would be the one to offer Mitso the meds. I could never tell Mitso. Never. But I told Teddy. He didn’t believe me about Nítuchí. He just thought I was a lying, thieving kid trying to cover his tracks. So I had to tell your mom.” He rubs his filthy hands together, like he’s massaging out some old pain.

We stand there, in the smoke of the fire, speechless.

“Did you hurt her?” Tai asks at last, wiping the polluted sweat leaking into her eyes.

And his face curls into something monstrous, the firelight reflecting off his pupils. “Why do you assume I’m a monster?”

“Why didn’t you tell us this before?” I ask, before coughing uselessly into my swollen hand, throat so raw.