The Flight of the Silvers (Silvers #1)(119)

“Then tell me what I can say right now.”

“To do what?”

“To end this well.”

She looked at him with pained surprise, then flicked a hand in surrender. “You want out? Fine. Abracadabra. We’re friends again. Frankly, I think this was a problem that needed a wrench, not a chainsaw. But I guess you have your own way of doing things.”

“I’m trying to avoid a bad situation for everyone,” he insisted. “The six of us are going to have to rely on each other, probably for the rest of our—”

She threw her book to the floor. “Look, you wanted an exit, you got one. But don’t pretend you’re leaving for noble reasons. You got scared. You bolted at the first sign of trouble. You don’t get to wear that as a feather in your cap!”

Her eyes began to moisten. Her entire face quivered. She was no longer Hannah in Her Element. She wasn’t even the rickety Hannah that Theo had known before. She was falling apart.

“We could have had weeks, you *. We could have healed each other.”

“That wouldn’t have happened.”

“Oh, just get the hell out of here already. You’re such a coward, I can’t even look at you.”

“Hannah . . .”

The tears flowed freely down her face. “Theo, I swear to God you have three seconds to get out of this room before you see the real and awful me.”

He took her at her word and left. He sat motionless on the living room sofa for over an hour before stretching out for sleep.

At 1 A.M., Hannah emerged with a folded blanket and pillow, then dropped them on his stomach. Theo saw his phone in her hand. A tiny bulb flashed green in announcement of new text messages.

“Don’t read that. It’s—”

“I know who it is.”

She stepped outside to the balcony, hurled the phone over the railing, and then raised her middle fingers high in the night. It was her own message to Evan Rander, in whatever patio he’d chosen as his spying perch.

Theo watched her cautiously as she marched back through the living room.

“Give me one night to hate you,” she said.

“Okay.”

He wrapped himself in the blanket, steeling himself for the return of bad dreams. On the plus side, he knew he had only one night to spend on the sofa. Their feel-good week would finally end in the morning. At long last, the Silvers were checking out.

—

As the sun rose on Saturday, September 18, a tiny breach of time opened above Mia and spat an urgent message. The note rose and fell with her sleeping breaths for ninety-five minutes, until a waking turn rolled it into a blanket crevasse. She yawned her way to the bathroom, unaware.

Hannah woke up five minutes later, dark eyed and unrested. She shook Theo awake in the living room and pulled him back to bed. She didn’t want the others to see him sleeping on the couch like a punished husband. The less they knew about the whole debacle, the better.

While Hannah showered, Theo lay awake on the mattress, lamenting the loss of access to her ravishing body and suffering a vague new sense of dread. There was a bad wind blowing from the future, and it was centered around the sisters. Theo relaxed when he spotted Amanda in the living room, as cheery as he’d ever seen her. A week of rest and charity had done wonders for the widow’s state of mind.

By ten o’clock, everyone was dressed, packed, and waiting at the balcony table. In light of the beautiful morning weather, Amanda insisted on having a final patio brunch. Zack led a sardonic round of applause when she wheeled in the food cart. Room service had taken over an hour to deliver their order.

“They’re having some kind of bellhop crisis,” Amanda explained. “A hotel manager had to bring this. He gave us free mimosas as an apology.”

David leered at the six flute glasses. “That’s strange. He didn’t ask to see your wet card?”

Zack scowled in mock outrage. “Can we go one morning without your crude euphemisms?”

The boy ignored him. “They have laws against serving alcohol to people without proper ID. The manager’s putting the hotel at serious risk.”

Amanda shrugged. “Well, it was a young guy. He’s probably new. And who cares? Is anyone here planning on reporting them?”

“I am.”

“Shut up,” she said to Zack. “You’re having a drink with me. Who else wants?”

Amanda turned sheepish when she saw Theo’s heavy expression. “There’s probably an ounce of champagne in these things. Not even enough for a buzz.”

“It’s okay. I’ll pass.”

Amanda wasn’t surprised when the teenagers abstained, but Hannah’s refusal threw her. “Are you sure? You used to love these.”

“I said I don’t want any.”

Raising her palms in surrender, Amanda backed away. Soon everyone took turns at the kitchen juve, reversing their food to a piping-hot state. Amanda passed Zack a glass and a whisper.

“There are at least three of us here in bad moods. Please save me before I become the fourth.”

“I can do that.”

The two of them quickly dominated the meal with their boisterous celebration, trading silly quips and toasts between each sip of mimosa.

“To happy fugitives,” said Amanda.

“To well-rested fugitives,” said Zack.