Until the Day I Die(74)

41

SHORIE

Thursday morning I wake up in Ben and Sabine’s guest room. Ten o’clock, to be more accurate, which means I was out for over fifteen hours. I feel hungover from all the sleep.

I check my email. There are thirty screenshots of Ms. X’s account, but everything looks routine. No abnormally large balances, no new private messages. Both Dele and Rhys have texted, asking me if I’m okay. I say I’m fine, I’ll fill them in later. Rhys answers right away.

Did you read the journal?

Yeah, I type. Looks like Dad saw the same error message that I did. It never showed up again, but it bugged him. He considered assigning it to me, even though he never did.

My phone buzzes with his reply.

Wow.

I tap out a reply. If I can get onto Jax’s servers, maybe I can figure out how they did it. Gonna try to find a computer here. Maybe Ben’s—or Mom’s over at our house. I think she left her laptop.

So I find a computer, but then what? Copy all the information onto a hard drive and take it to the police? Or do I go to the FBI? There is a field office downtown, I think. I just don’t know exactly how reporting a crime to the FBI works. My phone buzzes.

Badass.

I hesitate.

I’m talking about you. Your dad would be really proud of you.

And then he sends one more line.

I almost don’t want to ask . . .

I type, Ask.

No letter in the journal?

No, I answer. Only a few sentences, things he was thinking about writing to me. And some stuff about Global Cybergames. He might’ve been checking into it for me.

That was the part that didn’t sit right with me. But I wasn’t sure why.

I’m sorry, Shorie.

It’s okay, better than nothing. Also found a list of phone numbers in the back.

U gonna call them?

Not sure who they are or what to ask. Maybe should focus on getting into Jax’s servers first?

Sounds good. Anything else?

Some dirty poetry he wrote for my mom—so now I need to bleach my brain, haha.

I wait a second, then send an eyeroll emoji, followed by a vomit emoji.

The three dots pop up, and I immediately regret the emojis. I wait. And wait some more. Eventually his message appears.

They were lucky to find each other, to be so in love. Not everybody gets that.

I stare at the words and feel the urge to cry yet again. That’s the exact same thing that Ben said yesterday. I type one more line.

Can I ask you a question?

Sure.

If you’re not working for Ben or anybody else at Jax, why were you really following me the other day at school?

I wait, but no answer comes.

There’s a knock on my door. “Shorie? You up?”

I crack open the door. Sabine, looking like a teenager in a short yellow sundress and oversize jean jacket, stands in the hall. She’s got a beat-up leather messenger bag slung over one shoulder.

“I left some fruit and croissants, and there’s half a pot of coffee if you want. Ben’s already left for work. I’m about to head out myself. Are you going to be okay here?”

“I’m fine.” I smile at her. Thinking about Ben and Layton, what they’re doing to her, makes me feel nauseated. “I can take Tiger for a walk, if you want me to.”

“He’d love that. Thank you.” She studies me. “You okay?”

I nod. “I’m good. Totally good. Thanks for letting me crash.”

“I hate to leave you alone. You’ll call if you need anything?”

Ben’s desktop with the three screens should do just fine. And it doesn’t even matter if he notices that I’ve been messing around in the servers. It’ll be too late by then.

“I will,” I say.

She touches my arm. “We’ll do pasta for dinner. Maybe some veggies. Does that work?”

“Totally.”

I’ll make up some excuse to miss dinner and Uber over to the FBI office. I do wonder what actually happens when you show up in the lobby of the FBI with a flash drive of corporate fraud and embezzlement. Is what Ben is doing even called embezzlement? And do they take you at your word, that a crime happened, and let you speak to an agent? Or do they just take a message and send you on your way? The thought of it makes me nervous. I’m already jiggling my leg.

“Okay, bye.” Sabine leans in and kisses my cheek. She smells like herbal shampoo.

“Bye.”

After I hear the lock turn in the front door, I head to the kitchen and let Tiger in from the backyard. I eat while he sits beside my stool and stares at me.

“You already had your breakfast,” I tell him, but I give him a pinch of croissant. He gobbles it up and inches his butt closer to me. “Oh my God, you are such a dingo.” I give him a strawberry. “Does your daddy mind if I use his computer? Your stupid, asshole daddy?”

Tiger’s tail thumps.

I put the dishes in the dishwasher and go shower. I put on my same clothes, make the bed, and find Tiger’s leash. We walk a quick circuit of the neighborhood, and when we get back, he laps up some water from his bowl, jumps on the sofa, and immediately falls asleep in a block of sunlight.

When I open the door of Ben’s office, I’m greeted by the sight of an empty desk. All the stacks of papers are gone and so is the computer. Well, not the keyboard or the screens, just the tower. I search the room, throwing open the closet, banging open file drawers, even looking behind the door. My email dings. Another screenshot from Ms. X’s account. This one’s from her messages. From Yours. Ben, I know now.