“It’s just me.”
Finally, I undid the lock and chain. “What do you want?” I asked.
Bear put a hand out, offering a hug if I wanted it—but I just stared, afraid to touch him. If I accepted his kindness, my rage was going to turn to agony instead, and I didn’t think I could survive that.
“I don’t need comforting.”
He shrugged gently but didn’t move. When I glanced up again, I saw that his eyes were wet and shimmering as well. The realization that everything might be over was hitting him like a wave, dragging him under. There was no way Francis, Eve, and I could ever be in the same room again—Bear couldn’t endure the pain it would cause to force us to remain, but he also couldn’t endure the loss if any of us left.
At least, that’s what I thought his tears were about.
“I can’t just forgive them for this, Bear.”
“I know,” he said helplessly.
“It’s over. I don’t ever want to go back.”
I said it in anger, without thinking, but as soon as I did, I realized I meant it. I wanted to be free of the map, free of the town. I didn’t ever want to go back.
But I did. Just one time.
I should have listened to myself.
Bear was on the verge of breaking down, grinding his big fists into his eyes, as if he could rub out his emotions the same way he could the tears. He went on so long, I grabbed his hands before he hurt himself.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he finally said.
I gritted my teeth. “What else did Francis do?”
But Bear shook his head. “Not Francis,” he whispered. “Me.”
The last words came out so softly, I could hardly hear them at all.
“I need your help.”
I was just so full of hate. I wanted to punish Francis and Eve, but they were already punishing themselves so much, drowning themselves in their shame. Francis already knew I would break up with him, and Eve already knew that the rest of the group would never trust her or let her stay, either—any cruel thing I said wouldn’t be enough. They could barely feel even the faintest heat of my rage from within the inferno of their guilt.
But I couldn’t let it go. I needed someone to pay, I realized. Even if it couldn’t be Francis. I needed to hurt someone the way I’d been hurt.
And Bear gave me the perfect opportunity.
XX
The light under the front awning of Classic’s building was out, and in the darkness, Nell had to find the keyhole mostly by touch. Her own keys were gone, having been in her tote bag, but she knew that Humphrey always kept a spare set buried in the flowerpot with yellow roses on the stoop.
Behind her, Swann, Francis, Ramona, and Eve waited nervously, all scanning the silent street.
She could still hardly believe that they’d actually made it all the way to Classic without being caught—or how they’d done it.
The police had stayed for hours, combing every inch of the NYPL, especially the Map Division. They’d walked the room a hundred times, stalking right by on the other side of the door that was only there to Nell and the rest, so close it made her jump every time, even though they could never get in. Sirens wailed endlessly from the front entrance.
When the commotion had finally died down enough that Francis thought they could make a break for it, they followed Ramona to the other door on the opposite side of their hidden room. She opened it a crack, and when the coast was clear, flung it open and hurried them out. Nell stumbled. The rush of the night breeze on her skin, the darkness of the late hour, and the glare of streetlights pressed in, startling her all over again.