But the thought of her living her life without him, moving on with someone else, making a home there by the lake filled him with grief. For himself. For the life he could have with her.
He flipped through the pages of the file again, the pictures of his classmates filling one of the pages. It was a newspaper write-up about the Long Acre tragedy. Victims’ yearbook photos in one column. Survivors’ names in the other.
Survivors:
Arias, Olivia
Breslin, Kincaid
Dorsey, Finn
Right there nearly next to each other on the page. Finn and Liv. They were survivors. They were the ones who got away, only to be chased for years after. By the memories. By the anger. By the fear. By the label the killers had given them. His entire life, he’d wanted revenge, wanted to fight back. Wanted to win.
He still wanted that.
Now was his chance.
Billings was talking again, but Finn wasn’t listening. His blood was pounding too loudly in his ears, like the panic attacks he used to have. But this wasn’t panic. This was something different. This was…clarity.
He reached below the seat, searching for his phone. “I need to make a phone call.”
Billings grunted. “They frown on that when we’re rolling down the runway.”
“Let them fucking frown.” Finn found his phone in the outside pocket and powered it on.
The flight attendant was heading down the aisle, checking each row, his smile polite but his eyes hawkish. Finn pressed the power button, willing the damn thing to boot up quickly.
“Come on, come on,” he cajoled.
The attendant paused at a row, asked a guy to put up his tray table.
The screen lit, and the phone searched for a signal. The plane rolled toward the runway. Finn hit a button and put the phone to his ear.
“Sir.” The flight attendant’s voice was sharp. “I need you turn off your phone or put it in airplane mode now.”
“I just need to make a quick call. This is government business—”
“I’m sorry, sir. No calls allowed.” The guy’s tone had taken on an authoritative edge, which had made other passengers turn their way.
“I have to—”
Billings took the phone from Finn and quickly hit the button for airplane mode. “Sorry. We’re good.”
The attendant frowned and gave Finn a don’t-try-me look before walking off.
“What the hell was that for?” Finn demanded.
Billings handed the phone back. “Don’t draw attention to yourself. Are you that out of practice?”
Frustration welled in Finn, and he hit the unlock button on his phone again. But before he could attempt to make a call, a notification appeared on his screen. He hit the box and his eyes scanned over the message.
“Sir, I’m not going to ask you again…”
But he waved off the flight attendant.
There was a selfie of Liv at the Long Acre memorial. Her eyes damp but clear. Her smile small but genuine. And there was a message.
Go get them for all of us, Batman, and take care of yourself. The world is better with you in it. *My* world is better with you in it.