“Oh yeah? With what?”
I smile, giving into sleep’s sweet invitation. “I want to help women like me. I’m going to law school. I’m going to be a lawyer.”
Epilogue
After two months living in a prison in the middle of nowhere, followed by a week holed up in an apartment to avoid the media and paparazzi, the speed and noise of the city are overwhelming. Still, at least in Philadelphia no one’s looking for me, and I can blend into the crowd.
I press the apartment building’s buzzer and wait.
The women from Walker have been scattered and housed in secure locations, giving them time to try and reclaim some semblance of normality. Some have elected to stay together, wanting someone with them who they know.
“Yes, who is it?”
“Lydia… it’s me.”
Our names have been kept secret, though some have opted to speak publicly, including Jacqueline and Isabel. Though her wound required surgery, Jacqueline is going to pull through. But she wanted to be the first to tell the world what Prescott did to her, addressing the media from her hospital room.
“Quinn?”
“Yeah.”
A high-pitched scream plays through the intercom before shutting off. I don’t hear the door unlock, but after a moment I see Lydia hurtling through the hall.
“Oh my god,” she says when she sees me, tears already wetting her cheeks.
I get it — the first time I looked in a mirror at Reed’s apartment, I was startled. The constant work and poor nutrition caused me to lose some weight, and being indoors almost all the time paled my skin to ghostly white. I’ve seen a dietitian and a nutritionist — and I’ll spend as much time as I can outdoors before fall turns to winter.
“Hey, Lydia,” I say. “It’s good to see you.”
She practically launches herself at me, wrapping her arms around me in a hug. Trembling and crying, Lydia touches my hair, my back, as if unsure this is real.
“I knew you were one of them,” she says, her voice wavering as her breathing hitches. “When I heard the news…”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t call you sooner,” I say. “It’s been a long week.”
“Please! I’m just so glad you’re okay. I’ve been so afraid for you…”
I wouldn’t say anything, but it shows: her face looks drawn from constant worry. She looks like she’s lost weight — too much. She doesn’t eat when she’s apprehensive, and then hunger just exacerbates her worrying. The last two months must have been no picnic for her either.
“I’ll be okay, Lydia. Are you hungry? You want to get lunch?”
Her eyes light up and she wipes away her last tears. “I’d love to! Any preference?”
“Just somewhere quiet.”
—
Reed takes the news better than I thought he would.
“If that’s what you want, I’ll respect that,” he says, taking a seat on the hotel bed. He’s thrown a towel over his shoulder, his hair still dripping from the shower. The sight of his chest makes me smile as much as his response.
“Really? You’re not upset?”
He shrugs, then rises and pulls me into an embrace. His body feels impossibly hard — he’s had a lot of spare time to work out since we brought down Walker. “I am, a little. Since Marla got me the immunity deal, I got used to the idea of us living together. I was excited about it, but if you want to move in with Lydia, I won’t stop you.”
I kiss him, then let him pull me down with him onto the bed. Lying next to him, I lean my head against his shoulder. “It won’t be forever. We said we were going to be roommates in Philly, and I want to pick up my life where it left off. I’ll still see you all the time.”
“Yeah, you will,” he says, turning over to kiss my forehead.