"Put it all together," I said. "Take some vacation. We'll set up a meeting. I think you need to meet Eve."

"Okay. It might be tough for me to sneak all this out. I think you should do it."

She never took her eyes off me.

"Yeah, good point. You'd be in a world of s.h.i.t if you got caught walking out of here with this stuff." So would I, but that was beside the point. Or maybe it was the point.

Victor, you a.s.shole, you picked this day to be chivalrous.

I put the files in my attache. It was actually my father's, a hand me down from his father, old and supple and soft. I used to play with it when I was a kid, and beg my father to let me have it. Then when it was mine, I didn't want it anymore. I didn't want any of this. I just wanted to work on cars.

Get rid of Martin and I could.

I left first, as we usually did. No one searched me, of course, as I left.

Graduation was the following week. I would walk, get my diploma, and step onto the football field one of the one hundred richest men in the world. All my dreams were coming true. I never dreamed about the money. Honestly, I wasn't even sure what to do with it. Materially, I already had everything I could possibly want or need, and soon Eve would, too, and our kids. I wanted kids with her, I was one hundred and ten percent sure, and she was coming around. She would finish her degree. We'd live off campus for her last year. I was already looking at houses. I was going to surprise her with it. We both liked the town, and I was thinking maybe we'd move there. I could shutter the house, turn it into a museum, maybe we could winter there or something. It was a long drive back. I had a lot of time, a lot of dreaming to do.

Technically, we could have lived in the dorm until my graduation, but I packed all of mine and Eve's s.h.i.t in the back of the car, filling up the trunk and seat both, and we drove home. The only thing missing was a just married sign and some cans to rattle behind us as we drove. I was giddy with excitement. I'd already talked to the kitchen staff. We were going to eat on the terrace, have a big fancy meal and then I'd pop the question at sunset, drop to one knee before her and wait for her to answer. The idea made my palms sweat. When I was shopping for the ring I was sure she'd say yes. Now that she was sitting next to me, sleeping with head propped on my shoulder as I drove the back way up the country roads, I wasn't so sure. It was a silly kind of worry, like checking the stove three times before leaving the house, or running around looking for your keys when they're in your hand.

Reminds me of something my Dad told me once. Love is giving someone the power to hurt you terribly, and hoping they don't.

I didn't wake her until we were almost home. I nudged her with my arm and she stirred, yawned, and stretched, folding her arms behind her head and cracking her back.

"Hey," I said. "We're back."

She looked a little sad, but then she always did.

"I'm going to talk to my mother," I said.

She looked at me sharply, drawing in a quick breath.

"Eve, in a week it won't matter what anybody says. We can do what we want."

She nodded. "What about... I mean, legally. I never looked it up. I was afraid."

"What, because our parents are married? It means nothing legally, Eve. I talked to a company lawyer about it. People might think it's weird or tacky, but f.u.c.k them. I do what I want."

She always flinched when I used a curse word casually like that.

"My father..."

"Can go f.u.c.k himself. We're adults, Eve, and there's nothing he can do. If he tries, my lawyers will blot out the sun."

Besides, there would be no need to worry about him, soon. Maybe she'd want to visit him in prison.

Eve settled into her seat as I pulled around to the garage. I wanted to carry my own stuff but Mom insisted the servants do it. I never liked having servants. It felt so silly, to have people paid to carry my c.r.a.p. Eve felt the same way, but we went along with it.

Mom looked healthier than she had for a while. She picked up a bad cough over the winter and lingered for months, all through the rest of the school year. She'd been pale and drawn, but looked bright and healthy today. She gave me a big hug, then gave one to Eve, squeezing the life out of her.

"My father?" said Eve.

"Away on business," she sighed. "He's been so distant lately, I..." she looked at Eve. "Nevermind about that. Come in. I haven't seen either of you since Easter."

It took an hour of talking to pry her away from Eve. We went to Dad's old study. I thought it was the best place.

When she hacked and coughed into her hand, it worried me. She was carrying around a hanky to cough into.

"Hey," I said. "Have you been to the doctor about that?"

"It's nothing. So what's the big secret?"

I leaned back on his desk and fiddled with his magnifying gla.s.s. "Eve and I have, um," I started. How do I put this?

"You're in a relationship, Vic. I'm not blind. Did you really think anyone bought your excuses to get away from here with her? I'm not that slow."

She smiled warmly at me.

"Yeah. I"m going to ask her to marry me. Tonight."

"Good. I hope she says yes. She loves you, you know."

I thought I was going to fall through the floor. "Yeah. Thanks, Mom."

"Of course. Martin isn't going to like this."

My face must have hardened, because she raised her hand.

"You know, you were right. Marrying him was a mistake."

My hands tightened around the edge of the desk and the wood dug into my palms. "Why? Did he-"

"Hit me? No. He just grew less and less interested in me as the years went on. It's been, what, three years now? The closer we came to the day the trust pa.s.sed to you, the less interested in me he became."

Another coughed wracked her tiny body, and I felt my stomach sink. Maybe it was just the lighting in the office, but Mom looked old. She'd never looked old. Not like that. She swept at her lips with the hanky and tucked it into her pocket, and folded her arms.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. What should I do? I've been thinking about a separation."

"There's stuff I haven't told you about him. About the way he raised his daughter."

"I knew there was something strange about it," she sighed. "The homeschooling was... odd. It almost sounds like he had her locked up, isolated from the outside world, doesn't it? I thought he was just overprotective. He can be very intense."

"He used to hit her. Badly. He left scars, Mom."

Startled, she blinked. "He never raised a hand against me. Why haven't you said this before?"

I wasn't sure I could be rid of him before.

"I talked to him once, made sure it wouldn't be a problem with you, or with Eve anymore. Did he tell you he came to our school the first year she was there and tried to kidnap her? He was going to force her to transfer because I transferred there to join her."

Another sigh. It turned into a fit of coughing again.

I could have sworn I saw a spot of red on the handkerchief.

"It's nothing," she said, before I could ask. "Just a d.a.m.ned cough, it'll go away."

It worried me, but lots of things worried me. I had the ring in my pocket. I was giddy with excitement, more alive than I'd felt in years. I never thought I could possibly be this happy. Mom hugged me.

"I hope everything goes as you have planned. Go get yourself cleaned up and get ready. You've had a long drive. I'll keep Eve busy until it's time for you to eat."

Gleefully, I rushed to my room and cleaned myself up. I'd arranged to eat at dusk, giving me plenty of time to relax. The sun would set after eight tonight. Eve, I knew, was getting settle in herself, and would want some time alone.

Sleep came easier than I thought, but it was fitful and harsh and I spent the whole time tossing and turning, waking every hour or so to check the clock. When it was finally time, I dressed. Nothing fancy, just clothes. Eve was already outside. Somebody lit a pair of taper candles on the table on the terrace, the one where Mom and Martin ate lunch with Eve the day I first set eyes on her. Dinner was nothing fancy, either. Grilled chicken and rice. We ate quietly, enjoying each other's company and the warm air. The breeze behind the house always smelled like the woods, deep and earthy and ancient, but when it picked up just the right way I could smell the lilacs. Eve. When she finished her portion her silverware clinked softly on her plate.

"Desert?" I said.

"Yeah."

"I have something to ask you first."

Here we go.

I got up and walked to her side, and dropped to one knee. A grin spread on her face and that was all the answer I needed. I took the ring in its little box from my pocket.

Then the spotlight hit me, blinded me, and Eve screamed.

The world went crazy. It sounded like thunder, whup whup whup, but it was the blade of a helicopter. The blasting wind blew out the candles, and knocked them over, and sent napkins flying from the table. I fell back on my a.s.s, covering my eyes as Eve kept screaming, covering hers with both arms. All of a sudden men in black were everywhere, and they had guns. I started to get up but there was a knee in my back and all of a sudden two hundred plus pounds was pushing down into the middle of my spine and someone was yanking my wrists back. I thought they were going to break my arms. Mom came running out of the house, screaming at them. One of the black-clad men grabbed her arm and she went down hard on the terrace, and I saw blood on her lips and bellowed in fury, trying to buck loose, almost tearing my own shoulders out of joint as they cuffed me.

It was only then that someone barked, "Federal Bureau of Investigation!"

I went still.

What? What the absolute f.u.c.k?

There was a gun pressed to the back of my head.

"Stop moving."

I looked around. Jesus, there had to be fifty of them on the lawn. Where did they all come from?

Hysterical, I looked around. I dropped the d.a.m.n ring. It was sitting on the stone floor of the terrace.

Eve picked it up, and opened, and looked at me.

"I don't know what this is about," I shouted, "I'll take care of it. Go inside with Mom."

"Shut up," the FBI man barked.

They pulled me up by the arms, painfully. They dragged me through the house, where they were ransacking everything. There was a van waiting out front, one of a dozen black vehicles. They dragged me inside and sat between two guys with rifles dressed up like ninjas, like I was going to do something terrible if they didn't watch me every second. It was only then that a man in a suit stepped into the van and the doors slapped closed behind him. He was the stereotypical G-man, right down to the mirrored aviators and the chewing gum. He chewed loudly, stared me down. I stared right back. I didn't know what this was about, but whatever it was I was innocent, I'd done nothing wrong and I was absolutely certain I could prove it.

"Victor Amsel," he said, "You have the right to remain silent."

He ran through all the rights. You know how it goes.

I chose to exercise my right to remain silent, but not before I snarled, "f.u.c.k you, a.s.shole."

That seemed to amuse him. He sat back.

"You're a big fish," he said, staring me down. "Make my career."

I said nothing. I knew at least that much. I wasn't going to talk my way out of this, and the more I talked the more I'd mouth off and give them something to use against me. I'd find out what I was charged with later. Mom would be calling the lawyers now. We had people on retainer. I'd be out by morning.

I kept telling myself, I'd be out by morning.

As they booked me, I'd be out by morning.

As they fingerprinted me, I'd be out by morning.

As they took mug shots, I'd be out by morning.

As they took my clothes and made me put on an orange jumpsuit, I'd be out by morning.

As they locked me in a solitary holding cell on the four floor of the grim block of a jail house, I'd be out by morning.

By early afternoon the next day, I stopped lying to myself. I waited for the visit, for Eve and Mom to show up and tell me it was going to be alright, this was all a huge mistake, this would be taken care of and I'd take my graduation walk and get my birthright and marry the girl of my dreams. This was all just a temporary pit stop on the road to happily ever after.

Neither Mom, nor Eve, came to see me.

A federal prosecutor did.

They took me to an interrogation room. Later I learned they called it the fish tank. It was a square, ugly room of unadorned concrete with a steel table. In the middle was a ring, bolted to the metal. They put a pair of those long shackles on my wrists with the chain running through the loop on the table, so I couldn't get away.

I named him Junior G-Man in my head.

"Ronald Powers," he introduced himself.

"Go f.u.c.k yourself," I replied, cheerily.

"That's not a very good way to start our conversation."

"You're not here to help me. I'm not going to get out of this by talking to you. I have nothing to say."

He sat down and made a cutting motion across his neck with his hand. I flinched, until I realized he was signaling someone on the other side of the bulletproof gla.s.s.

It meant stop recording.

That made me a little nervous.