Page 69 of Private Exhibit
“What do you want?” Andy snapped.
The nurse flinched. “I just wanted to let you know that the Masons will be here at ten tomorrow.”
“Who?”
“The Masons.” The nurse paused, eyeing him expectantly. “To claim their son's body in the morgue.”
Andy blinked dumbly. It took several seconds for him to realize whom she was talking about. “Oh.” The man Andy hadn'tbeen able to identify. The one Devon had tracked down, using those impressive skills of his.
Damn it. Andy was going to have to witness their grief. He was going to have to sit with them and try to console them while they dealt with the reality of their son never coming home.
He'd done it a hundred times, but this one suddenly felt harder.
Andy knew that if he didn't find a cure in time for Ashworth-Grahams, he was going to be doing that very thing with Devon's friends. Granted, it seemed like most of Devon's friends could see ghosts, so it wouldn't be a complete loss, but they would still grieve. The same had been true for Andy himself.
And would be true again, once Devon died. Andy would have to deal not only with Devon's friends' grief, but his own.
He gave the nurse a nod, then waited until she left the room.
Andy took a deep, bracing breath, and pulled himself up. He eyed the files spread out all over the room, knowing he still had all their contents practically memorized, but he couldn't trust in that. Andy had to be sure.
He gathered all the files, stacking them up on his desk.
Then he grabbed the first one and sat down to read.
Chapter 25
DEVON GAVE a start when he saw something flash on his screen.
He'd been sitting at the dining table all afternoon and evening, halfheartedly pretending to work on the latest job forGrim. Mostly, he'd just been staring at the screen, thinking of Andy. Thinking of all the people around him who were flourishing. Thinking of all the things he'd never get to do.
Devon shook his head and clicked on the flashing icon. It brought up the Gentleman Hackers chatroom, which he'd had minimized while he was working onGrim's hack.
A private chat window popped up.
Rogue: You alright?
Devon hesitated before he typed a response.
Voy(ag)eur: Yeah, fine. Waiting for my program to get through a firewall.
Rogue: You wanna talk about it?
Voy(ag)eur: Talk about what?
Rogue: Anything. Whatever's bothering you.
Devon sighed. “Not really,” he mumbled.
From behind the monitors, Devon heard Oliver quietly ask, “The sleepover or brunch?”
“Both,” Devon admitted with a wince.
“Did he hurt you?” Oliver asked, the words coming out low and tight, like he was speaking through clenched teeth.
“No!” Devon gasped. “No, nothing like that.” He paused, not wanting to rub in Oliver's face just how amazing most of the night had been. “It was perfect, right up until I had an attack.”
“Oh. Shit. I'm so sorry.”
