Page 112 of Misery
"Or I could play it differently. Come in angry. Demanding answers. Either way, it's a distraction."
"So as far as he knows, you're still his devoted girlfriend."
She catches on quickly. "I go in first. Distract him. You come in while he's focused on me."
"It's dangerous," Magnus warns. "He's unstable. If he suspects?—"
"He won't. I'm very good at playing devoted." The bitterness in her voice could etch glass. "Months of practice, remember?"
My phone buzzes.
Text from unknown number:
Tick tock, brother. Every minute you waste strategizing is another minute Ivar bleeds. Did you know he calls for Elfe in his sleep? So touching. So futile.
I show it to Runes.
His face darkens.
"We go now," he decides. "Eleyna, you're sure about this?"
"I've never been more sure of anything."
"Then let's move."
The ride to the meat packing plant feels both endless and too quick.
Eleyna follows in her car—a white BMW that looks absurd among our bikes but fits her cover.
The girlfriend coming to check on her man.
To bring him dinner maybe.
To play the role she's been playing.
The plant looms in the distance, all rust and broken windows.
Perfect for Thiago. Dramatic. Isolated. Controllable.
We stop half a mile out, hidden behind an abandoned gas station.
Eleyna pulls up beside us.
"Remember," I tell her, "he's smart. Paranoid. If anything feels off?—"
"I know. I get out." She checks her reflection in the mirror, fixes her makeup to hide the worst of the tear tracks. "How do I look?"
"Like a woman in love."
"Then I'm ready." She pauses. "When this is over, what happens to the girl? Elfe?"
"She goes on with her life. Free from him."
"Lucky her." There's no malice in it, just sadness. "Some of us don't get to be free."
She drives toward the plant.
We follow at a distance, keeping to shadows.
