Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
TRISTAN
As pissed as I was that she was on a dating app, even if not real, it’s playing out well.
For the past few days, we have been exchanging messages.
It’s nice getting to talk to each other without any underlying tension.
It’s more relaxed. We go back and forth with questions, and I’m learning things I never knew before.
Lily: What’s the worst thing you did as a kid?
I type, delete, and type again. My confidence in something has never been lower than when I’m sending her a message. I can write code, and hell, I’ve even had to write to the president before; I didn’t debate my words as much as I do over these texts to her.
The cursor blinks. Behind the chat window, her father’s reports and medical records fill the main screen. The autopsy photos, toxicology reports, and the official narrative of cardiac arrest—which I know is a lie.
His killer still plagues me. I have to solve it. Lily doesn’t know the truth about her father’s death, but I know she wants justice. I can give that to her; she just won’t ever know.
Me: Hacked my school’s grading system to change my GPA.
I was twelve at the time. I was more interested in seeing if I could do it than actually changing the GPA.
Lily: That’s adorable. My dad was pretty much a drill sergeant. I wasn’t getting away with shit.
That makes me smile. You couldn’t get away with shit with Victor. Not even his own daughter got a pass. I can tell she misses him; so do I. I never realized how much I leaned into that friendship, but once I lost him, I could see he was more of a father to me than my own ever was.
I pull up the medical files again. I keep going over everything, hoping I missed something and I’ll catch it now.
Then I’ll at least have a starting point.
The leads I’ve run down already have been dead ends.
I still have a few feelers out, and I can’t get into the file for one of his projects.
I’m still working on cracking that. It’s proving harder than I thought it would be.
I might have to make a call and cash in a favor.
I’m about to minimize his medical records when something catches my eye. It’s a physical from two decades ago. I skipped over it before, but now I’m staring at his blood type: AB negative. It can’t be. It’s not possible.
“No,” I say, leaning back in my chair. I rub my eyes to make sure I’m seeing clearly. Yep, still AB negative. How have I never put it together? Honestly, I never needed to or had the thought. I’m so dumbstruck I just sit here for a few minutes.
When it comes to Lily, I know everything. At least the things I can get my hands on. That’s why I know without a doubt that Lily’s blood type is O positive.
That means she was his daughter because he said she was. I never questioned whether he was her biological dad. Why would I?
I may not know everything, but I do know that a person with AB blood type cannot produce offspring that would have type O. It’s impossible.
Which means Victor is not Lily’s biological father.
Lily: You still there?
I type without thinking. Sorry, it’s a work thing.
Lily: The mysterious consulting job. Is this like when people say they’re entrepreneurs but really they’re jobless?
I mean, she’s not wrong.
Me: Always giving me a hard time.
Lily: It builds character.
I have heard that phrase many times before.
Lily: That’s what my dad used to say.
Me: Sounds like a smart man.
Lily: The best.
We keep messaging, but it’s hard to focus on anything; my mind is still reeling.
Lily: What is your dad like?
Me: Smart and an asshole.
Lily: Sounds like a tough combo.
Me: He’s something alright. Yours?
Lily: He was a good man, the best. Pure girl-dad energy. He taught me how to change a tire, how to braid my hair, and how to kill a man forty-eight ways without leaving evidence behind.
I smile despite the files burning behind my eyes. That was Victor. Practical. Protective. Teaching her independence because he knew he couldn’t keep her safe forever. But I can; maybe that’s why he entrusted her with me. It’s a nice thought, but I’m sure it’s fucking wrong.
Me: I’m sorry you lost him. He sounds like he was a good one.
Lily: I miss him every day. Some mornings I wake up and forget he’s gone, you know? Then I remember, and it’s like losing him all over again. Remember that I’m alone.
My throat tightens.
Me: How long has it been?
Lily: Couple years. Heart attack, but I don’t know. The man was in such good shape. And he ate terribly, and by “terrible” I mean “healthy.” I suppose some things are inevitable.
Me: We can’t outrun everything. No matter how hard we try.
I pull up Lily’s medical records instead. Her tonsils were removed when she was thirteen, a routine pre-op. Blood type: O positive. I scroll back further. Childhood vaccinations, the broken arm at seven, and the allergy to blueberries presenting at four.
Every record lists her as Victor Swann’s daughter. Emergency contact, insurance, and birth certificate—his name is there, but the mother’s name is unknown. Biology doesn’t give a flying care about paperwork.
I search for her earliest medical file. The first hospital visit. Three months old, with a respiratory infection, treated at Walter Reed.
Blood type listed: O positive.
I sit back. Three months old. That’s the first solid record that I know of that isn’t fake, like the birth certificate.
I pull up Victor’s mission records from decades ago.
The Eastern European deployment, the classified operation.
The date is fitting pretty much on par because there aren’t any other missions close enough that would line up.
Most of the details are redacted, buried under layers of security I’ll have to get through.
I tab over to search the area where the operation had taken place to see if I can find any local news. I pause when I come to an article about a local family. All dead, the mom, the dad, and their new baby girl.
I pull the family name. It might not go anywhere, the house a cover for something else. What the “something else” is, is what I need to find out.
Lily: Sorry. Heavy for a weekday.
She has no fucking idea.
Lily: Let’s lighten it. I’m new to this dating app thing. How about you?
Me: You’re my first. Be gentle.
I tease, but it’s no lie. My whole life has been school and work. I tend to zero in on a project and lose track of everything else until I come up for air.
Lily: Lies, it’s my first time!
Me: It is, I swear it.
Me: The job keeps me busy.
Lily: The fake one? - She sends a devil emoji with it.
Me: That’s the one. Are you sure you’re not the one lying? You’re gorgeous, and the bangs.
I try out an emoji myself for the first time and put a fire one.
Lily: I trimmed them up today.
Me: Pic
I wait, and then she sends me one. I wasn’t sure she would. She shouldn’t; I could be a psycho. Okay, a psycho that wants her dead. I very much want her alive and under me.
Fuck, I miss her. I know she hated living with me, but I loved having her there. She was the only reason I ever wanted to go home. Lily made me feel grounded. Even when she was glaring through me, she brought life to our home, to me.
Me: Like I said, gorgeous.
Lily: You’re sweet. I should go. Teddy wants to go to town for dinner.
Me: The town with the bookstore?
Lily: You remembered.
I remember everything. The bookstore, the coffee shop, and the antique place she lingers at but never enters. I remember the security footage from every trip, the patterns, the gaps where someone watching might hide.
Me: I did.
Lily: Oh, right, the app puts you near people, right? So you could meet up.
Lily: Not that we’re meeting up.
Lily: We can… I just don’t want to assume.
Lily: I’m going to stop texting now. I’m starving to death, so don’t read into my text. I’m famished.
Me: I’d meet you any day.
Lily: Right, of course. I’m a total catch.
Me: That you are. Now eat before you pass out from the delirium, and then I won’t get any more texts.
Lily: On it. I’ll text you later.
Me: Look forward to it.
The chat goes quiet.
I turn back to the file, knowing I have to get to the bottom of this. It could be nothing, or it could be everything.