—Your first day, Dad. I told you a million times, I’m only doing this until I find something else.
—Fine. But you’ll love it so much, you’ll beg me not to hire someone.
—In your dreams. Some of us have grown up, you know. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life playing with dolls.
—Dolls! Do you know what you’re holding in your hand right now? That’s a vintage Leia in her Hoth outfit from something called The Vintage Collection. It’s a vintage remake of a vintage figure. Meta vintage. There are lessons about the universe, life constantly repeating itself, buried inside that thing. It’s 3.75 inches of wisdom, and before you roll your eyes at me, you should know I’ve seen you playing with the Walking Dead figures when you thought I wasn’t watching. I was watching, and I saw you playing with dolls, like you said.
—That’s different! It’s Daryl! I like Daryl.
—You didn’t think the little crossbow could fire, did you?
—No. That is pretty cool.
—There’s hope for you, Eva. There is hope.
—I wouldn’t count on it. I’ve been thinking— —Uh-oh …
—Maybe I could be a pilot.
—You mean join the army?
—What’s wrong with that?
—Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. I’d miss you, that’s all. They’d be lucky to have you.
—What do you think Kara would say?
—She’d say … She’d say that you should do whatever makes you happy. Go for it. Never give up. She’d be proud of you, you know.
—And you?
—Am I proud of you? Hell yeah! I was proud the minute I found out you existed.
—Would you be proud of me if I were in the army?
—Eva, it’s you I’m proud of, not your job or the uniform you wear. I’d be proud of you no matter what you do. I’d be real proud of you if you worked at the toy store with your dad.
—I don’t think it’s me, Dad. I don’t think I’d be happy being cooped up all day.
—With toys.
—Even with toys. It’s … weird … We’ve been through so much, I—I’m just not sure I can do normal anymore. I go to the park, and I sit on a bench, and it’s beautiful, and calm. So calm. I watch people having a picnic with their kids and it’s cool, but all I’m thinking is how much fun we’d have wrecking that park with Themis. There are days I wake up, and I hate myself for wishing something bad would happen. I wish we’d get her back and I could swing that giant sword again. Am I a horrible person for thinking that?
—Eva, I’ve had that thought so many times. I know the feeling. Believe me. It took me ten years to get over it and stop wishing for the apocalypse. You’re the one who got me over it, you know. Having you around, it just … I spent all my life trying to figure out who I was and what I wanted. Then you showed up, this brash little thing that wouldn’t listen to anyone.
—Hey!
—Then I realized that was it. That was the thing that mattered to me. I didn’t care what I did or what happened to me anymore. You’re the one thing that matters now.
— …
—Eva, there’s something I have to tell you.
—What is it?
—When Kara died, she—What? Are you OK?
—I can still see it, Dad. Kara falling backwards into that white cloud. It’s … weird. There are things I can barely remember. It feels like a lifetime ago, but— —Some of it feels like it happened this morning … I don’t know if you remember, but the army went back to the UN for her body a few days after the attack.
—You wanted us to scatter her ashes. We never did.
—In a helicopter, right! We can still do that. They found her ashes in a locker room along with all our stuff. Apparently, they cataloged our personal effects after we disappeared and put everything in boxes. It all arrived this morning. Here.
—My—Kara’s gopher!
—Oh, it’s yours! I forgot how banged up that thing was.
—Thank you!
—There’s something else. She had two envelopes on her when she died. One was a letter for me.
—What’d she say?
—She … You know what? I won’t tell you. It’s between me and her. But it’s what convinced me to let you try Themis. The second envelope was for you.
—What’s in it?
—I don’t know.
—You haven’t read it?
—No, I thought it was … It’s between you and her. She told me to give it to you when the time came.
—What does that mean?
—She said I’d know.
—Did you?
—Come to think of it, I did. It was your fourteenth or fifteenth birthday. You were arguing with Rose. I looked at you, and it hit me. Right there and then. Boom! You weren’t my little girl anymore. You were this … amazing young woman I barely knew. It was scary, and touching. You were so … You looked like you could take on the world. That day, I thought about the letter, only it was inside my locker in New York, millions of miles away, so …
— …
—What is it, Eva?
—I don’t know. I’m afraid to open it.
—Why?
—I don’t know! I just am!
—Well, she’d never even met you when she wrote it, so I don’t think she’d have had anything bad to say to you.
—You’re an idiot, Dad. When Kara died, I’d only known her for two days. I didn’t know her, really. But I have this image of her, this person I’ve constructed in my head. I’ve added … details to that person over the years, whenever you talk about her, things like that, but deep down, that’s still who she is to me. That image I put together at ten years old over a couple days. That’s Kara to me. That’s my mother. I’m afraid whatever’s in that letter won’t match. I’m afraid I’ll realize I was wrong the whole time, that I didn’t know her at all. I’m afraid I’ll lose her all over again.
—Only one way to find out. I don’t think you’ll lose her, Eva. Your mother was many things, but mysterious isn’t one of them. She was the most honest, transparent person I’ve ever met, except for you. What you saw is what you got. I’d say that image of yours can’t be that far off. And you know I’m here, right? If you ever want to talk about Kara. You know her more than you think, trust me on that, but there are plenty of stories about your mom I’d love to share with you. If you want.
—Yeah. It looks like we’re going to have plenty of time to talk anyway.
—Why do you say that?
—We’ve been open for four hours, and we haven’t had a single customer.
—We haven’t … I like that.
—Yokits …
FILE NO. 1613
LETTER FROM CAPTAIN KARA RESNIK, EDC, TO EVA REYES
Recovered on her body at EDC Headquarters, New York, New York
Hi, Eva!
I told Vincent to give you this “when you were ready,” so I don’t know if you’re ten or thirty. I hope I’ve been gone at least a little while. I’d like for this to be a good moment, I don’t want it to be sad. Yes, I’m gone if you’re reading this letter, but I was very much alive when I wrote it. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alive. I found you.
I’m in Cuba. The sun is about to set. It’s been insanely hot and muggy all day, but a nice breeze just picked up a minute ago. It feels … I don’t really know what I’m feeling. I’m scared, for you and for me. I’m also excited, full of hope. It’s an odd mix of good and bad, the calm before the storm. I’m looking at you right now. That’s a lie. I’m looking at the window where they’re keeping you. But I know you’re in there. I saw you today with them. You were so tiny next to those men. You must have been terrified, but there was such resilience, such defiance in your eyes. I know that look.