“When did you find out I was Ellie? When did you know about my history with Dylan?”
He looked at me steadily. “The day I asked you to go to Hanoi,” he answered. “I’d been looking for someone in Dylan’s security detail that would talk. In Paris, two years ago, I’d just recruited Ivan Klimov when he was killed.” His gaze met mine.
“I killed him,” I revealed reluctantly. Keeping secrets was so ingrained in me that it took conscious effort to voice the words.
He nodded. “We suspected as much, once we found out who you were. After Klimov, I didn’t have much success, until Daniel Schneider. He sent us photos, videos.”
I flinched. “You saw the videos?” Dylan had bragged about the videos. Sometimes, he’d play them for me so I could watch myself being beaten and relive the moment all over again. He’s dead, Ellie, I reminded myself. He can’t hurt you anymore.
“I don’t have the strength, bright star,” he replied. “Jean-Luc did. Now that Dylan is dead, they will be destroyed.”
I wasn’t concerned about the tapes, not at the moment. “You still asked me to go to Hanoi.”
He sighed. “He was my father, Ellie. I couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger. I was weak.”
“He was your father,” I repeated. “You aren’t angry with me?”
“No.” He exhaled. “I don’t know how I feel, but I’m not angry. Relieved maybe. A little lost. For so long, my goal was to find the girls Dylan had taken and help them.” His lips twisted. “You were the greatest mystery. I didn’t know if you were alive or dead, and without knowing, I couldn’t take down Dylan.”
It was my turn to uncover a few secrets. “You killed Sylvia.”
“Yes.” His voice was unconcerned.
“And Durov in Paris, two years ago?”
He nodded. “I had him killed, yes. And others. Is that a problem?”
“You killed slavers,” I responded. “I have the blood of five men on my hands.” I was, by no means, innocent.
“And destroyed them financially as well,” he added. “It was my act of atonement for what Dylan was.”
“You aren’t him.” Alexander had thought I would kill him. He was so wrong.
“I’m his son.” Alexander’s voice was flat. “Isn’t that close enough?”
I exhaled in frustration and got up to sit next to him on the couch. “I was never afraid of you,” I whispered to him.
He put an arm around me. We sat in silence for a few minutes, then I spoke. “What now?”
He gently disengaged himself. “This is where we part ways, Ellie.” I gazed at him in shock as he continued. “The McAllisters have been part of your life for too long. It’s time for you to find out who you are without our influence.”
Every bit of dismay must have shown on my face, because he made a distressed noise. “We are more than our pasts, Ellie. We are also our hopes for our future. Too much of you has been wrapped up in your past, in exacting your revenge. If you stay here, you never get to find out what your hopes are for your future.”
“Alexander,” I whispered. My heart was breaking.
He looked at me steadily. His expression was open. “I love you, Ellie. But…”
Don’t speak. Not another word. Please don’t cut me loose.
My pleading must have been visible in my expression, because his shoulders straightened and his eyes turned resolute.
“I love you Ellie, but, I’m going to walk out of here and I’m going to let you go. Go find yourself. You owe it to yourself to start over. You were the girl who survived hell. You walked all the way from the dark side, like the survivor that you are, towards the light. Go find out what lies next.”
He ran his hands through his hair. “Remember that night in the symphony? Go find out who your favourite band is, bright star. Your favourite book. Your favourite TV show.”
I wanted to protest, but I realized something important in that moment and it kept me silent. Alexander didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to send me away, any more than I wanted to leave. No, he was doing this because he believed that to set me free was the right thing to do.
All his life, he had made atonement for Dylan’s wrongs. And now, he was setting me free where Dylan would have kept me captive. Dylan wouldn’t have cared how many lives were ruined in the sidelines. Dylan only cared about what he wanted. Alexander was so, so different.
I swallowed. How could I take this away from him? I could beg and cry and perhaps he’d let me stay. But he would lose something important if he relented.
His lips touched my forehead in a soft, infinitely tender kiss. “Goodbye, bright star.”
Then he got up and walked away into the streets of Paris.
Epilogue
Ellie: