I gathered myself and used the tail of my black evening gown to wipe my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I sniffed.
Alex just squeezed my shoulder and led me out of Ophelia’s room. We picked our way down the stairs, peeking in rooms and thumbing through bookshelves until we came to my father’s den. Alex was rifling through the top desk drawer when he suddenly stopped and withdrew a large manila envelope. He dumped the contents on the desk.
“Uh, Lawson?”
I dropped the statuette I was holding and went to the desk, sucking in a gasp as I did. I stared down into my own eyes. Into my own face.
“What the—?” I pawed through the heap of photographs—they were all me, from every angle. I was a pudgy, round-eyed baby in some shots, then a toddler, gripping my mother’s hand. There was a long gap, and then the next few pictures were more recent.
“Maybe he was looking for you.”
But they weren’t the photographs of a father longing for his child. There weren’t shots of me grinning, shopping at the Farmer’s Market, snuggling the family dog. They were banal: shots of daily tasks, close-ups of my face, my hands, slipping into the doors above the UDA.
Four days after I was born ... I thought. He was seeking the Vessel; it consumed him... .
I put the photograph I was holding back on the desk. My saliva went sour, my face hot.
“Sophie?”
Alex’s voice sounded tinny, far away.
Now don’t you see? You’re the only one who didn’t know. Poor, dumb baby sister ...
It was Ophelia’s voice and it was happy, giggly.
You know the truth, she said. You know it’s there.... You’ve always known that you weren’t right, you never fit in.... But a prize? Nah. Just a thing. You were always just a thing, Sophie. We know it, Daddy knew it, and now Alex knows it, too.
She whispered the last part and her breath echoed in my mind, ran shivers up my spine.
“You.” The word caught in my throat, hung in the air.
“What?”
I took a step back. “You know ... about me. He knew. My dad knew.”
Alex looked at me, his eyes wide. “What are you talking about? Are you okay? Maybe you should sit down.” Alex reached out for my hand and his touch—usually warm and comforting—was icy and I pulled my hand away, stumbling.
“You know about me.”
Alex opened his mouth and then closed it, and I watched the flash of realization cross over his eyes. “You are the Vessel of Souls.”
I nodded, every inch of my body tense, on high alert. I was aware each time my heart beat, was certain of each pump of blood. I was ready to run but Alex just sat, stunned.
“You.”
I could feel the tears pooling behind my eyes. “You didn’t know?”
Alex wagged his head. “I had no idea. When did—did you always know?”
“No. Will told me.”
“Will? The guy from your apartment building?”
I nodded. “He told me after he bailed me out of jail. Yesterday.”
Alex’s eyes flashed. “Geez, Lawson. Jail?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”
Alex rubbed his palm over his forehead. “Okay. So how does this Will guy know anything about you—about you being—”
“The Vessel.”
Alex just nodded, wouldn’t say the words.
“He’s the seventh guardian.”
Shock registered across Alex’s features. “Well, I’ll be... .”
I bit my lip. “So, you really didn’t know.”
“Know? Lawson, I’ve been chasing my tail around this my whole afterlife. If I knew it was you I’d—”
“You’d what?”
He looked me up and down, slowly, carefully choosing his words. “I—I don’t know. I don’t even know what this means for ...” He let the word trail off.
“For you. You don’t know what it means for you.”
“Come on, Lawson. This is a lot to process. You’ve got to give me a minute. I mean, first you’re Satan’s kid, then Ophelia’s sister, now this. Are you sure? Absolutely sure?”
“As sure as I can be. I don’t know what any of this”—I flung my arms open wide—“means.”
Alex opened his mouth and then closed it again. “Plain sight,” he murmured.
“Plain sight,” I agreed.
“I don’t understand.”
I shook my head. “Neither do I. But I’m not wrong.”
“Okay,” Alex said with a monumental sigh. “Now what?”
“Now what? Now we throw a big welcome-home party for my dad. I don’t know! I’m a vessel. I’m a thing !”
“You’re not a thing, Lawson. You’re you.”
“Eloquent.”
There was a soft knock on the office door, and then Nina poked her head in. “Are we done spying? I’m bored.”
“Nina! You’re supposed to be standing watch!”
Nina looked over one narrow shoulder. “Clear,” she said.
I grabbed Alex by the sleeve of his shirt and hustled him toward Nina. “I want to get out of here. I need to get out of here.”
Nina followed behind us. “What’d you find out about dear ol’ dad? Cross-dresser? Closet masochist? Satan?”
“It wasn’t about Szabo,” Alex said, his voice steady as he carefully chose his words. “It was about Sophie.”