‘What does that mean? What do you want from me?’ Her exasperation was starting to show. ‘You show up at my grandmother’s funeral, uninvited. Then you walk into my home, unannounced, and actually at a really bad time. I lost my job this morning.’
The man shrugged, showing zero interest in this information, never mind sympathy.
Christ, he’s rude, thought Ella. Of all the obnoxious, self-centered …
‘You would have had to leave your job anyway,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘You’re going to be working for us from now on, Ella.’
Ella raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh I am, am I? And who exactly is “Us”?’
The man leaned forward, suddenly animated. ‘The organization I represent is a secret but powerful group. We work as a force for justice around the globe.’
Ella stifled the urge to laugh. What was this, a comic book? Next he’d be telling her that they all wore capes and lived in Bat-caves. But when he spoke again he sounded deadly serious.
‘There are things I can explain to you today. Other things will become clear over time. Once you start your training.’
Training? For the first time it occurred to Ella that perhaps this good-looking stranger was actually unhinged. Some sort of paranoid schizophrenic who’d seen her on the street or in the coffee shop and decided to stalk her. First to Mimi’s funeral and now here, at her home. Perhaps she ought to be concerned for her safety?
‘Listen, I’m sorry,’ she said, getting up and walking, calmly, to the front door of the apartment. ‘I’m sure you mean well, but I think you must have me confused with someone else. I’m not going to be doing any “training” or joining any group. I have an ordinary life. I work in an office.’
‘I thought you said you were fired?’
Wow, thought Ella, frowning. He has even worse social skills than I do.
‘Well, yes. I was fired. But that’s not the point. The point is I need you to leave now.’
She held open the door. The man didn’t move.
‘Please go.’ Nothing.
‘I’m serious.’ Ella’s tone hardened. ‘If you don’t leave, I’ll—’
‘Your parents, William and Rachel Praeger, were both important members of The Group,’ the man said, without looking up from the table. ‘They devoted their lives to the cause.’
Ella froze. ‘You knew my parents?’
‘Not personally,’ the man said. ‘I knew of them, naturally. They were legendary in their time. Everyone in The Group knows about the Praegers.’
Ella closed the door. Her heart was beating so fast it was hard to breathe.
She looked at the man. ‘You used the past tense. They “were” legendary.’
‘Yes.’
‘So … my parents are dead?’
‘Yes.’
There was no soft-soaping. No ‘I’m so sorry’ or ‘I thought you knew’. He answered her as bluntly as if she’d asked him the time, or some trivia question. Tactless. Like me, Ella thought again. Not that their similarities eased the blow.
Leaning back against the wall, she fought to steady her breathing. All her life, up until ten days ago, she’d believed her parents were dead, killed in a car crash when she was very young. But since finding the stack of letters hidden in Mimi’s ceiling, she’d been living on hope. Angry hope. Confused hope. But hope nonetheless. That perhaps, miraculously, it wasn’t too late. That one day she would see her mother and father again and they would explain everything. Make everything all right.
But now, with a single word, this stranger, this bizarre, arrogant, handsome man had extinguished that hope, like a priest at the end of Mass, casually snuffing out a candle.
‘Are you sure they’re dead?’ Ella whispered.
‘Quite sure,’ said the man. ‘They died on a mission for us in 2001.’
Two thousand and one. That was the year the letters had stopped.