The Oracle (Fargo Adventures 11)

“I’m cold,” Jol whispered. “And hungry.”

“Me, too,” Maryam replied.

“Scoot together,” Remi said quietly as they sat at the base of a large tree. “You’ll keep warmer. We’ll try to find some food when it’s light.”

“I have food,” Nasha said. She slipped her pack off her shoulders, unzipped it, and pulled out a stale roll, two very bruised bananas, and an apple. The girls split the bananas among them. Remi sat down next to Nasha. “What other kinds of treasures do you keep in that pack of yours?”

“My school board,” she said. “And your phone.”

She pulled out the phone and gave it to Remi. As expected, the battery was dead. Remi handed it back to her, saying, “You think you can hold on to this for me?”

Nasha said yes and returned it to her pack, carefully zipping the pocket.

The four older girls made a bed of dried leaves, curling up tightly next to one another. Amal leaned up against a tree trunk, Nasha in her lap, the child clutching her backpack close to her chest. Remi took the first watch, standing at the edge of the clearing. The forest was anything but quiet. The rustle of leaves in the canopy above mixed with the chirps and buzzing of nocturnal creatures and insects. A snap of a twig just outside the clearing broke the otherwise peaceful sounds. Just as Remi was regretting that Nasha hadn’t been able to get her backpack—and the gun within—a leopard wandered in. It looked over at them with only mild interest in its glowing eyes before slinking off into the night—hopefully, in search of far easier prey.

Come morning, she was going to need to find a very big stick. Breathing a sigh of relief, she moved closer to the girls. But in the three hours she stood watch, the leopard didn’t return. She switched places with Amal, warning her about it just in case.

Nasha stirred, opening her eyes, as Remi shifted the girl into her lap. “How will Mr. Fargo find us?” Nasha whispered.

“Because he’s very, very smart,” Remi said. “Like you.”

Nasha snuggled in closer, alseep within seconds.

Not so Remi. She looked up, a break in the canopy revealing the bright stars set in the black sky. Where are you, Sam …?

Years ago, they’d met by chance at the Lighthouse Cafe in Hermosa Beach. And while she wouldn’t call it love at first sight, by the end of the night she knew he was the one. He’d walked her to her car, telling her that he’d see her again—soon.

“You sound pretty sure of yourself,” she’d told him. “Exactly how will you find me?”

“Do you know anything about constellations?” he’d asked.

Considering that her college major had an emphasis on ancient trade routes, she knew a lot about them. “A bit,” she’d replied.

“That star there,” he said, pointing up into the sky. “The one at the end of the Little Dipper.”

“The North Star?”

“You find that, you’ll find anything.” He stared up at it a moment, then looked over at her. “It’ll always lead me to you.”

“What if we’re in the Southern Hemisphere where we can’t see Polaris?”

He laughed, leaned down, and kissed her for the first time. “Just in case, a phone number works.”

She’d never given her phone number to anyone—and definitely not to someone she’d just met at a bar. But she had that night. And she ended up marrying the man.

Ever since, the North Star had brought her comfort. It did now, even though she couldn’t see it. Somewhere out there, he was looking for her. He’d find her. He’d find all of them. And everything would be right in the world.

All she had to do was keep the girls safe …

“Mrs. Fargo.”

Her head filled with fog, she turned away, trying to capture the dream she’d left behind. She and Sam were running down the beach with their German shepherd, Zoltán.

“Mrs. Fargo,” Amal whispered. “There’s someone out there. You need to wake up. Now.”

CHAPTER FIFTY

The heart of the wise man lies quiet like limpid water.