I lowered my head. “I wish I could change things. I put him in danger’s way and I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Oh, Anya, don’t be so overdramatic. I sometimes forget you’re only a sixteen-year-old girl until you go and say something silly like that. Win will recover and the experience will be character-building for him. Life has been too easy on Win. At this point, the main reason I care about Win getting shot is because it puts his name in the news and it links my name with your name. You see my problem?”
I nodded.
“If I don’t punish you in some way for the possession charges, I’ll be seen to be showing favoritism to the girlfriend of my son. Even worse, this person is tied to the bravta in some way. My enemies will argue that I am weak on organized crime. I can’t afford that. I announce my candidacy for DA the first week of June.”
“I see.”
“So, I’ve told you my predicament. Would you like to know what yours is?” Charles Delacroix asked.
“Go for it.”
“Actually, you have several problems, poor girl. The first is your brother. I don’t care where he is but others in your family do, and if I release the bullet tests, they’ll know what you did. They’ll track Leo down, and they’ll kill him. Possibly you, too. The second is your precious baby sister, who is, for the moment, without a legal guardian. I know you’re the real guardian in the situation, but people are foolish and I doubt you want, say, Child Protective Services getting in your business. The third is the possession charges. We’ve gone over those. And the fourth is my son. He loves you. You love him. But ugh, his father! Why is he trying to keep you apart?”
Yes, that about covered it. “Looks pretty bleak.”
“I can help you,” he said. “I’ve been thinking of the first time we met on the ferry back from Liberty. I’ve been thinking of something you told me your father used to say to you. Do you remember what it was?”
“Daddy used to say a lot,” I replied.
“You said that your father always told you that you shouldn’t make an agreement unless you knew exactly what you were going to get out of it.”
“Yes, that was Daddy,” I said.
“Well, Anya, I once asked you not to pursue a relationship with my son, but I didn’t have a counteroffer. Today, I do. This offer only lasts for a very short time, though. I need you to decide tonight.”
And so, he laid it out for me. Mr. Delacroix would make certain that the information about the bullet tests would never be released to the public, thus securing Leo’s safety. In exchange, I would be sent to the Liberty Children’s Facility for the summer on the possession charges so that Mr. Delacroix could show his constituents that he was not weak on crime. While I was at Liberty, Natty would be at genius camp. (I asked him how he knew about that: “I know everything, Anya—it’s my job.”) This arrangement would help ensure that Child Protective Services would have no need to get involved with us as Natty would never go without a guardian. Over the summer, Charles Delacroix would help to push through the paperwork that made me an emancipated minor and also Natty’s official legal guardian. In exchange, I would end things with Win. I would be allowed to see him one last time before going into Liberty, but that would only be for the purposes of breaking it off.
“I’m sorry about that last part,” he said. “As I said, I like you very much. But as long as you’re with him, it’s an ongoing problem for me. And yes, perhaps I understated my concern for Win’s welfare before. Though this first bullet was character-building for the boy, I’d rather him not get shot again. I’d like my son to live to see twenty.”
I considered Charles Delacroix’s offer: Liberty for three months and no more Win forever in exchange for my brother’s safety and my sister’s safety. Two for two. Yes, this seemed fair. It wouldn’t be hard to end it with Win because, in a way, this was what I wanted to do anyway. I loved him, but he wasn’t safe around me. “How do I know you’ll keep your word?”
“Because I have as much to gain and to lose as you do,” Charles Delacroix replied.
The third Sunday in May (two weeks until Liberty), Natty and I went to church for the first time in ages. I did not confess because the line was too long, as was my list of sins. I did receive the host. The liturgy was, appropriately enough, about sacrifice: how there was redemption in it, even if it wasn’t always immediately apparent. And, this was nearly enough to steel me to do what I had to do next.
After church, Natty and I went to see Win at his apartment. Charles Delacroix had eased up on the guards. Win had also been told that his father had eased up on me. (Win had not yet been informed about my forthcoming stay at Liberty, however.) Natty had missed Win terribly, maybe as much as I had. She drew flowers on the cast that had replaced the metal pins, and she also returned his hat, which had been in her possession since prom night. “Win and I need to talk alone for a bit,” I told Natty.
“Ooh, are you guys going to kiss?” Natty teased us.
“Let’s go outside,” Win suggested. “I’m able to get around a little now. Besides, I’m in danger of turning into a total vampire if I don’t see daylight every now and again.”
We went out to his mother’s rooftop garden. We sat down at a picnic table as Win still needed to rest often. It was incredibly sunny and I wished for sunglasses. Win put his hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun. What a nice boy he was.
I had practiced what I would say, which made my words sound rehearsed.
“Win,” I began, “during our time apart, I’ve been thinking and I realized something. I don’t think we’re suited for each other.”
Win laughed at me. I would need to up my game if he was to believe me.
“I’m serious, Win. We can’t be together. We can’t be.” I made sure to look him in the eye when I said this. Eye contact made people think you were being truthful even when you weren’t.
“Did my father put you up to this?”
“No. This is me. But I do think your father’s right about you,” I said. “I mean, look at you. You are weak. There’s no point. I could never be with someone like you in the long term.”
He said he still didn’t believe me.
“There’s someone else,” I said.
“Who?” he barked.
“Yuji Ono.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe what you want,” I said. “But I’ve been seeing him since my cousin’s wedding. We have the same background and interests. He understands me, Win, in a way that you never could.” And then I was crying. I hoped this would make me look guilty. My sister’s and brother’s lives depended on it.
“You’re making this up!” Win said.
“I wish I was.” I cried even more. “I’m sorry, Win.”
“If this is true, you’re not the person I thought you were,” Win said.
“That’s the thing, Win, you never knew me.” I stood up from the bench. “I won’t be seeing you again. I’m going to Teen Crime Scene Summer”—why I told this lie, I do not know; I suppose I didn’t want him to think of me locked up all summer—“and then I won’t be coming back to Holy Trinity in the fall. I don’t know if you’ve heard that I’ve been expelled. You … I really did love you.”
“You just don’t anymore,” he said flatly.
I nodded and then I left. Had I spoken, I feared giving myself away.
I went down to Win’s room to get Natty. “We have to go,” I said, grabbing her hand.
“Where’s Win?” she asked.
“He …” And here, another lie. This one so that Natty didn’t ask me a lot of questions. “He ended it with me.”
“I don’t believe you!” Natty said, pulling her hand from mine.
No one believed me. “I’m telling you, it’s true,” I said. “He told me that he’d met someone. A nurse in the hospital.”
“Well, I hate him, then,” Natty decided. “I’ll hate Win Delacroix for the rest of my life.”
She took my hand, and th
en we walked back to our apartment. “It’s just as well,” she said. “You’ll meet someone new in Washington. I’m sure of it.”
I hadn’t had the heart to tell Natty that I was going to Liberty either. Miss Bellevoir had described Natty’s camp as being “isolated from the rest of the world,” which meant Natty wouldn’t figure out where I’d been until she got back and saw I wasn’t there. (In the four-week gap between her return and my release, Imogen would watch her.) My justification for this lie was that Natty had had a hard-enough year already: Nana’s death, Leo’s disappearance, and everything else. Let her think I was living it up at Teen Crime Scene Summer. I wanted her to feel free to enjoy herself and be the kid genius she was meant to be without worrying about her big sister in the reformatory. I wanted her to have the summer I might have had, if only things had been different.
XX.
i set my house in order; am returned to liberty
THE FIRST MONDAY IN JUNE, Natty left for genius camp with Miss Bellevoir.
Following the terms of our agreement, Charles Delacroix announced my sentence to the media on Tuesday. It came toward the tail end of a press conference that had largely been about matters relating to his recently announced candidacy. “As Miss Balanchine is only a minor,” he said, “she is being given the relatively light sentence of ninety days at Liberty Children’s Facility. Let us not forget that she used the gun in self-defense and that she also saved a life that night. A life very near to my heart.”
“Mr. Delacroix,” a reporter called out. “Is Miss Balanchine still involved with your son?”
Mr. Delacroix replied, “Sadly, no! My sources tell me she has found a new boyfriend. The course of true teenage love never did run smooth.” There was mirth in his voice when he said this, and I hated him for it.
Another reporter: “Is it true that while in detainment for shooting your son Jakov Pirozhki confessed to orchestrating the Balanchine chocolate contamination?”
“Expect an announcement about that in the next several days,” Mr. Delacroix replied. “But yes.”
So, Jacks had done it. Though Jacks had sworn that he hadn’t and had told my brother it was Mickey, this news didn’t exactly come as a surprise. Jacks would have done whatever he could to improve his position in the Family. I suspect that included the particularly repellent act of convincing Leo to shoot Yuri Balanchine, who was Jacks’s own father, after all. Though Yuri’s heart was badly damaged, he had, more or less, recovered. In the wake of Jacks’s confession and to facilitate Natty’s and my safety, I felt it was time to mend fences.
Wednesday, I called a summit with Yuri, Mickey, and all the other Balanchines.
Mr. Kipling accompanied me. Before we went in, he asked me, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
I assured him that I did.
Security at the Pool had been particularly tight in the months since the shooting, and Mr. Kipling and I were both thoroughly frisked before we were allowed in the building.
The space that had been chosen for the meeting was a round conference table that was at the bottom of a lap pool. A lift had been installed along the side of the pool for Yuri’s wheelchair. The rest of us had to climb down using ladders. Everyone else had already arrived. My seat was at the opposite end of the table from Yuri’s, in the deep end.
I was the only female at the meeting, and I had chosen my wardrobe carefully. Nana used to say that it alienated the men if they thought you were trying to dress like them, so a men’s suit was out of the question. I had tried wearing one of Nana’s old dresses, but it seemed too formal and like I was playing dress-up. What I finally settled on was my good old school uniform. It was nonthreatening, I thought, but also somehow official.
I sat down in my chair, and Mr. Kipling stood behind me, as was the custom.
“So, young lady.” Yuri’s voice echoed across the pool. “You called this meeting. What do you have to say for yourself?”
I cleared my throat. Daddy always said that it was a lie that you should only speak from your heart—you ought to let your brain play a part, too. I cleared my throat again. “Many of you know that tomorrow I begin a three-month sentence at Liberty Children’s Facility. It’s not Rikers Island but it won’t exactly be a trip to Hawaii either.”
The men laughed at this.
“I wanted to speak to you today because this bloodshed has to stop. In the last ten years, I have lost my mother, my grandmother, and my father. My brother may or may not be dead, but he is lost to me. The only one I have left is my sister and”—here, I paused to look at each of the faces of my ragtag band of relatives—“all of you.”
There were murmurs of approval.
“I think about what Cousin Jacks did, and what I feel is incredibly sad. He truly felt his only option was poisoning the supply and my brother’s mind. You might wonder if I bear ill will toward Jacks, and I am here to tell you that I do not. My deepest hope is that there will be no more retaliations in the wake of Jacks’s confession and that my sister and I can live our lives in peace. I am just a girl, and even I can see that we will destroy ourselves if we don’t stop fighting each other. We must treat each other as family again.” I paused. “That’s all I have to say.”
It was not the most eloquent speech, but I had said my piece.
Yuri peered up at me. “Little Anya, who is now a grown woman, I see. Anya, you have my personal assurances that no one will seek out your brother, if he should still be alive. And that, if in some time, after emotions have cooled, he should choose to return to you, young Leo will not be harmed. It was my mistake to employ him at the Pool against the wishes of my dear departed half brother Leonyd, and I have certainly learned my lesson. You have my additional assurance that you and your sister can go about in peace. No one holds you responsible for shooting my son Jacks or for his imprisonment. It pains me to say this but he is the product of a tainted union and perhaps the bastard deserves what he got.”
Uncle Yuri rolled his wheelchair toward me. The chair descended easily, as the pool floor was sloped and I was seated in the deep end.
When he got to me, the old man kissed me on both of my cheeks. “So like your father,” Uncle Yuri said, and then he whispered in my ear, “You could run this place better than either of my sons.”
The next day, I returned to Liberty. I was greeted by Mrs. Cobrawick. She was wary of me, but couldn’t resist saying, “I had a feeling we’d be seeing each other again,” before leading me to the Children’s Orientation area for the long-term special (minus the tattoo, as I already had one). I found Liberty no better or worse than the last time I was there. Perhaps it was easier because I knew how long I would be there. Also, I had learned to avoid conflict. Keep your head low. Don’t make eye contact.
By coincidence or design, I had the same bunkmate, Mouse. Welcome back, she wrote.
“What do the papers say about me this time around?” I asked.
“Mob Daughter Saves Boyfriend.”
Mouse was quiet, but good company. And truthfully, I did not mind the quiet. It gave me time to think about all the things I would need to do once I got out. I had to find a school for myself. Maybe a new school for Natty, too. If she was as bright as they said, maybe a place like Holy Trinity wasn’t enough for her. Maybe I’d even take time off before finishing high school. I didn’t know.
Sometimes I thought about Win, but I tried not to.
In any event, I was not without visitors.
Scarlet came to see me as often as she could. Once, she even brought Gable. I suppose they were in love, as much as that disgusted me. She claimed he had atoned for his sins, but part of me would never see him as anything but that boy in my bedroom who—I can admit this now—had so terrified me. Part of me doubted that a person could ever really and truly change. I suppose I was just as prejudiced as everyone else in this stupid world.
One day, my cousin Mickey showed up. I was surprised to see him, and I didn’t hesitate to tell him so.
“Dad’
s dying,” Mickey said. “I doubt he’ll make it to the end of the year. He wanted me to come and see you, though.”
“Thanks.”
“I was glad to. I mean, I wanted to see you. I love Dad, but he never should have been the one running this family. Dad was just a chocolate salesman. He wasn’t good about being on the opposite side of the law. He let things get disorganized. He wanted to do right by people, but he didn’t know how. It should have been your grandmother, but there was resistance to the idea because she was a woman.”
That’s not the story I had heard, but whatever. “These foolish men.”
“I agree. That’s why I think this family shouldn’t repeat the same mistake again. You and I should run things together,” Mickey said. “Chocolate wasn’t always illegal, and, maybe, someday soon, it won’t be again. Maybe if we’re smart, we can win the fight with lawyers instead of guns. Charles Delacroix will win the election and he is a pragmatic man. I believe he will listen.”
I said nothing.
“Yuji Ono thinks very highly of you,” Mickey continued. “My father thinks very highly of you. My wife, Sophia, thinks very highly of you. I think very highly of you. Next year is your last year of high school. You’ll have a choice to make. Whether you want to be a bystander or a participant. It’s up to you.”
“Listen, Anya,” he continued. “I know what lengths you went to, to protect that little family of yours. Those acts did not go unnoticed. Have you ever wondered if it would be easier to protect them if you were the one calling the shots?”
“Calling the shots with you?”
“Yes, with me. You’re very young. And you are, as you said, just a girl. We could be a team. I’ve been watching you for some time. I believe, with the right moves, our business can become completely legitimate again. And if chocolate were legal …”
He did not have to finish that thought. We both knew exactly what that would mean. If chocolate were legal, Natty would be safe. We wouldn’t need to carry guns or involve ourselves with black market operations. And maybe I could be with a nice boy like Win again.