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Indigo ignored Jude until they reached the station. When the
train stopped, he stood up, walking alongside her as she headed to the
platform.

“Fucking stalker,” Indigo hissed.

If Jude heard, he didn’t say. He kept pace with her as she reached
the escalator. Indigo stepped on the stair ahead of him, gritting her teeth.
“Asshole,” she muttered, her eyes lifting as they rose back to the surface. The
sun had risen high enough that light was passing down through the windows above
the exterior doors. The bands were angled like an image that Indigo had once
seen in a shot in her film class. It’d been an old film of Grand Central
Station – taken in the twenties – but this morning, the grungy subway station,
with its faded 1960’s tile, was transformed.

Jude touched her arm, and she jerked away.

“What?” she snapped.

He pointed up ahead to the busy exit and the light streaming
down onto the commuters.

“If you want,” Jude offered, “I could film you walking out.”
He shrugged. “I assume you’re getting shots for your film, right?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to help?”

 “This isn’t gonna change anything,” she said fiercely.
“It’s over with us!”

Jude’s face wilted. “I know,” he said dully.

Indigo turned to look back at the light. Even now it was starting
to fade. With a sigh she shoved the bag at him.

“Fine!” she grumbled. “Get the footage. If you’re here you
might as well be useful.”

“After,” Jude said, unzipping the pack. “Maybe we could talk
about—”

“Not a fucking chance!” she barked before stalking away.

: : :
: : : : : : :

Marq woke to the sound of two phones: the cell phone,
somewhere in his pile of clothing, and the hard-wired phone in the kitchen.
They alternated back and forth, one ringing until it went to message, then the
other taking over, and then back again. Marq groaned, rubbing his hand over his
face.

Last night had been a little too much fun.

He stumbled out of bed, throwing clothes out of the way as
the ringing grew louder. Finding his cell phone, he clicked it on.

“H’lo?”

“Marq,” came Luca’s growling voice. “Thought I was going to
have to come over there and wake you up myself.”

“No, no,” he said, coughing to clear his throat. “I’m fine.
Awake now.”

“Good,” Luca said. “Where’s your friend, Jude?”

“Just a sec,” Marq answered, yawning. “Lemme look.”

He staggered out of his bedroom and into the hallway, head
pounding. The apartment was unexpectedly quiet. He put a hand over the phone,
shouting. “Jude?”

There was no answer. He walked down the hallway, peeking
into the kitchen and living room.

“Marq,” Luca’s muffled voice intruded, “do you
know
where
Jude Alden is?”

“I… um,” Marq said, lifting the phone to his ear, “I’m not
sure. He’s usually around, unless he’s at work.” He came back down the hallway,
pounding on the bedroom door.

“Hey buddy!” he shouted. “You in there?”

There was no answer, so he pushed it open.

“Marq,” Luca interrupted, “Mr. Fischer is concerned that
someone is showing some
interest
in Jude.”

“What?”

“There was an anonymous call to the police this morning,”
Luca explained. “The second one in two weeks. It pointed the finger at Jude.”

“Oh shit!”

“Exactly,” Luca chuckled. “So I need you to find him, and I
need you to keep an eye on him. Take him out, get him a girl, keep him busy,
keep
him in your sights.
You understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes,” Marq said, “absolutely.”

“Good,” Luca replied. “I’ll be in contact with you soon.
Find him!” he added. “And don’t lose him, or King will be
unhappy
with
you
.
”

“Right.”

The phone clicked off, and Marq glanced at the screen. He had
five new messages. With a sigh, he began listening to them. Two of them were
from Luca. Two were from his mother, reminding him he was supposed to be coming
home for the weekend.

The last message was from Keith, asking to meet about some
‘research’ he needed done.

: : :
: : : : : : :

Indigo and Jude had taken footage capturing various moments
of Indigo’s life as the day passed. Jude acted as gopher and cameraman, while
Indigo led him on a show and tell of the inner city. They’d taken several
scenes of the street, stopped in for lunch at a homeless shelter where Indigo
had talked to the manager, and driven past the juvenile detention center where
she’d been sent. Afterward, they’d visited an apartment building that was now
being renovated into condos. All of them snapshots into her life.  

Jude had filled the uneasy silence with his own stories. He
started with bits and pieces of his own past, gradually adding in details of
his parents’ divorce and finally sharing the story of his father’s death.

“There was an investigation into the fire,” Jude explained, “but
no charges were ever filed. Something was wrong… everyone agreed with that. A
fire that burned too hot, and wouldn’t die down. But no one ever
really
knew.”

Indigo stared at him for a long moment.

“That sucks,” she finally said.

“Yeah,” he said with a tired laugh. “It does.”

She turned, walking away, but her words drifted back.
“Sometimes shitty things happen to good people,” she said. “Don’t overthink it,
Jude. That’s just the way life is.”

He didn’t know if it was the storytelling, or just being
together again, but with each new stop, Indigo had thawed, until she was
talking to him again. The anger fading. Arriving at a downtown club, she nudged
him with her elbow.

“You can film that,” she said quietly.

“This?” Jude asked.

“Yeah,” she muttered, not holding his gaze. “This is where I
used to hang out, before…”

 She didn’t say any more, but he was starting to guess
it. They were nearing the break before that part of her life, and the next. The
story that he
did
know.

Walking up the snowy streets near dinnertime, Indigo waved
up ahead. The apartment was multi-storied and faded, like a photograph worn by
too many hands. It was their final stop. Jude stood next to Indigo on the
sidewalk, his eyes on the brick structure. Indigo hadn’t told him where they were,
but he recognized it from the street-view map he’d looked at online.

This was her mom’s apartment.

Indigo turned toward him, putting a hand on his arm. “Look,”
she said tightly. “Thanks for the help today, Jude, but you don’t have to come
up this time if you don’t want to.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “Seriously, I don’t mind.”

Indigo seemed to realize she was still touching him, and she
pulled away, tucking her hand into her sleeve.

“I mean, I don’t have to come if you don’t want me to,” Jude
said, “but if you want someone to film, I can. I’ll just stay in the
background.”

Indigo turned, glaring at the street. She chewed her lower
lip.

“I… I haven’t seen her since I ran away the last time,”
Indigo said. She turned back to look at him. “I was seventeen then.”

Jude gave a sympathetic smile.

“But you’re here now.”

“I dunno if I want to be.”

She sighed, the sound carrying with it a weight Jude wished
he could relieve.

“I’ll come along if you want… as a
friend
.” He reached
out his hand. Indigo looked down at his palm, unmoving. “And if things get bad
I’ll fake a nosebleed or something.”

The corner of her mouth tugged up.

“Smooth,” Indigo chuckled.

“I just want to help,” he said.

She nodded, reaching out and putting her hand in his for the
first time that day.

“I know you do.”

: : :
: : : : : : :

Marq sat in the Starbucks near the university, leg jiggling
in irritation. Keith was officially late, but Marq had other things occupying
his mind. The first was the trouble with Luca. The mobster had contacted him
twice, increasingly agitated that Marq hadn’t located Jude yet. Marq
knew
Jude
was somewhere in the city, but that wasn’t good enough. Luca wanted specifics.
Marq had sent Jude five separate texts, asking where he was, and if he wanted
to meet up for lunch later, but Jude’s only answer had been cryptic:
I’m
busy.

The bells above the door chimed, and Marq glanced up. A
blond man wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase was standing just in the
doorway. He scanned the crowd, his eyes darting nervously from one person to
the other, finally stopping on Marq. It was, Marq realized in surprise, Callum
Woodrow, one of the profs from the university. But that wasn’t the person he
was waiting to meet.

“Marq?” Professor Woodrow called.

Marq blinked in confusion as Woodrow strode forward.

“I’m Keith,” Woodrow said, and Marq realized that the
professor had
no idea
they’d met before. Sometimes, he thought in
annoyance, being a tech guy was like having no identity at all.

“I’m Marq,” he said dryly. “You look familiar,
Keith.
”
He smirked. “Certain we haven’t met before?”

“I don’t think so,” Woodrow said coolly.

Marq shoved out a chair with his foot, waiting while Woodrow
sat down next to him. With his fancy suit, and polished shoes, he looked more
like a banker than a professor. Marq didn’t care. This was going to be his big
payout, and if playing along with the cloak and dagger act was what it took, so
be it.

“Well, maybe you just have a familiar face.”

“Mmph, maybe.” Woodrow settled into the chair, his eyes
flitting around the room, as if nervous he’d be seen. “Thanks for meeting me,”
Woodrow said. “I’ve been looking for someone who could help me.”

“Sure, man,” Marq answered, “I’m happy to help, as long as
you can pay what I asked.”

“Money’s not a problem,” Woodrow said, leaning closer. “I
want information on someone.”

“So you want, like, details on their life and stuff?”

 “Everything!” Woodrow hissed. “I want to know what
he’s done – I want to know where he’s been!” The bells above the door chimed
and he jerked back around, eyes darting. Marq knew Woodrow tended to be
irritable, but today he was downright edgy, his energy unsettling. “He’s up to
something. Not sure what yet, but he is,” he continued. “I had some trouble
with him before, and I tried to tell the police about him, but they asked too
many questions so I thought—”

“Just give me a name,” Marq interrupted. “That’s all I need,
Professor Woodrow
.”

Cal’s face blanched. He stared at Marq for a long moment as
if undecided. Finally he reached into his pocket, pulling out a card with a
name printed across one side. He held it in the air between them.

“Look,” Woodrow growled. “I… I can’t let anyone know I hired
you to do this.”

“It’s fine,” Marq said, rolling his eyes. “You’re not the
only one who’s hired someone to snoop around.”

He reached out, plucking the card from Woodrow’s fingers.

“No. I’m SERIOUS,” Woodrow insisted. “If someone
knew
I was doing this, there could be serious repercussions for me!”

Marq’s eyes dropped to the card, and in that moment, the
sound in the room seemed to drop away to nothing.
Jude Alden.
Marq was
up out of the chair, and headed for the door in seconds.

“Wait!” Woodrow called. “Marq! I need to know how you’re
going to contact me!”

The bells chimed on the door again. Marq was gone.

: : :
: : : : : : :

Indigo stood in the hallway outside the apartment next to
Jude, palms sweaty and heart racing. The buzzer downstairs had been broken, and
after pressing it numerous times, someone had come through the front door.
“Just head up,” he’d said. “None of the buzzers work.”

Sherry Sykes wasn’t even going to have
that
much
warning.

Standing here now, details kept snapping into focus for
Indigo: the pattern on the wallpaper in the hallway, the sound of a vacuum
coming from behind the door, a woman laughing at the other end of the corridor.

“You okay?” Jude asked.

“No.”

Heart in throat, Indigo lifted her hand, knocking twice
before she could change her mind. Inside the apartment, the vacuum flicked off.

“Hold on a minute!” a woman called.

There was the thud of approaching footsteps, and the door
pulled open. Ten years were erased in seconds. Her mother looked much the same
– blonde hair, bow lips, blue eyes – though she was shorter than Indigo remembered.

“Yes?” Sherry said.

Indigo tried to speak, but she couldn’t force the words past
the lump in her throat. Her eyes were burning, her mother’s face blurring in
her vision. One second passed, and then two. Sherry’s eyes widened, her hands
rising as if wanting to reach out, but unable to.

“My God!” she gasped, “Indie Baby?”

“I came back,” Indigo croaked, hot tears spilling over her
cheeks.

Indigo’s mother’s arms wrapped around her, Everything felt
like it was pivoting around this moment: her mother’s hands against her back,
the remembered scent of White Shoulder’s perfume, new once more, the laughter
in the distant hallway, and Jude, waiting nearby. Overwhelmed by emotion,
Indigo’s chest heaved as years of regrets surfaced. She closed her eyes,
letting the moment enfold her.

“It’s okay,” her mother whispered, “you’re here now. It’s
okay.”

She was home.

: : :
: : : : : : :

Marq stood in King’s office, hands in fists at his side.
It’d taken him almost an hour to get access to Tyrone “King” Fischer, but he
needed to tell someone who could do something about it. Someone who could
protect Jude!

“You need to listen!” Marq cried. “Jude’s in trouble!
That’s
got to be why I couldn’t find him today!”