Dead Girl Running (The New Order Book 1) (12 page)

Again he wrenches the truth from me better than any Psychiatrist. “Because I didn’t want to be here anymore, all right? I wanted to be with my Dad instead.”

My words hang in the air. I glance around as if the sky is about to fall. I just admitted out loud one of my most guarded secrets. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut like I usually do? I brace for Franco’s response.

“What about your mom?” His voice is even-toned, but his jaw is clenched, and I can’t tell if it’s due to concern or pity. “Didn’t you care what happened to her?”

My breath catches. It’s like I’m back in Psychotherapy, except this time someone’s actually asking all the right questions. I clench my hands, forcing myself to calm down. “Of course I care about my mom. And she and I have talked about this. We were both being selfish at the time, only thinking about ourselves and not being there for each other. Everything is better when one lives not only for oneself.”

“You’re quite the philosopher. Or did you read that on a propaganda pamphlet?”

My head spins. Is he being sarcastic or kind? “You ask too many questions.”

His face relaxes into a smile. “So I’ve been told.”

I cross my arms, careful to turn my inner wrists to the inside. “How about you let me ask the questions for a change?”

“Okay.”

“Why’d you offer to show me around Plant Production? Did you owe Liam a favor or something?” Oh man, where did that question come from? Franco never should’ve mentioned my scars. That always sets me on edge.

He shrugs. “That’s a fair question, and I’ve been too nosy. I asked you along because of your dad.”

My eyes narrow. “Why do
you
care about
my
dad?”

Franco’s smile falls. He pulls me deeper into the greenhouse towards the end of a row of sunflowers. We stand alone, separated from all other human ears.

He takes a deep breath. “My uncle worked with your father. He was killed in the same explosion.”

ack at work again the following morning, I hum the haunting melody Mom practiced on her violin last night. We’d barely spoken after I got home which wasn’t all that unusual. Her tense face warned me to be quiet and give her the space she needed to focus on her music. Plus, I needed the time to process everything Franco had told me about his connection to the accident that changed my life. His uncle had died alongside my father. He knew what my family had been through. Plus, he was a genius. He’d described all of his many projects to me in detail. He was as smart as Gus.

Almost.

Mid-morning, Gus clears his throat. “Silvia, is there a reason you keep repeating the same five bars of music over and over again? Or is this an evil plot to make me lose my mind?”

“I met someone.” And I can’t stop smiling, even though our main topic on the way home last night was my father’s death. It should depress me, but it doesn’t. Instead, I feel like I’ve finally got something in common with someone. And that someone is Franco. All I want is to see him again. Soon.

“I knew this would happen to you eventually.” Gus sighs dramatically, reminding me of his past days in the theater. “I suppose this means it’s all downhill from here. You’ll float around in a daze, get sloppy in your work, and ruin my high opinion of you.”

I laugh. “I promise I won’t let it affect my job.”

“Glad to hear it.” He turns back to his autopsy. “Hand me a new scalpel. This one’s dull already. They sure don’t make things like they used to.”

I scurry across the room, unwrap the foil protecting the blade, and hand it over.

“What’s this lucky guy’s name?” Gus waggles his unruly eyebrows.

“Nobody you know,” I assure him.

“Maybe I should meet him. Make sure he’s good enough for you.”

I chuckle. “One of the things I always liked about you, Gus, was that you weren’t nosy. So much for that, I guess.”

“Since I don’t have any children, I’ve got to be protective of somebody. You’re always hanging around here, so it might as well be you.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you.” I take a deep breath. “His name is Franco Harman… but don’t say anything to anyone because—”

The fresh blade clatters to the floor.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?” I swoop down to gather the instrument then glance up at his pale face.

Gus shakes his head. “Sorry about that. You have no—it’s just—I’m sorry.” He wipes his brow with the back of a bloody glove and takes a deep breath. “I haven’t heard that name in a very long time.”

“You
know
him?” I stand and set the scalpel holder on the tray.

“He was Ben’s student. His prize intern, in fact.”

My heart sinks. Poor Gus. I hate reminding him of his sad past. “He said he studied under the best,” I murmur.

Gus smiles weakly. “Ben expected big things out of that boy. But that was many years ago. He must be…” His eyes widen.

“Yeah… a few years older than me.” I shrug. “Please don’t say anything to anybody. It’s really just a stupid crush of mine. He did give me a tour of his greenhouse yesterday.”

Gus raises his eyebrows. “And how did you like it?”

“Honestly, the interns there are only doing baby steps. I’m doing much harder work here. I think this job is
much
more challenging. And I like to challenge myself. I don’t want to be bored all the time.”

“Good. And you’re right. Most of Plant Production is very menial work. Of course, I’m sure your not-so-young Franco has moved up in the ranks.”

“Yes. He’s in charge of quite a few projects.”

Gus makes a silly face. “He sounds so
dreamy.
”

I laugh. “That. And a bit mad. His mood changes ‘faster than the weather’ as my mom likes to say.”

Gus focuses his gaze on the autopsy on the table. “I’m not following you.”

“Well… the greenhouse he works in is located right next to the Incinerator. When we got there, he shouted at the workers about some pollution thing then turned around, all polite-like, and took me for a tour of the greenhouse. One second, he was flailing his arms and screaming, and the next, he was cracking jokes.”

“How peculiar. Better get a new boyfriend.”

“And I thought he’d be mad at me, as well, for bringing bodies to the Incinerator, but he didn’t seem to care one bit.”

“A little uneven personality, I’d say. You could do better.”

“Then when one of his students spilled something, I braced myself expecting the worst, but he was so kind to her.”

Gus smirks. “Was she pretty?”

“Very funny.” I shake my head. “I just don’t get him.”

“He sounds like a mad scientist. You better stay away.”

I narrow my gaze at Gus. He almost sounds… serious. Why is he acting like this? Does it have something to do with Ben? I force Gus to look me in the eye. “Why do you say that? Is there something about him you’re not telling me?”

He smiles serenely, an innocent look on his face. “No. Nothing comes to mind. Like I said, I haven’t heard his name in years.”

I shake my finger. “You promised to never sugar-coat anything and to always tell me the truth.”

“In general, that is true. But keep in mind: it’s impossible to keep every promise you make.”

“Seriously, Gus, I trust you. Is there a real reason you don’t want me to be friends with Franco?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t have any actual objections.

“Not really.” He sighs. “I think he’s too old for you. And maybe… too associated with the past. You need to move into the future, not dwell any more on what might have been.”

“I agree about the future. And, as far as age goes, my mom thinks you’re too old to be my friend, too.”

“Ha!” Gus laughs. “Good thing for me that you never listen to your mother. But, truth be told, if you were my daughter I’d probably say the same thing.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not dwelling on the past. But I can’t talk to mom about the accident. Whenever I try she goes dark for days. I hate doing that to her. So it’s nice to finally have someone to talk to whose life was turned upside down that day, too.”

Gus turns away from me. “Believe me, Silvia, you weren’t the only one whose life changed that day.”

fter work, I hurry to the gym to meet Liam for another run. I’m breathless with the possibility that Franco might be hanging out with him. I take the gym stairs two at a time, scan my card, and rush inside. Right away, I spot Liam loitering near the front doors, surrounded by pony-tailed girls and no Franco in sight. I sigh and swing my gym bag to my other shoulder.