If only they knew the truth.
A man next to them leaned over, interrupting her thoughts. “And to think that some people don’t believe there’s another world beyond the portals. Ha.”
After he faced forward again, Asher looked at her quizzically.
She cupped her hand over his ear. “There’s a whole movement of people who say the other world is a figment dreamed up by the nonreligious over here to explain their fixation on the supernatural. They’re conspiracy theorists who believe the government is behind the attacks in order to perpetuate a secular lie to keep people scared.”
“They got a couple of things right,” he growled.
A lump formed in her throat when an older man, who she assumed was Sandy’s father, put his arm protectively around the young woman. After most of the people had filed past to pay their respects, Olivia made her way to the front, planning to make it short and sweet. She hadn’t known Marco for very long, but she wanted Sandy to know she had come.
“I’m so sorry.” She didn’t think she was going to cry, but she felt tears stinging the backs of her eyes anyway. Then the words just gushed out of her. “I wish I could have done something. Anything. If only I hadn’t been locked in the cellar, I might have been able to…help him.”
“Of course there was nothing you could’ve done,” Sandy said. “At least you were downstairs when the blast hit. I only wish Marco had been with you. They told me that he…that it happened instantly. There wouldn’t have been anything you could’ve done anyway.”
Not true. There was plenty that I could’ve done if I’d gotten out in time. He didn’t have to die.
A spark of indignation flared in her gut. Maybe she couldn’t expose the truth. That would be too dangerous. But she could damn well help those the army chose to hurt. A vigilante healer. She pictured herself continuing her self-defense training and learning the skills necessary to stay out of the army’s reach. If Asher could do it all these years, then so could she.
“I’m sorry,” Sandy said to her, “but it looks like I’ll be closing the store.”
Olivia wasn’t surprised. “Don’t be sorry. I completely understand. I’d do the same thing, I’m sure.”
“It means you’ll be out of a job, though, and I feel terrible.” Sandy’s black dress had an empire waist, cap sleeves, and decorative stitching around the simple scoop neckline. It was the kind of dress that should’ve been worn to the opera or symphony, not to a husband’s funeral.
The lump in her throat was painful now. Olivia wanted to tell her she’d already found another job, but since this was the first time she’d heard the store wasn’t reopening, she didn’t want Sandy to think she’d gone out instantly after the explosion and looked for work.
She was touched by the woman’s selfless concern at a time when she’d lost so much. “Please don’t worry. I’ll be just fine.”
“Even if everything gets rebuilt, I just can’t bear to keep it open. It was Marco’s dream. I know nothing about wine. God, he loved that place.”
Olivia thought about the time he’d spent polishing that imported wine rack. He’d been so proud of it. “Yeah, he sure did.”
“Oh,” Sandy said, putting a hand up to her forehead. “I almost forgot. Your uncle came by asking about you.”
“My…my uncle?” She didn’t have an uncle.
“He said you hadn’t called in after the explosion and that the family was worried about you. He wanted to know if I knew where you were or where he could find you.”
Oh my God. David? Had he found her? But she’d been so careful. Or maybe the man had stopped at the wrong business, which would be easy to do with all the chaos. Given that all the storefronts on Fifth Avenue had been blown out and most of the signage gone, one business was probably indistinguishable from the next. Maybe he thought he was at the card and souvenir shop next door. Or the map store. Or the quirky place down the street that sold organic hemp-blend fragrances.
“It’s fine,” Olivia said quickly, not wanting to burden Sandy with such a mundane issue. It was the last thing the woman needed to be concerned about. “I talked to my mom and she knows I’m okay.”
She became aware of Asher’s hand on her shoulder. Yes, it was time to go. She didn’t need to monopolize any more of Sandy’s time.
“You’ve got to understand,” the woman said. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I couldn’t remember where you lived even though I handle the books.”