Page 58 of The Square

“Us. I guess. Christine gave you the highlights,” I remind her, “so you know that he’s got a vendetta that’s not been settled yet.”

“That’s insane.”

“Yeah. No shit,” I say. “Have you met the van den Bergs?”

“Fair point,” she accedes.

“And now, you’re all implicated in this whole thing,” I finish.

“Fucking hell,” Russell says. “Are you taking the piss? I fuckin’ hope so, mate. Because otherwise this is gonna cost quite a bit more than a quarter million quid, yeah?”

“Danny,” Eliza says, touching my arm gently, “get the fuck out of my house now, please.”

“Fine,” says Alec, stepping between us, “we’ll go. But he’s right. You should protect yourselves. Just, at the least, be cautious for a bit. Until…” He drifts off, his gaze shifting over to Christine.

“Until what?” Eliza asks.

“Until I’ve killed him.”

Christine looks up now, her eyes meeting Alec’s. They hold each other’s stare. There’s a lot—an awful, dreadful lot—for us to unpack. It was already going to be a messy reunion with the way Alec wound up in this state.

Add to that the fact that the whole reason he wound up here at all owes to whatever happened between Christine and Lars—the details of which she still can’t fully recall or just isn’t willing to share—and now it seems that Lars is also still alive and behind Alec being alive.

Add to that the fact that we have included the Watsons into our adventure, and we have a history with them.

Add to that the fact that, apparently, there’s a whole separate history between Eliza, Christine, and Alec that I wasn’t even present for.

And then add to that the fact that this whole history between them that I wasn’t present for appears to have resulted in…

“Hopscotch?” The tiny, curious accent comes from the doorway behind us. It’s tinged with a hint of sleepiness. I turn to see Alexandria standing there, yawning, rubbing her little eye with her little fist. She holds a raggedy, brown teddy bear with part of its ear and one eye missing. Theo goes to her.

“Hey, hey there, pigtails. Whatchou doin’ awake? You’re s’posed to be napping.”

“I heard talking.” She points at me and says, “He’s going to hopscotch with me.”

And there’s something in the way she says it. Something about the clear, decisive nature of it. The unwavering self-certainty that because this is what she expects is going to happen, it is going to happen. The way she points at me. All of it. That reminds me of…

When I look over, Alec has both hands pressed to his shaggy chin in what resembles a small prayer. His mouth is open, and his eyes are drifting back and forth between the tiny one and her mother. Eliza has her hand on her hip and her eyes closed. She sighs.

I look at Christine who doesn’t move, consciously, but who radiates with an energy that causes her to look like she’s vibrating. I know that vibration. Water gathers in her eyes. Not sadness.

Intensity.

Rage.

And when Alec then says, “Right. We need to make sure you’re all protected,” she stands, opens the door, and marches out, slamming it hard behind her.

Yeah… there’s a lot to unpack.