“Wait—are you—Mara Dyer, are you reading the ending first?”
“I am.”
“You are fascinating.”
“I’m weird,” I say, without looking up. “There’s a difference.”
“Really though, how did I not know this about you? This changes everything.”
I glare at him and snap the book shut.
“Oh, don’t stop on my account.”
“I am. I am stopping on your account.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not.”
“No, I’m not. Besides, we should probably be reading . . .” My neck crunches as Noah leans over to rummage in my bag. He pulls out the SAT book. “This. A Daniel purchase?”
“How’d you ever guess?”
“Here, I’ll quiz you.”
“Noah—”
“No, no, I insist.” He flips through it. “All right, first word: quintessence.”
“I do not want to play this game.”
He ignores me. “Nom de plume.”
“That’s not obscure.”
“And it’s not really a word, is it? More like a phrase. Who wrote this book anyway?”
“Who cares?” I pluck the book from his hands, drop it into my bag, and slip out a notebook instead. And earphones.
“What are you doing?”
I take a deep breath. “I am running away to join the circus. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“The circus would never have you. You’re not flexible enough. We’re going to have to work on that.”
I hit him. Hard.
“Are you going to draw?”
“Nope.”
“Shame. I was going to ask you to do me like one of your French girls.”
“You’re quoting it wrong.”
“Am I?” He pretends to look thoughtful. “Freudian slip, I suppose. So what are you doing?”
“I decided I need a new hobby.”
“Writing?”
“Trying to,” I say, annoyed.
“Your memoir?”
Earlier this week, I’d signed a retainer agreement with Rochelle. She is a criminal defense attorney, I’m a criminal—it’s a perfect match. We thought Jamie would be able to damage-control most of what had happened to us, in terms of exposure, but I actually want to go public. Rochelle warned me against it, as any good lawyer would, citing the lack of evidence, the possibility of countersuits—all solid arguments. But I couldn’t pretend that this last year hadn’t happened. People needed to know about it. I needed to share it.
It was Daniel’s idea to publish our story as fiction that wasn’t really fiction. I swore to Rochelle that I’d change names and redact dates and adopt a pseudonym. She was skeptical, but she knew she couldn’t stop me, so she agreed to help instead.
Daniel thought the whole thing was hilarious. Like a metanarrative! Oh my God that’s priceless. Jamie wasn’t impressed. Noah, as usual, was entertained by the prospect, and even said he’d help.
“Sort of like hiding in plain sight,” he’d said when I’d told him my idea. “I like it.”
“I’ll need your help,” I’d said. “There’s a lot I don’t remember.”
“I’ll fill it in for you.”
“You have to tell the truth, though.”
“When have you ever known me to lie?”
“Are you seriously asking me that question?”
“You’re hurting my feelings. I’ve never been anything less than excruciatingly honest. Painfully reliable. Don’t you trust me?”
“Yes,” I’d said honestly. “I do.”
Now I just have to write the thing. How hard could it be?
Noah winds a strand of my hair around his finger and tugs on it, just as I’m about to put one of my earbuds in.
“No one’s going to believe it, you know.”
I do know, but I don’t care. If we had learned anything concrete by now, we had learned this: we weren’t alone. There are others like us out there. People that think they’re just strange or different or troubled or depressed or sick. They might just be. But they might also be something more. They could become one of us. And they should know it before it’s too late.
“The truth should be told, even if no one believes it,” I say. I tilt my head to look up at Noah. “The people who don’t can love it or hate it or not care and forget they’ve ever read it. But maybe someone like us will read it and they’ll know they’re not alone. Or maybe someone not like us will read it but they’ll believe and be warned about people who are.”
Noah indulges me, as always. “So what kind of story will it be?”
A good question. It isn’t horror, even though parts of it are horrifying. It isn’t science fiction because the science and the story are real.
I look at Noah, grinning at me with my head in his lap, his hands in my hair, and I think about him and Jamie and my brothers and my parents. People who would do anything in their power to help me, even if they didn’t always understand me. People I would do anything for, no matter who I had to hurt or what it would cost. I look back at the blank page, then, and know.
This is a love story. Twisted and messy. Flawed and screwed up. But it’s ours. It’s us. I don’t know how our story will end, but I know how it will start. I pick up my pen and begin to write.
My name is not Mara Dyer, but my lawyer told me I had to choose something.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
IT ISN’T EASY TO THANK every single person who had a hand in helping with the creation and support of one book, let alone three. This trilogy has been five years in the making, and there are more people who have helped me make it than I could possibly name. Also, I probably thanked a lot of them in previous books, so I’m going to keep this one short and semi-sweet.
Thanks are first due to my editor, Christian Trimmer—I feel so lucky to have your brilliant mind on my side, and Mara’s. And to everyone at Simon & Schuster who made this book happen, schedule be damned, I can’t thank you enough.
To my agent, Barry Goldblatt—you helped me choose right when I was tempted to choose wrong. This book is so much better for it, and I am so much happier for it.
My forever-thanks to my family, for their patience with/tolerance of me while this book took shape. It wasn’t easy, I know, but I am so grateful.
There are two people I could not have written this book without, and I know this because I tried. Several times. Without you, Lev, this book would not feel right or true. Because of you, it is both. And without you, Kat, I would still be writing it. Forever. Both of you saved me, again and again. I can’t ever repay you.
And finally, thanks to those who inspired elements of this story. I tried to do you justice. You deserve it.
Michelle Hodkin grew up in Florida, went to college in New York, and studied law in Michigan. She is the author of the Mara Dyer Trilogy, which includes the unbecoming of mara dyer, the evolution of mara dyer, and the retribution of mara dyer. You can visit her online at michellehodkin.com.
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ALSO BY MICHELLE HODKIN
The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer
The Evolution of Mara Dyer
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2014 by Michelle Hodkin
Jacket design by Lucy Ruth Cummins
Jacket photography copyright © 2014 by Heather Landis
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Book design by Lucy Ruth Cummins
The text for this book is set in Caslon.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Hodkin, Michelle.
The retribution of Mara Dyer / Michelle Hodkin.—1st edition.
pages cm
Sequel to: The evolution of Mara Dyer.
Summary: “Loyalties are betrayed, guilt and innocence tangle, and fate and chance collide in this shocking conclusion to Mara Dyer’s story”—Provided by publisher.
ISBN 978-1-4424-8423-8 (hardback)
ISBN 978-1-4424-8425-2 (eBook)
[1. Supernatural—Fiction. 2. Love—Fiction. 3. Murder—Fiction. 4. Psychiatric hospitals—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.H66493Ret 2014
[Fic]—dc23
2014017679
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Mara
Noah
Mara
Noah
Mara
Noah
Mara
Noah
Mara
Noah
Mara
Noah
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About Michelle Hodkin