Page 162 of Antihero

He’d just finished explaining to her how she could repay him. He needed someone to carry on the unbroken tradition and that person would not be Kenzie, whom he’d freed from extortion over the nude selfie she’d sent. Nor would it be Anca, who looked to a higher judgment.

“So just find someone else who needs help?” Blanca said. “Anyone in bad trouble? And give them your number? 1-855-2-NOWHERE?”

“Are you willing to do that?”

She scrunched up her face, lips pooched, brow furrowing. “Hell yeah, I will.”

As she walked, she hugged herself at the stomach. Her sweater was stretched out, billowing low, and she’d tugged the sleeves down over her hands. A pretty girl, still a kid.

For a time, they walked in silence, navigating the flow of pedestrians.

“It was so scary,” she said. “I was so scared.”

“I know,” Evan said.

“That guy? He just didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything.”

Evan said, “I know.”

“I hope he rots in prison.”

“He will,” Evan said.

She nodded and then nodded again, as if reassuring herself. “Well, that’s something.”

“Yes,” Evan said. “It’s something.”

They’d reached the mouth of the subway stop. Blanca hesitated, peering at the stairs falling away into shadow. For a moment, Evan saw it as a gaping maw, vomiting people up from the underworld and sucking them down.

She started to cry.

He stood with his hands loose at his sides, unsure what to do.

“What’s the point?” she said. “The world is so mean. It’s so mean.” She swiped her eyes. She was still crying. “My parents suck, and school sucks, and there’s never enough money, and I haveta take care of my sister, and what’s the point? What’s the point? What am I looking forward to? This?” She waved her hand around, indicating B-Roll, the building, the city. “What am I supposed to do? With people like him out here? What do I do when you’re not around next time?”

“It’s not just me,” Evan said.

“What?”

“There were so many people before you. Who looked out for the next person who needed help. And the next person. And the next. All of them led to you.”

Her lips were trembling, her mascara smeared. “I’m not anything.”

“You’re sharp. And tough.”

“You have to say shit like that. You’re an old-fashioned adult. You don’t know anything. You don’t know what it’s like to be me right now.”

“I have a … niece kind of.”

“A niece kind of. Okay.”

“A bit older than you.”

“Okay. So?”

“You remind me of her.”

“Hope that’s a compliment.”