Page 202 of Johnny

“I’ve got one more little secret to spill if you want it. And it’s about your mother, Johnny Boston.

Do you want to know my secret?”

If I wasn’t who I am. If I didn’t already know how to make folders in my brain to save myself from

the insanity, I would not be able to say yes to her question.

But I am who I am. And I make that folder real quick. Stick a fucking label on it that says ‘Creepy

Girl’ and nod my head. “Yes.”

“I’ll tell you. But you need to let me go and forget you ever saw me. If anyone ever comes asking

about me? You don’t know me. Understand? That’s the deal.”

“Done,” I say without emotion.

“Your mother’s not dead. She’s part of the Company now. But trust me on this, OK? You don’t

wanna know your mother. Don’t go looking for her again.”

My mouth actually falls open.

“You want answers? There are your answers. You said you knew about the rat. Megan’s longevity

treatment is already being applied to babies. I missed it, unfortunately. But Maisy didn’t. She’s the

new rat, Johnny Boston. They will never give her up. Just let it go. Let it all go.”

I don’t know how many minutes I stand there trying to process this girl and her revelations, but it’s many. So many the little girl crawls over the bed to her plate of food and she’s happily chewing her

sandwich by the time I snap out of it.

“Do they know you’re telling me this shit?”

“I don’t really work for them,” she says, still chewing her bite of sandwich. “I work for my team.

They’re the only ones I care about. I do these jobs because they tell me to. That’s all.”

“Who is on your team?”

She just laughs and some of her sandwich flies out of her mouth. She covers her mouth, chews

thoroughly. Bobbing her head back and forth in one of those I’m-chewing-here-be-with-you-in-a-sec

motions. Finally, she’s done. “Listen to me. You don’t want that information. They’ll just kill you if I

tell you their names.”

“How deep does this go?” I whisper. Because I’m getting a very bad feeling in my gut. A hopeless

feeling. Remember the downside of hope? It’s fragile. One little thing can shatter it. And I feel it

breaking in billions of pieces right now.

“Deep,” the girl says.

“But you said you don’t work for them. How did you manage that?”