Shallow Imitations

chapter thirty-four

The man we saw on the internet looked old, in his late thirties, his eyes sunken with black bags underneath them. He looked defeated, guilty too. This man sitting in front of me is not man. He's a boy. Just turned twenty years old. He's been in this prison for a year and he was promised more. His hair is dark, almost black, and his eyes are honey-colored. Brett Wilbur looks nothing like I expected. He has this far away look in his eyes, like he's not really here. When the security guard hauled him in, he let them drag him, looking as if he was somewhere else in his head; sitting in a meadow, counting flowers. We managed to get a no-contact phone visit, which means he gets to sit behind a glass in a cubicle.

Brett looks at us for a moment, his gaze lingering on me longer. I let Kal pick up the phone first, Brett following his steps.

"Let me talk to her," he said, his voice soft.

At first Kal looks like he's gonna refuse, but then he hands me the phone, leaning closer so he can listen to Brett's responses.

"My name is Luna, and this is Kal," I start. "We came here because we think you might've sent me a letter." The last part I say as a question. My voice is shaky, but I'm trying to sound as confident as possible. Like I know what I'm doing.

He shows an expression that neither agrees nor disagrees with the statement. Brett stares at me, waiting for further explanation. I decide that I owe him more than that. After all, we came out of nowhere. We don't have any evidence to show that he sent this letter, other than the emails, of course. But they don't like directly to him. This is all nothing but a notion.

"A little over a year ago you were involved in a jewelry store robbery," I say, waiting for him to confirm. When he nods, I continue. "My boyfriend died a year ago, and last week I was sent a strange letter addressed from his mother's house to my apartment. When we went in there, all we found was an email, which we suspect belonged to Atlas. One of the emails was signed with your name."

His face shows no sign of recognition to anything I say. For long, I stare at the orange jumpsuit he's wearing. It's starting to discolor at the hem of his sleeves, turning a muddy brown.

Brett stares at me blankly, giving no attention to Kal. "Why do you think that?"

"We know you sent him those emails with codes, asking him to get of town and then to stop running away," I say, watching Brett the whole time. His eyes are vacant, but I can see now that he's interested. "Is that what he was doing? Letting you guys take the fall?"

The thought never occurred to me until now. He never got caught. This could've upset the rest of the people involved in this scheme.

That's when Kal took the phone from me, because Brett was never gonna answer my questions. This amused him, the way I'm almost begging him to speak. I haven't realized until now that my eyes are burning, beginning to get glossy. I blink repeatedly, not allowing the tears to come. I didn't think Kal noticed until his hand looped around mine under the table.

"Look, we only have thirty minutes. If you're gonna say something, then you better say it now. You obviously sent this letter for a reason."

"I did send the letter," Brett says. "Or at least helped send it. I had a friend of mine plant this information, trying to get to you."

My heart sinks, because this can only mean one thing.

I take the phone from Kal again. I need to make sure it's him. He could be wrong. Maybe Brett made a mistake. "What was his name?"

He looks confused. "Huh?"

"You know him, right? That's what you're saying. So, what was his name?"

He shrugs. "Something Gallagher. He never told us his first name. Said it didn't matter. In fact, the kid barely talked to us." He laughs, saying, "I say 'kid', but I think he was older than me."

Kal turned to me for confirmation. I nod, letting him know that this is his last name (and that he was definitely older than Brett).

Brett sighs, leaning forward, resting his arm on the table. "Here's what I know: they had something against him. Maybe he borrowed some money or something, but they needed their money back. He came up to us out of nowhere," Brett says, his voice whispering and steady. "He planned everything and handed it to us on a silver platter. His only request was that he would drop the gas grenade. Apparently he was scared of getting caught and knew we would be more careful." The last part makes him laugh as almost all of them got caught in the end.

Kal's expression is hard to read. This whole time his grip on my hand only tightens, his body leaning closer to mine so he can hear everything Brett is saying. "So what happened then?" Kal asks.

I'm too stunned by this information to say anything. What could he possibly had done to need to repay them? Why was he involved with these people in the first place? I don't even want to ask who 'they' are? 'They' are bad people and that's all I need to know.

"We got caught. The guy who was supposed to disable the cameras forgot one, apparently. Gallagher had everything mapped out. He visited the store several times and he noted down every single camera that existed," he says, sighing. "I'm surprised they didn't realize he was involved. He must have found a good cover to come back so many times and not be suspected after the robbery."

The only thing I can think of is Atlas going in the store, looking nervous. He looks around the store, analyzing everything, looking down at his phone to take some notes. When the store clerk asks him what he's looking for, Atlas jumps, but then he tells the man that he's looking for something to get his girlfriend. He would be thinking of me, slightly guilty as he slides his phone back in his pocket and addresses the man.

Atlas is indecisive. That's exactly what he tells the store clerk as he decides to come back another time.

I know Brett can see the tears on my face. I don't bother wiping them away because I know I'm not weak. This isn't my fragility surfacing, because I've been trapped in this pain for a year. The pieces have come together.

The guilt is starting to sink in. I've always felt guilty, but I wasn't sure what there was to feel so bad about. Now I know. If only I had talked to him more . . . . Maybe he could've confided in me. I can see the thoughts in his mind, the regret eating away at him. After we make love, he rolls over in the dark apartment making sure I'm asleep. He wants so badly to tell me, but he knows this will only put me in more danger.

I wipe the tears away with me sleeve.

Kal says nothing. He doesn't tell me that we have things to do or rush Brett to continue. He just holds my hand tighter, his thumb grazing my palm so softly that it makes me want to cry more. I lost someone, but here's this other guy helping me as if it's the easiest thing in the world to be so kind to someone so broken like me.

That's when Brett continues. "I saw you once, you know, in a picture he had. When he noticed that I glimpsed at you, he was so mad that I thought he was gonna kill me." Brett laughs. "I wouldn't have done anything, though, because I know what it's like to want to protect someone."