Urban God of Rebate: Infinite Returns Of Women And Powers

He looked at her.

”Come down tonight,” she said. ”I’m not cooking because you need actual rest, not a dinner. Just come down and sleep properly.”

”Okay,” he said.

”Okay,” said Makima.

He went back upstairs.

He texted James. Clear day today. Take the afternoon off.

James replied: Thank you sir. I’ll be available if needed.

He texted Olivia. How’s the week.

She replied four minutes later. Insane. Kwon has us running a new formation set. I think he’s drunk on the label deal. Also Yuna has started a fan account for you which I only found out about yesterday and I have Thoughts.

A fan account, Sean typed.

She calls it seanmillerappreciation and it has forty followers, said Olivia. All from within the agency. I’m one of them. I’m not proud.

You follow your own boyfriend’s fan account, said Sean.

It has very good content, said Olivia. She found a photo from the showcase that I didn’t even know existed. You looked extremely good in that suit.

Vanessa made the suit, said Sean.

I know, said Olivia. I’m crediting her appropriately in my head. A pause. Are you okay? You sound quieter than usual over text which is a thing I’ve learned to read.

Something is finishing, said Sean. In a good way.

The thing from the last few weeks, said Olivia. The thing you said you’d tell me about on the regular evening.

Yes, said Sean. Soon.

I’m holding you to the regular evening, said Olivia. I’ve decided what I want to do.

What, said Sean.

Not telling you, said Olivia. It’s a surprise. You’ll like it. Probably. It involves a very ordinary location and no chandeliers.

I’ll be there, said Sean.

Good, said Olivia. Go rest. You’re exhausted even over text.

He put his phone down.

He lay down on his bed and looked at the ceiling and thought about forty-eight hours and four cities and twelve names and a federal contact who had been building toward this for two years without the piece that connected everything.

He fell asleep before he’d finished the thought.

—---

He woke at three in the afternoon.

His phone had two texts waiting.

The first was from Reyes.

Warrants signed. Team briefed across all four jurisdictions. We move Sunday morning, six AM local time in each city simultaneously. The houses first. Mr. Miller, thank you for what you built.

The second was from Mia, sent an hour ago.

Soo-Jin messaged me through the group chat again. She said she had a good week. She said the test went well. She said she’s looking forward to the weekend. A pause in the message thread. She never says she’s looking forward to anything. She knows something real is coming. She’s holding on.

Sean read both messages sitting on the edge of his bed with the afternoon light coming through the window.

Forty hours.

He texted Reyes back. Thank you for moving quickly.

He texted Mia. Tell her to keep holding. It’s almost done.

Then he sat for a moment with the quiet of the apartment around him and thought about all the specific things that had happened since a girl ran in front of a car on a Sunday afternoon and James had stopped well short and Sean had gotten out and read the scene in two seconds and made a decision.

He thought about Hargreave and Associates and forty years of careful invisible architecture finally having enough connected to it that it couldn’t stand.

He thought about Makima’s soup the night before and Amara’s seventeen pages and Mia’s notebook and a seventeen year old who had gotten a message in her school email on a Wednesday and had said she was looking forward to the weekend.

His balance sat at $24,417,299.

He looked at it briefly and put his phone in his pocket.

He went downstairs.

—------------------

Makima opened the door before he knocked.

”You slept,” she said, looking at his face.

”Three hours,” said Sean.

”Good.” She stepped back. ”Come in.”

The apartment had the particular quality of a Friday late afternoon, the light coming through the windows at the angle that made everything look considered. She hadn’t cooked, as promised, but there was tea on the table and something from the bakery two streets over that she’d clearly picked up at some point during the day.

He sat down.

She sat across from him and poured the tea without asking and pushed the bakery bag toward him and looked at him with the full attention she gave things that mattered.

”Tell me where it is,” she said.

”Sunday morning,” he said. ”Six AM. All four cities at the same time. The houses first.”

She absorbed that. ”Two more days.”

”Two more days,” said Sean.

She wrapped both hands around her cup. ”And Mia.”

”At the hotel,” said Sean. ”She’s been writing everything down since Monday. The federal contact may need her direct testimony when it’s over.”

Makima looked at her tea. ”She’s been alone in that hotel room since Sunday.”

”She’s managing,” said Sean.

”I know she’s managing,” said Makima. ”That’s not the same as being okay.”

Sean looked at her.

She was right and he knew she was right and the fact that he hadn’t thought of it the way she’d framed it said something about where his head had been all week.

”What are you thinking,” he said.

”I’m thinking,” said Makima carefully, ”that she spent two months carrying something enormous alone. And now the thing she was carrying is almost resolved and she’s still alone in a hotel room while it resolves without her.” She paused. ”That’s a hard place to be.”

Sean picked up his phone.

Mia. Are you in the hotel tonight.

The response came back in a minute. Yes. Where else would I be.

He looked at Makima.

”Can she come here,” he said.

Makima looked at him for a moment. Then she stood up. ”I’ll make more tea.”

—--------------------

James had arrived with Mia to his apartment.

She came through the lobby door

She looked at the building. Then at Sean.

”You live here,” she said.