Epilogue: What We're Going to do for the Rest of our Lives

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On a sunny Thursday afternoon, Beatrice picked up a basket of tomatoes she had just picked from her garden, and walked towards her house. There was the sound of waves crashing nearby and the smell of salt in the air.

Charlie met her at the back door, and held it open for her.

"Let me guess— we're eating spaghetti again?" She said, her eyebrows raised.

"You know it." Beatrice said.

"I just figured you would have learned how to make it taste good by now." Charlie teased.

"Listen, don't act up."

"Well, what are you going to do if I act up?" Charlie said.

Beatrice waved her arm, and pulled Charlie back towards her. Charlie gasped, and Beatrice responded by grabbing a fist full of Charlie's hair and yanking her head backwards.

"Ah!"

Charlie's face immediately turned red.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Oh my god, ew." a voice spoke up from the couch. "Can you not?"

Beatrice rolled her eyes and let go of Charlie's hair. Charlie stumbled backwards, flustered and embarrassed.

"You're still here?"

"I sure am, muscle mommy." Harleigh's head popped up from the back of the couch.

Beside a snide comment, she made no effort to help.

"You've been sleeping on our couch for three weeks." Beatrice said. "Do you just live her now, or is there something else I need to know?"

Harleigh hardly looked up.

"I'm just staying here until I can get the Iranian government— and the entire Mars Colony— off of my back."

"Do I even want to know?"

"All I have to say is that, if they don't want their satellites hacked into, they shouldn't make them so easy to hack."

Beatrice started to unpack the tomatoes as she rolled her eyes.

"So you're going to be here forever?"

"Well, I'm sorry I don't know anyone else with a secret lair hidden on an uncharted island." Harleigh said. "But as soon as I meet someone, I'll divide my time between there and here."

"Well, if you're going to just live on my island, I'm going to need you to start doing something useful." Beatrice said.

She started to unload the tomatoes from the basket and into the sink, while Charlie pulled a pot from the shelf.

"She's a pretty good babysitter." Charlie pointed out.

Beatrice wasn't very impressed.

"Only because Alex can't talk yet."

"Beggars can't be choosers."

"I'm not begging you to do anything except leave my island."

Harleigh snorted.

"What are you going to do? Call the police? Or the government that you defected from?"

"I could beat you up and throw you into the ocean?" Beatrice said. "Who's going to arrest me for it?"

"Listen, some of us are actually hiding. What would you get in trouble for if you went back to the mainland? Stealing some equipment four years ago?"

"If it causes you that much anxiety, maybe you should commit lesser crimes?" Beatrice suggested.

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