Summary: The five endings Ally never wrote and would have never been published anyway.
Five
I.
At a small bar in a Mexican town that may not even exist on a map, Catherine waits. Her drink sits, untouched, on the table in front of her.
She is joined, eventually, by a man who she, perhaps, had once known. There are no greetings or small talk. Rather, they meet in silence.
"You're running out of hiding spaces." He tells her finally as he drains her drink in a single gulp.
She smiles, knowingly, "But you haven't come to bring me in."
He inclines his head, drops his glass back on the table with a thud, "Haven't I?"
The conversation ends. Perhaps they'll sit there forever, or at least until they come to drag her away. Perhaps they'll play their game a little more. She could run in one way, him in another, and wait to see who is the first to chase the other.
But she is tired, and he must be too, so she'll sit across from him and not speak a word. When the cavalry comes, maybe she'll finally resolve things between them, give thanks to him for protecting her son, and ask for her heart back. With any brains, he'll give it up.
II.
He determines that there are people who become spies, like him, and those born to be spies, like her.
If she truly has tracked down more of the Circle's members than him, it's only because she has emotional motives. If he gives her the entirety of the credit, it's only because he pities her. And if she's more talented than he is, then it's only because he lets her be, for the moment.
She grins when they're given their final target, "A day." She tells him, gloating. "I'll give you a day's head start, Townsend."
He rolls his eyes. "Not even a week, Abigail?"
She gives him a brilliant smile that his eyes have never seen. Eventually, she remembers that it's him, and the smile fades away, "Cameron."
A few minutes later she twirls happily in the middle of the sidewalk, and he watches as she almost hits five different people but somehow manages to avoid them all.
"What next?" He'll maybe ask, if he can summon enough courage.
He'll tug on her arm, pull him to her, and repeat the question. She'll move from his grasp, "We find her. Catherine."
"After that?" He'll choke on the words.
She'll run her hand through her hair and gaze up at him quizzically, "Everything will return to normal."
"Normal?"
Perhaps, she'll raise a brow and finally understand his meaning. "Normal," she'll pause a long moment before adding, "Or you can take me out for coffee."
"I don't drink coffee."
She'll grin, "Then we'll improvise."
Maybe then she'll straighten his tie; maybe he'll let her.
Perhaps, they'll go out for coffee, if they can catch Catherine. Or they'll be assigned another target, and she'll give him a day or, if she's feeling generous, a week.
III.
Her daughter graduates.
She calls out her name and watches as she walks across the stage, takes her diploma. She returns to her office during the following dinner.
She walks around the office that has been her home for the past several years of her life. She doesn't cry, doesn't lament over the hand she's been dealt.
She thinks over the places that she has seen, better than all of the places that one can dream. She's seen the seven wonders of the world and made her own, better list.
Perhaps, she'll decide it's time for another trip. Or maybe she'll decide that she's satisfied where she is, comforted by a family made up of sisters and daughters. Maybe, eventually, she'll find another to share her life.
But if she doesn't, if she's destined to be alone until this life is over, she thinks that she'll be happy anyway.
IV.
Preston Winters, despite past descriptions, is not a selfish man.
He is in love with Macey McHenry, has been since they were playmates and their mothers gossiped over a "smart match."
He has watched her transform throughout the years from a tomboy, to the girly girl, the bad girl, the good girl, and, finally, into a beautiful, independent woman.
He knows that he could be with her, forever live his happy ending, and make her happy too.
However, Preston Winters is not a selfish man, which is why he'll give her one last kiss and disappear from her life. He won't cage her, won't keep her by his side, and watch as their beautiful, happy life together turns into a loveless, unhappy one like his parents and hers.
Macey McHenry deserves to be free and so he'll go his own way and give her what she needs, ignoring what she might want now.
Because Preston Winters isn't stupid either.
Perhaps, he'll work on his own self, and maybe, one day in the future, once she has fully experienced her freedom, he'll look her up. But a bird doesn't even stop flying once it spreads its wings, so maybe he won't.
V.
When everything is over, they realize their differences and go their separate ways.
Years later, a bullet slashes through the air and hits its target. The target drops to the ground, and there is the sound of a thud, of skin slapping against concrete, then nothing. Silence.
She pulls a lever, and darkness invades the office building. She moves silently across the floor. She searches her target's body, finds the flash drive in his pocket, and begins to stand, only to freeze a moment later, at the feeling of a gun's barrel at the back of her head.
The gun is cocked, and a voice whispers in her ear, "Who are you?"
She is roughly turned around. She winces as a flashlight is shined in her eyes. Before her eyes adjust, she can hear a gasp. She blinks and sees the gun moving away from her.
"Cammie?" The man in front of her asks. Zach.
"Zach."
To her eyes, he is almost unrecognizable. She takes the flashlight from him and turns it on his face. He blinks rapidly.
"Zach," she says again.
Given a second chance, maybe they'll take advantage of it. Maybe they'll see the world together until they run out of space and time. Perhaps, they'll be given their happily ever after.
Or perhaps, that's what they've been living all along.