“Yes,” I said.
Ezra’s eyes locked onto mine again, and this time I saw the calculation clearly. He was choosing. Not Caleb with his calm voice and promises, but me. The part of the equation that ended things. That preference registered as an advantage—clarity over comfort, outcome over reassurance—and I foundthat I preferred it too. He wasn’t afraid in the way adults are afraid of me. He was evaluating what I could do if I wanted to.
Caleb exhaled slowly, then crouched back down to be level with them, tablet already in his hand. He didn’t debate morality or correct Ezra’s language. He shifted the conversation.
“Tell me everything you know about where you’re from,” he said quietly.
The change in Ezra was immediate. His shoulders squared, but his attention snapped to Caleb. The anger was redirected into purpose.
“Uncle Michael is… he’s… It’s a big place, with fences, and a place underground, and a church, and they hurt kids.” Ezra began.
Caleb’s fingers moved quickly across the screen, not random notes but structured input, categorizing, building a map in real time. His focus narrowed, tension transforming into precision.
“Michael?”
“He’s in charge.”
“And he’s your uncle?”
“I think so,” Ezra murmured. “When dad sold us, he said Michael was our uncle, and we’d be safe, but?—”
“Don’t tell!” Seth yelled.
Ezra tugged him close. “It’s okay, Seth, they gotta know.”
Caleb was pale. A father selling his children to a supposed uncle? How much was a child’s life worth?
“How old are your brother and sister?” Caleb asked after a moment.
“Noah’s the biggest, an’ he’s fourteen, same as our sister, they’re twins,” Ezra said. “Noah’s got a gun now. But he wouldn’t shoot anyone, so you can’t kill him.” He was checking in with me at this point.
In whatever place this was—a cult or maybe a survivalist compound?—fourteen was clearly old enough to become a guardin their eyes. If Noah was carrying for them, patrolling for them, standing watch for them, then the line between victim and enforcer was already blurring. If he raised that weapon, Caleb would hesitate. I wouldn’t. Hesitation near Caleb is a liability, and I don’t allow liabilities to stand between Caleb and a live threat.
“You might have to accept your brother dies too,” I said.
“Jesus, Novak!” Caleb glared at me.
“What?” I asked. “The kid has to know this.” I’m sure Caleb was sending me a million warnings with his dark gaze, but it messes everything up if we’re not real about this. “Kill him or leave him behind if he’s too far gone.”
“Don’t hurt him!” Seth said his voice was thick with sobs. “Noah doesn’t want the gun.” He tugged at his brother’s shirt. “Ezra, tell ‘em.”
“Okay, it’s okay. No one is being left behind.” Caleb lied. How could he know that until I assessed the dangers?
If I agreed to go anywhere near whatever the hell Caleb was planning, of course, although he was already talking as if we were even gonna help. Without tactical forethought. Just because some kids asked us.
“Can you tell me about your sister?” Caleb asked gently.
“Eden,” Ezra said. “They lock the girls away.”
“She’s got a baby inside her,” Seth said.
“Then the girls get taken away,” Ezra added.
I waited for more, but he didn’t seem to have anything else to add.
“Okay, do you know how many grown-ups there are?” Caleb asked.
“I don’t know, lots,” Ezra said.
