Mom gives a slight confirming nod. I want to ask what they’ll do with that answer. How far does the program’s reach go now that we’ve turned one of its houses to rubble? But the cramps in my abdomen spike. A hot knife twist that steals my breath. I sway, and Sterling catches me before my kneescan hit the floor. “That’s enough for now.” His voice is ice-cold. “We’re done.”
Mom’s eyes lock onto where his arms wrap around my waist, to the way I let myself lean into him. Satisfaction glimmers there, ugly and bright. “Of course you are; you always did tap out right before the good part.”
I consider lunging at her despite the pain as rage burns through me. To demand every answer that she’s still holding back. But my body is screaming at me to stop.Sterling is right; we can’t give her the show she came for. Not yet.I straighten, using his grip as leverage. “Enjoy the quiet while you have it,” I tell her. “Because next time we come down here, I’m not leaving until I knoweverything.”
“I can’t wait, Sunshine.” The nickname follows us out the door, sticking to my skin like smoke as Sterling hauls the door shut behind us and turns the key.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Evelyn’s words follow us up the stairs.If what you feel is inevitable or engineered.Kiera’s breathing is short and sharp, each inhale a controlled stab. I can feel the tremor in her muscles where my hand wraps around her waist like she’s holding a bomb inside her and refusing to let it go off where anyone can see. The safe house feels smaller than it did when we went downstairs. Same cheap walls, same threadbare couch, same kids lined up like corpses on the bedroom floor, sedatives still dragging their limbs heavily. The ceiling feels lower now, the air thinner.
Cam looks up from his laptop when we step through the doorway. His eyes go straight to Kiera’s face, then to my hand on her, then to the tension in her shoulders. His jaw tightens. “Well?” he asks.
“She knew everything,” Kiera answers before I can. Her voice sounds brittle. “Names. Rooms. The bond reports. She made my life into a fucking science experiment.”
Cam’s gaze flicks to me, asking a silent question. I shake my head once.Not yet. Too many landmines that can go off. “Sit,” he motions to the chair. “You’re pale.”
“For the millionth fucking time, I’m fine,” she snaps. She isn’t. There’s a sheen of sweat on her hairline, and the bruising low on her abdomen has darkened in the thirty minutes we were downstairs. But she crosses to the table anyway, dropping into the chair like she’s taking a throne instead of almost collapsing. I take the one beside her, close enough that our knees brush. If she wants distance, she can move.
“What’d she say?”
“Cicada files are a transfer,” Kiera says. “Of ownership. Wade wanted me to be domesticated before he sold me. The program was supposed to make it easier to hand me off to someone.”
Cam exhales through his teeth. “Who were they going to give you to?”
“Asher was one of them,” she says flatly. “Apparently, I killed a prospective buyer tonight.”
The muscle in my jaw jumps. “Past tense: Asher doesn’t get to own anything now. He’s a memory with a hole through his head.”
Her mouth twitches for less than a second, then stops. “She admitted she was there the whole time,” Kiera continues. “I was one of the originals, so they wanted to see what I was like and keep tabs.”
Cam’s eyes flick to me again. He knows exactly where that’s heading. I cut in before Kiera can keep spiraling down that particular tunnel.
“And tonight was a test,” I add. “Apparently, Cicada benefactors needed a final data point. See if, under pressure, we’d still pick each other.”
The room goes quiet. The only sound is the hum of the generator, and one of the kids is snoring softly behind the half-closed bedroom door. Cam leans back in his chair, staring at the ceiling like it might have the answers written in the water stains. “So they know now,” he says. “Who you are to each other. What you’ll do.”
“They already knew. They just wanted the footage.”
I watch her as she says it. The set of her mouth. The way she presses one hand flat against the table, like she needs something solid to hold onto. She looks like she’s braced for impact.
“What they know doesn’t change what I am,” I say. “Or what I’ll do next.”
She doesn’t look at me, but her fingers curl, a tiny motion. “And what’s that?”
“Find the fucking rest of them,” I say. “Whoever she’s been reporting to. Whoever is still out there with copies of those files and a grudge. Then we decide which order we burn them in.”
Cam turns the laptop toward us. “I’ve got a start.” The screen is filled with lines of code and email headers. “Her login bounces through three different systems before it hits the facility servers. I can try to follow the chain back from the facility to whoever was reading her reports. But I need time…I need her.”
Kiera’s head snaps up. “You’re not talking to her alone.”
“I need her alive. For now. That’s all I’m saying.” Cam says dryly. The last two words hang there.For now.
Kiera’s eyes slide to me. She’s not asking my permission; that’s not who she is. She’s checking if I’m going to try to rein her in. “You’re the one who said we needed corroboration,” I remind her, keeping my tone even. “We temporarily need Reyes and Evelyn to see who’s lying.”
“Reyes first,” Kiera says abruptly. “I’m done listening to Evelyn's version of the truth for tonight.” Kiera flinches at her mom’s name. The more she learns about her mom, the further she distances herself from her, calling her Evelyn more and more.
Pushing up from the table, I ignore the way my shoulder protests. “I’ll wake her.”
