As a warning, this is where things start to get very disturbing. In case you weren’t already there.
Four
A dim light shown through the kitchen window as she unlocked the front door. Behind her, Matthew watched from the car, engine idling, to make sure she got inside okay. Ky chewed on the inside of her lip again as she pushed the door open and slipped inside, closing and locking the door behind her. It wasn’t the kitchen light that was on, but one of the side table lamps in the living room. Reece was curled against the arm of the couch, legs tucked up beneath her, a book open against the throw pillow between her and the couch’s arm.
“You didn’t have to wait up,” Ky said quietly. “Figured you’d be in bed.”
“I wasn’t waiting up,” Reece said. “Just got a little absorbed.” She glanced at her watch and winced. “Though now I see why you thought I was. Everything okay? Matthew doesn’t usually have you out quite this late even when it’s not a school night.”
“No.” Ky shook her head. “Everything’s not okay. I—my world just turned sideways, Reece. I thought—there’s something I thought I knew that I was wrong about. Every decision I’ve made for years has been based on that one thing being true and it’s not.”
Her friend’s brow furrowed, a frown creasing her features. “Ky, you’re not making sense.”
“I know. I never told you guys about it. Not really.”
“About what happened before we met,” Reece said. “Before you started school here.”
“Yeah.”
“I always figured it was just something too traumatic to talk about,” Reece said, leaving her book on the couch and ducking past Ky into the kitchen. She filled the kettle and got down a canister of tea. “I thought if you’d wanted to talk about it, you eventually would.”
“Eventually finally came,” Ky whispered, gaze tracking her. She watched Reece put the kettle on and lay out a bit of sugar, watched her get down two mugs and add a sachet of loose-leaf tea to each. “You’re right, but it’s a lot. I didn’t think it was a burden anyone else needed.”
“Does Matthew know?”
“Most of it,” Ky said. “But that’s complicated.”
Reece leaned a hip against the counter, studying her carefully for a few seconds. Ky almost flinched under the scrutiny, would have if it had been anyone else. Reece had this way of looking at someone, though, looking without seeming like she was judging as she peeled back the layers that most people wrapped themselves in to hide parts of themselves from the rest of the world.
Part of Ky was still afraid what her friend would see, though.
“Okay,” Reece said quietly, still watching her. Ky wet her lips and drifted over to the stairs that wound up toward the second level, where their bedrooms were. She sank down onto the third step, meeting Reece’s gaze across the tile of the kitchen floor and the spate of carpet at the foot of the stairs.
“Matthew didn’t take me in right after my parents died.” The words tumbled out. It wasn’t where she’d intended to start but that was what came out of her anyway. “It was years before I met him. I met his brother first.”
“I—I didn’t realize he had a brother,” Reece whispered. “How did—”
“He doesn’t talk about him,” Ky rushed on. “Because we’re pretty sure he was killed when I escaped where we were, where they were holding us. I went to Matthew because I didn’t have anywhere else to go or anyone else to go to and that was the plan. We escaped and we took what we knew to Matthew—that was the plan. But T.S. didn’t—I got out and he didn’t. So I told Matthew everything. Almost everything.”
“Everything about what?” Reece’s brows knit. “Ky, what are you talking about? You’re not making sense.”
“I know. I know. I’m just—it’s hard to know where to start.” She buried her face in her hands, taking one ragged breath, then another, trying to steady herself as her eyes began to sting. They might be alive. They’re out there. Maybe—maybe I can get them back. Maybe we can save them. “There’s this—there’s this place called the Institute, Reece. They took me from the foster system after my parents died in that accident and they—” she stopped, lifting her head as she drew another ragged breath, met her friend’s wide-eyed gaze. “I can step out of the normal flow of time.”
“What?”
“I have powers,” Ky said. “I can step out of the normal flow of time and move around and do things. I don’t—I’ve only done it a few times since you guys met me. Kind of handy when you’re running late.”
Reece kept staring, blinking rapidly. “Wait. Is that—is that how you’ve somehow beaten us to Commons when I knowyou left after we did?”
Ky nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that is exactly how.”
“I should not believe you,” Reece said, tone matter-of-fact, holding her friend’s gaze even as Ky held hers. “But I also can’t come up with any reason why you’d lie about something like this, either. So—wait. How—why did you mention this after you said some place called the Institute took you out of foster care? How are those two things connected? Are they connected?”
“They wanted me because I could do that,” Ky said. “They—they’ve spent at least a decade, probably a lot longer gathering as many vulnerable kids as they can, kids with different…different powers like mine so they could use them.”
“For what?”
“They…” a tremor shook her and she curled her hands into fists. You can do this. You have to do this. Just breathe. Be strong. “They believe that they needed us to protect them when the end times come because they’re coming soon. Because they were going to make sure they come soon. We were supposed to be shield and their weapon.”
“Kids. Kids with powers. Like…supernatural powers.”
“They called us their Angelic Legion,” Ky whispered. “Their Angels.” She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that welled up. One escaped, tracked down her cheek. A second chased it. “They would do anything to mold us into what they wanted us to be.”
“It sounds like a cult,” Reece said quietly.
“It is,” Ky agreed. “But it’s so much more than that, too.”
“They hurt you,” Reece whispered.
She nodded, unable to speak around the lump forming in her throat. Her fingers curled into fists against her knees. She heard Reece turn off the stove and a moment later her friend was sitting beside her and sliding her arm around her shoulders.
“It’s okay,” Reece whispered. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me more.”
“Yes, I do. Especially if things are about to go the way I think they can.” She swallowed hard and took a deep breath, forcing her voice to steady. She wiped her eyes and cheeks with the heel of her hand. “Matthew and I thought that they were gone after an incident four years ago. It was before I met you and Marie.”
“Before you started school,” Reece said. “Is that where—”
“Yeah, that’s where the scars came from. There was an explosion. I—I wasn’t far enough away. Part of me wished for a long time that I’d been closer. I thought I’d lost everyone else that I’d cared about, that I’d left behind on the inside there—in their hands.”
“The Institute.”
Ky nodded slowly. “I was never alone in there. There were a bunch of us that kept resisting them, not giving in. Matthew’s brother had infiltrated the place to try to get evidence so they could bring it down. They were pretty sure that the Institute was responsible for their parents getting killed. I don’t think they were wrong.”
“Why—” Reece stopped, then started again. “Why hasn’t someone done something?”
“I don’t know,” Ky said. “The theory always was because they managed to hide it so well and probably had some people willing to help cover it up. How else to cults stay under the radar?”
“This doesn’t sound small though. Someone must have noticed.”
“Someone probably did,” Ky admitted. “They either just didn’t care or someone found a way to make sure their mouths stayed shut and the Institute stayed protected.” Sometimes both. She drew another shaking breath, trying to fight down the memory of a look and a dismissal, one that she’d buried long ago so she wouldn’t have to feel the sting of it anymore.
And yet, there it was again and the pain and shock was as sharp as it had been in the moment. She hated it.
“They hide behind the veil and shield of religiosity and good works and because the flavor is palatable to so many, they get away with the shit they’re pulling. With what they’re doing to people who don’t even realize they need to protect themselves until it’s too late. And then what the hell kind of fight could anyone put up, right?”
“I guess,” Reece said faintly, leaning forward, titling her head to try to peer up into Ky’s face. “What happened tonight? A case? A case about—about them?”
“Yeah,” Ky said. “Literally the most important case personally to Matthew that he’s ever opened or worked. Like I said, we thought they were gone and that we were never going to be able to get justice for any of them.” The words stuck in her throat and her heart felt it was beating too fast. Reece threaded her fingers through hers and squeezed, hard. It helped. “But they’re not gone. They’re not dead. When I texted you last night I didn’t know what we were about to walk into and when I—” She stopped, blinking back fresh tears. “When Damon called him at dinner, neither of us had any idea. Damon didn’t even have any idea. But we walked in and all of a sudden it was Ridley there on the couch. It was Ridley.”
“Ridley,” Reece repeated slowly. “Ky, I don’t—I don’t remember you ever mentioning someone named Ridley. But then you never talk about anyone so I—”
“I—I know. I know. That’s part of why this is hard. He was my friend—he was all of our friend—when we were there. When the Institute had us, he was part of this little group of people that figured out all kinds of shit about that place and god the Institute hated us for it. But they never dreamed we’d do a damn thing about it, you know? We were kids. We were stupid kids who thought that we could bring the whole thing down around their ears if we just—if we just got loud enough and resisted hard enough. But it’s never that easy, is it? Of course not. Of course it’s not.
“But T.S.—that’s Matthew’s brother—he always kind of had this plan. He was going to get as much information as he could from the inside and then we’d find a way to get out and get that information to Matthew. We thought—hell. We were so stupid and I know that now. We thought that if we could show people what was going on, if somehow we could show them the truth, they’d care and the whole thing would just come down around the Institute’s ears. He and I tried to escape one night and—”
“It’s okay,” Reece said. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard.”
Ky scrubbed the tears from her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Thanks. I—I made it out. Got to Matthew. For a few years, we worked on his plan for me to go back and get them out. And when I say we worked on the plan it was mostly me working on the plan and him trying to keep me from doing anything incredibly stupid. Then when the moment came, somehow the Institute was ready for us. They knew I was coming and set a trap. After that I—I thought everyone was dead. I thought they were gone and that I’d failed them.”
“But you didn’t,” Reece said, her brow furrowing even deeper. “Because you said that when you got to Damon’s there he was.”
Ky nodded slowly. “Yeah. Ridley. Alive and—and I don’t even know how to describe it. But I’d thought that the Institute was gone and they’d never threaten me or anyone I loved ever again and now I know that’s not true.”
“Because he was there.”
“Because he was there,” Ky confirmed. “We drew it on a map. I need to plug everything into Google Earth to see what I can figure out. Matthew’s freaked. I think he thinks I’m going to go off half-cocked.”
“Are you?” Reece asked.
“No,” Ky said, finally pushing to her feet and heading toward the stove, to the kettle spitting steam. “I intend to go off fully cocked. He knows it, too. He just hasn’t come to terms with it.”
“What, exactly, would he be coming to terms with?”
“That this is our chance,” Ky said, bracing herself against the edge of the cooktop. “We thought we’d lost it but now? We have our chance to find a way to stop them. It’s real this time. And this time? I’m not leaving anyone behind. Not again.”
Not again. Never again.
This time, everyone comes home safe—and we get the chance to have a future without the Institute trying to shape it to their whims.
This time, they don’t get to win.
