The same familiar rooftops appear between the trees as Rian and I are almost back in the settlement. After spending the night at the abandoned research station and then the long walk back through the wilderness, I expect to feel relief the moment I see the place; however, the closer we get the more my stomach tightens. After all, this is the same place where the people barely tolerated Rian the first time we came through. Now we’re returning to ask these same people to risk everything for us.
Rian walks beside me, his expression guarded. Dust covers his boots, and there’s a tear in his sleeve which I can’t help but notice. I remember him standing between me and the Authority, returning when he could have escaped alone, and agreeing to face his dad again despite knowing what the Director was capable of.
Of course, none of this will matter to the people who see only his last name.
“You’re thinking too loudly,” Rian murmurs.
I glance at him, “I didn’t know that was possible.”
“It is when you start biting your lip like that.”
I relax my face, hoping that I look more composed. “I’m thinking about how we’re going to convince people who barely trust us to help us break into the most heavily guarded facility in the city.”
“Technically, you’ll be doing most of the convincing.”
“Well, that’s reassuring.”
“I’m excellent at supporting you from a reasonable distance.”
That’s actually a little funny and I almost smile. My mood definitely changes once we reach the settlement’s outer path. Marla is near the communal garden, sorting a basket of vegetables while two children carry a smaller basket toward one of the nearby homes. She looks up at the sound of our footsteps, and immediately surprise crosses her face, before it turns quickly to concern.
“You’re back already?” she sets the basket on a wooden bench. “What happened? Did you find your parents?”
I open my mouth, but the words tangle together. How can I explain that Director Vale has somehow gotten ahead of us, that my parents and my friends are prisoners, and that the man hunting me had just invited me to surrender as if he was offering me a seat at dinner?
“He was waiting for us,” Rian says quietly. “At the research station.”
Marla’s expression hardens, “Who?”
“My dad, Director Vale… or, at least a holo message.”
The basket slips slightly in Marla’s hands. Before she could ask another question, a sharp voice cuts across the path.
“Why are they back?”
I turn to find the broad-shouldered, scared faced man who had challenged us when we first arrived. He strides toward us from the settlement square. He had been among the loudest voices demanding that Rian be sent away. It seems that he still holds that opinion.
“I thought we made ourselves clear,” the man shouts. “You were given shelter, and you left. Why have you brought trouble back to our door?”
“Darius…” Marla says, blocking his way.
So, his name is Darius.
Several people stop working. A woman carrying folded laundry pauses beside a clothesline. Two men lower the wooden frame they have been repairing. Within moments, people gather around the path, their curious expressions turning wary as Darius continues.
“Did you lead the Authority here?” he demands. “Did you bring Vale’s soldiers to our doorstep?”
“No,” I say, stepping forward. “We made sure we weren’t followed.”
“And we’re supposed to take your word for it?”
“No,” Rian answers before I say anything else. “You’re supposed to decide whether the information we have is worth hearing.”
Darius swings toward him, “I don’t want to hear anything from you.”
“Then listen to her.”
The simple response seems to unsettle Darius more than an argument. Rian doesn’t raise his voice or attempt to intimidate him. He merely steps aside, leaving me room to speak.
I glare at Rian for a moment before taking a breath and facing the crowd.
“Director Vale has my parents,” I begin. “He also has my friends, Jax and Elara. We found a message he left at the research station. He knows who I am, and he wants me to come to his facility.”
A murmur ripples through the crowd.
“He promised to release them if I pay him a visit,” I say bitterly. “I don’t believe him though. He wants my genetic code. He wants what makes me different, and I think he’ll do whatever he has to do to get it.”
“What makes you so certain?” a woman asks from the front. She has silver threaded through her dark hair and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. “Perhaps he only wants to question you.”
“Because he sent officers after me before he knew whether I was naturally born. My parents spent my entire life hiding what I am, and he didn’t send a message asking for a conversation. He sent a threat disguised as a bargain.”
My fingers curl against my palms. I can still see Director Vale’s composed face on the hologram, his calm assurance that everyone would be released if I came willingly. He sounded almost kind, and that frightens me.
Rian moves beside me, “He won’t stop with Felicity. If he can use her, he’ll keep looking for others like her. If he believes this settlement is a threat to his system, he’ll eventually come here, too.”
“That sounds convenient,” Darius snaps. “The son of the man hunting us tells us we’re in danger unless we help him.”
Rian accepts the accusation without flinching, but the muscles in his jaw tighten.
“I understand why you don’t trust me,” he says. “I’m not asking you to trust my father’s son. I’m asking you to consider what my father has already done.”
“And what exactly do you expect us to do?” a lean man standing near the garden fence asks. “March into a government facility? We have children here. Elders. People who have spent their entire lives staying invisible.”
“We don’t need everyone to go,” I say. “We need help getting inside without being detected. We need information, supplies, and a way to get my family and friends out.”
“And then what?” another man challenges. “You escape, and Vale sends his forces here looking for you. We lose the one place he hasn’t found.”
“He may find it whether we help or not,” Marla says.
The crowd is silent.
She steps forward, wiping her hands on her apron, “We’ve spent years telling ourselves that staying hidden is enough. Sometimes it has kept us alive, but it hasn’t brought back the people taken during the Purge. It hasn’t stopped the government from hunting anyone who threatens its version of the truth.”
Darius shakes his head, “And running at them headfirst will?”
“No,” Marla replies, “but neither will standing here and hoping they never turn their attention toward us.”
The silver-haired woman folds her arms, “Marla, you knew Felicity’s mother. I understand why this is personal for you, but the rest of us have families to protect.”
“So did her mother,” Marla says, her voice softening. “She risked everything because she believed people deserved to know the truth. I won’t pretend I know what she would have wanted now, but I know she wouldn’t have asked us to abandon Felicity simply because helping her is dangerous.”
My throat tightens. I have never met my birth mother, yet every new detail about her made the absence feel sharper.
A younger man near the back speaks up, “What if the information she carries could help us? If the government has been hiding genetic failures, maybe she’s the proof we need.”
“Or maybe she’s exactly what they want us to believe,” Darius counters. “Maybe this is a trap designed to expose anyone who helps her.”
“That’s possible,” Rian says.
Several faces turn toward him.
Keeping his hands at his sides, he continues, “I can’t promise this is safe. I can’t promise my father won’t anticipate our every move, and I won’t pretend I know how to stop him by myself; however, I know what happens when people obey him because they’re afraid of what he might do.”
For a moment, something raw beneath Rian’s composure seeps out. He is not simply defending himself. He is speaking about the life he had grown up in, the questions he had been told not to ask, and the people he had seen behind glass without understanding why they were there.
“I’m going whether anyone helps me or not,” I finally say. “I won’t let Director Vale use my friends and family to control me, but I would rather not walk into his facility blind. I’m asking you to help me give them a chance to come home.”
Silence settles over everyone.
Then, Marla steps to my side, “I’ll help.”
Darius stares at her, “You can’t be serious.”
“I am. I can provide supplies, and I know the old routes beyond the northern ridge. I won’t let Felicity go without doing what I can.”
The lean man by the fence sighs and rubs his face, “I know someone who kept old facility plans. If those records haven’t been destroyed, I might be able to get them.”
“I’ll help with the equipment,” the younger man adds hesitantly. “Nothing that connects to the grid. We can’t risk a signal.”
A woman near the edge of the crowd raises a hand, “I can prepare food and medical supplies. If they’re going in, they’ll need to survive long enough to get back out.”
More people murmur, some agreeing, others shaking their heads. Not everyone changes their minds. Darius remains rigid, and several residents drift away, unwilling to risk their homes.
I understand. She can’t blame them for fearing the same system that has taken my parents.
Marla touches my arm, “Come with us. We’ll talk somewhere private.”
As the small group begins to move toward the cabin, I glance back at the settlement. Some watch us with sympathy, while others look at Rian as if his presence alone might summon Director Vale.
We have help now, but not trust.. not yet, at least.
I follow Marla down the familiar path, knowing that getting inside the facility might be the easiest part of what lay ahead.
The cabin looks much like what I remember: weathered wooden walls, a narrow porch, and a crooked chimney that leans slightly to one side. It sits far enough from the settlement’s busiest paths to offer privacy without feeling completely isolated. When we had first arrived, I thought of it as a temporary refuge. Now, with my parents and friends in Director Vale’s hands, it feels like the last place where I can stop long enough to think.
Marla pushes open the door and ushers everyone inside.
“We’ll need the table,” she says, moving a stack of folded blankets onto a chair. “Someone should check the windows before we start discussing anything sensitive.”
The younger man, Tomas, who has volunteered to help, goes straight to the back window. He examines the latch and peers through a narrow gap in the curtain before nodding, “No one outside. At least, no one I can see.”
It’s only now that I remember meeting him before when Rian and I came to the first meeting place.
“That’s encouraging,” Rian murmurs.
Tomas gives him a brief, humorless smile, “Don’t get used to it.”
I take a seat at the table while Marla lights a small lantern. The cabin smells faintly of woodsmoke and dried herbs. Outside, the settlement continues with its afternoon work, but inside, the air seems to grow heavier with every passing minute.
The lean man introduces himself as Oren. He seems older than Marla by perhaps ten years, with close-cropped hair and a thin scar running from his left temple to his cheek. He sets a battered case on the table and opens it.
“I used to maintain infrastructure records before I came here,” he explains. “Not for the government directly. I worked with contractors who supplied equipment to several Authority facilities. The main complex where Kane operates was one of our projects.”
He removes several folded sheets and spreads them across the table.
I lean forward.
The blueprints show a sprawling facility surrounded by security barriers, vehicle checkpoints, and a series of interconnected buildings. A central structure dominates the layout, with smaller buildings branching off from it. The labels are faded, and some sections have been marked over in different ink.
“This is the facility?” I ask.
“The original design,” Oren says. “At least, the version I received. The government has probably changed things since then.”
“How long ago?” Rian asks.
“I worked there over ten years ago, but I still have some connections. One of them sent me these blueprints about six years ago.”
Rian’s expression tightens, “Then the security systems could be completely different.”
“They could be,” Oren agrees. “I’m not going to pretend these plans are perfect. The outer walls and main structures should still be accurate. The internal checkpoints, access codes, and security arrangements may not be.”
I study the map. Six years might as well have been a lifetime in a place that depended on surveillance technology. Still, it’s more information than we had an hour ago.
“Can we get in through the service entrance?” I ask, pointing to a narrow access road on the eastern side.
“Possibly. It was intended for deliveries and maintenance crews. There’s a loading bay here, and a secondary corridor leading into the utility wing,” Oren traces the route with one finger. “However, that doesn’t mean it’s unguarded now.”
“Nothing is unguarded,” Tomas says, returning from the window. He pulls a chair close to the table. “If Vale wants Felicity inside, he may make the obvious route look safe. We can’t assume the least guarded entrance is the best one.”
Rian nods, “My father knows how people think. He’ll expect us to look for weaknesses.”
“And you know how he thinks?” Darius’s voice comes from the doorway.
I turn sharply. The man has followed us after all. He remains outside, one hand gripping the doorframe, his expression unreadable.
Rian rises from his chair, “Better than I wish I did.”
“Then, tell us what he’ll expect.”
“I can tell you what he taught me to expect,” Rian replies. “He’ll assume anyone coming for Felicity will prioritize reaching her quickly. He’ll use that against them. If he has her parents and friends separated, he may count on her choosing the first person she can reach instead of looking at the whole situation.”
I feel the truth of that settle uncomfortably inside me. I've been so focused on getting everyone out that I've barely considered what might happen after I reach them.
“What would you do?” Oren asks.
Rian looks down at the blueprints, “I’d avoid making the rescue dependent on one entrance or one route. We need to know where they’re holding everyone, whether the facility has an internal transport system, and what happens if the alarms go off.”
“That information isn’t on these plans,” Oren says.
“Then we find it somewhere else,” Rian replies. “Old records, maintenance schedules, anything that tells us how the building operates.”
I watch him carefully. There is a steadiness in his voice I haven't heard when we first entered the settlement. He’s no longer merely the boy trying to convince people that he isn't his father. He is using what he knows to help them, even though every detail brought him closer to the world he wants to leave behind.
Marla places a small notebook beside the blueprints, “Before anyone goes near that facility, we need to make sure you have enough to survive if things go wrong.”
She opens a cupboard and begins listing supplies. Food that would keep without refrigeration. Water containers. A compact first-aid kit. Spare clothing and sturdy gloves. She asks Tomas to gather tools that would be useful without requiring an electronic connection, while Oren makes notes beside the map.
“We can also provide a hand-cranked light,” Tomas says. “It won’t give you much illumination, but it won’t broadcast your location.”
“And a signal blocker?” Rian asks.
Tomas shook his head, “Not one powerful enough to hide you from the facility’s scanners. I can give you a small device that disrupts ordinary tracking signals for a short time, but if they use advanced equipment, it may not work.”
“Better than nothing,” I say.
“Better than believing it makes you invisible,” Tomas warns.
I nod. I had already learned how dangerous false confidence could be. My fake marker had protected me for years, until a scanner finally exposed the truth. Every tool had a limit, and every plan needed room for failure.
Oren taps a section of the blueprint near the utility wing, “There may be another option. The old maintenance corridor connected to a drainage channel beyond the eastern wall. If it still exists, it could give you a way inside without approaching the main checkpoint.”
“Could?” I repeat.
“The channel might have been sealed. It could be monitored, but it might not even connect to the same part of the building anymore,” he meets my gaze. “I’m offering a possibility, not a promise.”
“That’s enough to start with,” I say.
We spend the next hour comparing the old plans with what Rian remembers from his childhood visits to government facilities. He can't confirm the exact layout of Director Vale's complex, but he recognizes the general design philosophy: restricted areas nest inside broader security zones, with the most sensitive rooms kept far from public entrances.
Whenever Rian describes a feature, his attention briefly drifts, as though the memory carries something he doesn't want to revisit. I want to ask what he's remembering from when he was younger. Instead, I keep my questions focused on the plan.
We can't afford to unravel each other now.
Eventually, Oren rolls the blueprints carefully and ties them with a length of string. Tomas places the supplies into two compact packs, keeping the heavier equipment separate so Rian and I could decide how to distribute the weight. Marla adds food wrapped in cloth and presses two filled water containers into my hands.
“Don't mistake courage for refusing help,” Marla tells me. “If you need to turn back, you turn back. The goal is to bring everyone home, not to prove you can endure anything.”
I swallow around the ache in my throat, “I won't forget that.”
As the others begin gathering the remaining supplies, Darius steps fully into the cabin. His gaze settles on Rian.
“Walk with me a moment.”
Rian glances at me. I give him a small nod, though concern tugs at me. He follows Darius onto the porch, where the afternoon light stretches across the settlement's rooftops.
I remain near the open doorway, close enough to hear without deliberately listening.
Darius folds his arms, “I still don't trust you.”
“I know.”
“Your father took people from us. Some never came back. Others came back changed, and some didn't live long enough to tell us what happened,” Darius's voice is quieter now, stripped of the anger he'd displayed in the square. “When I look at you, I see the man who caused it all.”
Rian lowers his eyes for a moment, “Sometimes I see him when I look in a mirror.”
Darius seems unprepared for the answer.
“But, I didn't choose what he did,” Rian continues. “I can only choose what I do now. I'm not asking you to forget who my father is. I'm asking you to judge me by whether I help stop him.”
Darius studies him in silence, “And if this goes wrong?”
“Then, I won't blame you for trying to protect your people, but I won't use your fear as an excuse to do nothing.”
For a long moment, neither speaks. Then, Darius extends his hand.
“I'll help because I believe Felicity deserves a chance to bring her family home,” he says. “Not because you're Kane Vale's son, and not because you've convinced me you're different. You'll have to prove that yourself.”
Rian looks at the offered hand before taking it.
“That's fair.”
Their handshake is brief, firm, and without any easy promise of friendship. Yet, when they separate, something in Darius's expression has changed. The suspicion remains, but it no longer seemed absolute.
I watch from the doorway, a quiet warmth spreads through my chest. Rian has not argued that his intentions should erase his father's crimes. He has accepted that trust would have to be earned, one decision at a time.
She understands that better than anyone.
Her parents have loved her, protected her, and lied to her. Jax had helped her, while keeping his own secrets. Rian risks himself for me, yet I still don't know everything about his past. None of them fit neatly into the categories I used to rely on.
Maybe people can't be judged by a single truth about them. Maybe what matters is what they chose to do when the truth finally stands in front of them.
Rian returns to the cabin, and his eyes meet mine. He doesn't ask what I heard. I don't ask what Darius said. I simply step closer and squeeze his hand.
Beyond the cabin, the settlement is divided. Some are helping us, while others remain behind, hoping secrecy will keep their families safe. The blueprints are outdated, the equipment imperfect, and Director Vale has already demonstrated that he can anticipate our movements.
I look down at the map spread across the table. There's no guarantee that my plan will work. I have no way of knowing whether my parents are safe, whether Jax and Elara are still together, or whether Director Vale intends to keep his word for even a moment.
However, I am no longer facing the danger alone. For now, that will have to be enough.
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