A MONTH EARLIER

  Being shaken awake was always startling. Doubly so when I lived alone.

  Typically, I greeted intruders with the Staccato under my pillow, but Evo had done a number on my arm. In fact, after ejecting Elise and assigning my team, I needed Angela to drive me home.

  "I'm up," I protested tiredly, rubbing crust from my eyes. I also rolled away from my gun, as such an upstanding burglar was, at the very least, owed a conversation.

  When my vision cleared, however, I found my mother's disapproving blue eyes. They glowed in the dark and would periodically flash red with energy.

  "Oh, for fuck's sake. Now?" I slid gingerly to the edge of the bed, drawing bellows of protest from my compromised limb. "I've been home since five, and you chose now?"

  She rolled her eyes. "I'm not here to kill you, idiot. Get up."

  "I'm impressed," I groused, flicking on my lamp to fish a 'SWORD Against Breast Cancer' t-shirt from the dresser. "Unfortunately, you have no case."

  "I know." She crossed her arms. "Somehow, you only inherited my hair and stubbornness."

  This time, I glowered. "I don't have your anything. You made that perfectly clear."

  "Oh, for the love..." She groaned, massaging the bridge of her nose as I dropped into my desk chair. "Why are you such a fucking baby? I go out of my way to help, but of course, the first thing you do is vent childish–"

  "Wait," I interrupted as she sagged into my armchair. "What?"

  "You vent childish–"

  "No, before that."

  "I came to help."

  I cocked my head. "You want to help... me?"

  "No." She shrugged. "But I'll always help Jason."

  "How?"

  Her eyes narrowed. "Let me make something clear. I don't like you. You are an embarrassment, and I often regret giving birth to you. Matthius will always be more important than you. That is an immutable fact."

  I motioned for her to continue.

  "The terrorists came to me with an offer. They appealed to our… difficult relationship, my alleged thirst for power and their parallel ideals of transforming the world into bla, bla, bla."

  Despite my injury, I leaned forward. "Did you accept?"

  "I know this will likely come– wait, what?"

  "What did you tell them?" I pressed, scowling frustratedly.

  Elise looked baffled. "The fuck does it matter? I just told you the terrorist Family people want to enlist... ah." Her jaw flexed. "You wanted this."

  "Not exactly," I assured her. "I didn't think you'd tell me."

  Elise wrinkled her nose with a mixture of confusion and anger. "Are you out of your fucking mind? Why would I ever accept something like that? I get offers like this once a fucking week, Bernard. I'm a goddamn King. I've lost count of how many to-be world conquerors have come begging for my allegiance. These idiots are no different. Do you have any idea how hard I've worked to be where I am today?"

  "Yes," I told her, my own face crinkling towards irritation. "Your father was incredibly thorough."

  That earned me a plasma-infused glower. "Careful."

  "Of what?"

  "You have no idea what he was like."

  "Really?" I retorted, lounging back. "So I don't know about the near-fatal training regimes that dragged you from Bishop to King? Or that the scars on your neck are from burns he would personally inflict to forcefully habituate you to the lack of oxygen when high temperature–"

  I choked off as air evaporated around me.

  "Careful, Bernard. Be very fucking careful."

  I rolled my eyes as the pressure lessened. "If you're here to kill me, kill me."

  That seemed to blunt some of her anger. "Oh, that's enough! Stop saying that! What is wrong with you?" She went back to looking angry. "Why would I do that?"

  "You hate me," I told her, a little confused.

  She paused, pensive. "No, not really. I don't like you, but you're still my kid."

  I stared, now astonished. "You said you wished I wasn't born."

  "Sometimes," she elaborated nonchalantly. "Doesn't mean I hate you."

  My mouth opened, then closed. I opened it again. "How does that work?"

  She took a moment to formulate an explanation. "If you buy shoes that you end up disliking, you kind of wish you never bought them. Doesn't mean you hate them."

  And that, straight from the very mouth of my actual mother, was the sum value of my life.

  Bad shoes.

  The most fascinating and slightly mortifying part was that it made perfect sense.

  "Ah." I scratched my chin. "Well, fuck."

  Now it was her turn to be confused. "You want me to hate you?"

  "You're my mom." I laughed mirthlessly. "I hated myself for not being what you wanted. For years. That's the last thing I want." I grimaced. "Except for literally right now."

  She barked with laughter before spotting my expression. "Bernard, be serious. You have never once given a shit what I think."

  I regarded her curiously. "I'd argue the opposite. And I'd point to the multiple attempts at suicide by Rogue as examples."

  Understandably, she was no longer laughing. "That's not funny, Bernard."

  This time, I was really confused. "Why else would I, as a thirteen-year-old, attack a Knight? For shits and giggles?"

  "I thought you were being stupid!" she snapped, gradually starting to turn horrified. "Trying to get our attention, or prove some kind of point!"

  I snorted. "Elise, come on. What the fuck is a teenage blank going to do against Tremor? Or Nightingale? I was depressed, not stupid. I wanted to go out in a blaze of glory so you guys could spin it as brave and heroic. I stop being a burden, and you get some mileage out of what very clearly was dead weight."

  I had almost never seen my mother at a loss for words. Her face was white as milk, and her eyes, funnily enough, were watering. I scooted closer for a better look.

  "Are you crying?" I was amazed. "Why are you crying?"

  "I made you want to kill yourself?" she whispered. I had never heard my mother use such tonality and hoped never to hear it again.

  "That is an incredibly dramatic conclusion," I scoffed awkwardly. "I've always been a pragmatist. I figured I wasn't doing much good living, so I simply considered the advantages of changing the situation. Obviously, yes, take the teenage, puberty hormones or whatever and the gross misunderstanding of reality every kid has at a young age into account, but generally, I don't think it was only you."

  I was rambling, and with every word, her head sank further into her hands.

  "That is the stupidest, stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard," she snarled, her hair flaring up over the backrest. "You are so fucking stupid."

  I scratched my head. "Wait, but I thought you didn't like me? No, sorry, it was indifference, but I still annoyed you.." I puzzled against her reasoning. "I'm lost. What part of the shoe am I–"

  "No!" she exclaimed, surging hot enough to singe my ceiling. "I said you can not want something without hating it!"

  I cringed and shielded my face. At this rate, she was actually going to kill me. "Okay, okay! But if you don't want me, then why–"

  "Just shut up. Shut up," she wept. "Stop fucking talking."

  I scratched my chin. I had not anticipated this conversation, and I definitely would never have imagined it going this way. I used my good arm to hand her a Kleenex.

  "It's really not that bad," I assured her, starting to feel out of my element. "Look, you have expectations, and I will never reach them. I just thought our family would've benefited from... ohhh. I see."

  I sat there awkwardly as she cried her lungs out. It took five minutes for me to marshal the courage to speak.

  "Let me be clear. You're not your dad. He was worse. A lot worse. You were just exceptionally neglectful, and I made dramatic, borderline delusional decisions in light of that."

  That did not help. I was forced to fetch more tissues.

  "Do whatever you want with Magne," she mumbled after blowing her nose for a fifth time. "I'm done with all this stupid Family fuckery."

  "About that, are you sure? He probably made some excellent points. Maybe you–"

  She glared at me. This time, the red in her eyes had nothing to do with powers.

  "Right."

  Her brows creased. "Why are you so hung up on that?"

  "I need someone on the inside," I replied honestly.

  She frowned. "I thought you weren't expecting me."

  "I wasn't. But over the next few weeks, you would've 'uncovered'," I made quotations, "interesting stories to tell your new friends."

  She soundly won the ensuing staring contest.

  "Which obviously will not happen now."

  "I didn't reject or accept anything. I have until the end of the week to confirm."

  My eyes widened. "Do it."

  "I just said–"

  "These people," I warned her, "are exceptionally powerful. Look at what they did to Jason, Blacklight, and LA. It will take years to fully rebuild. Reactive intelligence will not be sufficient. They will kill us. We need to understand who they are and how they think."

  "I do not give a fuck," she snapped, vaporizing the tissues in her fist. "Find another mole."

  I sighed and turned on the air purifier. "I would, but Gordon isn't heavy enough to feed the kind of intelligence that'll matter without raising suspicion."

  "Gordon?" she repeated. "As in, Reginald Gordon? From the Den?"

  "He disappeared right when the Breakers attacked with astonishingly accurate ambush plans. In fact, their EMP was so precise; it just cooked our grid and left the rest of the state intact."

  "Oh. Hope he enjoys the Chasm."

  "He's not in it." I wagged my finger. "In fact, he's nowhere near it. Just because he's not you doesn't mean I can't use him."

  She blinked. "Oh. I see. Where do I come in?"

  "They want juggernauts, and your resume speaks for itself. Get the trust of the Mother, or at the very least, prove indispensable. Then it's just a matter of coaxing her from her hidey hole."

  "Jason will hate me," she argued. "I can't–"

  "Be hated by anyone who's dead. And he came uncomfortably close. Lights and tunnels close. You want him alive? Kill the cancer before it spreads."

  She stared at me. "He was right, you know."

  "Who?"

  "Magne. You fought, and they threw you under the bus. You saved those two kids, and now Capitol wants to punish you."

  "No shit. It's the government."

  She shook her head. "I never hated you."

  "Great." I clapped and immediately grimaced. My shoulder could not heal fast enough. "That should make things a lot easier."

  THREE AND A HALF WEEKS PRIOR

  Elise picked up on the third ring.

  "Stop playing around," I warned. "When I call, you pick up. End of discussion."

  "How about you check your fucking tone," she snapped, "then try again. Fuck off, Bernard."

  My screen flickered as I tapped through a hidden menu and let the SWORD UI work its magic. I waited for Elise to do the same.

  "Alright, line secured," she confirmed. "I was just about to call."

  Ten yards away, Eye-Lie was sitting in his van, staring at me in confusion. I waved him off. "Good. Report."

  "I'm in," she replied, though without the pride such progress warranted.

  "But?"

  "They want proof of loyalty."

  I nodded. "Figures. Options?"

  "Major structural weaknesses. That or secret identities. Queen plus. They're playing coy, but context screams the Sheath or Blacklight."

  "How much wiggle room?"

  "For?" she asked curiously.

  "Kill a Hero."

  She took her time replying. "No."

  "Eye-Lie's been working a big, bad drug case, and he just gave me a list of implicated Heroes. It is very, very fucking long. We'll start arresting once the Family ordeal blows over, but the worst offenders are fair game in my book. Slick and Bejewelled are in Denver. Isolated. The address will be on your computer."

  "You can't be serious," she exclaimed. "Bernard, they're licensed Heroes. Even you can't erase–"

  "Which is why no one will ever find out. I'm sure the Family has someone to handle the bodies. I'll muck things up enough on my end to get you through scot-free."

  "And he's okay with this?"

  "Eye-Lie? He saw four thousand kids get sold the Juice lie and shoot themselves up with a drug meant for Alphas. He watched children's brains bubble out of eye sockets. He saw hardworking, honest officials be killed indiscriminately for daring to dig.

  "Farmer and Jackson have blood from at least nine bodies on their hands. Hell, they've been blackmailing a teenage fence named Rio to keep their influx regular. His grandfather died last year in a freak car accident. Strangely, though, there were no cars involved. Forensics say the area of impact looked oddly narrow, and the projectile appeared to be moving at almost three hundred miles per hour. Rio must've been terribly distraught since he and his grandparents' one-way tickets to Brazil were mysteriously cancelled three days later."

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  At this point, I was almost frothing with anger. "Eye-Lie is A-O-fucking-kay."

  She sighed. "I see."

  "Make it convincing."

  "I should get hit?" Elise asked, sounding even more tired.

  "No. Make sure they're screaming." I turned back for Eye-Lie's van. "Lose the phone. I'll replace it." I paused. "Take care."

  THREE WEEKS PRIOR

  "Ah, comeuppance," sighed Elise, closing the entrance door behind her. "At least I wasn't in bed. You'd make a lousy ash pile."

  I did not reciprocate her banter. "That was close. Way too close."

  "Matthius is hurt , Bernard. It was one second." She shuddered. "I didn't think he'd..."

  "That one second, Elise, was one Jason, of all fucking people, punished. There are Heroes with predictive, instinctual and actual deductive powers, and he almost made you. Come on."

  She tossed her keys in a basket and crumpled into the living room couch. After his outburst over Matthius' bed, Jason was at one of his cottages, sleeping off the day. And while his son was on the upswing, he needed air.

  Elise seemed to stare through the ceiling. "It's funny. Around the Quadruplets, actual threats, I'm stone cold. But with him, I can't breathe. I fold up like a—"

  "Look," I sighed, "I get it. It's tough and exhausting. Lying to Angela was hell. But we have no choice. People depend on us."

  She kept shuddering. "I think he hates me, Bernard."

  "Then we're fucked, because you are much, much stupider than I thought." I rolled my eyes. "That man would crawl over a field of my corpses to wash the mud off your feet."

  "He's never spoken to me like that," she whispered. "He thinks—"

  "I will deal with the meathead," I assured her. "Your more pressing concerns lay elsewhere."

  Realization registered. She twisted, scanning frantically, as if Magne would lunge out from behind the counter. I, sane, eyed her disapprovingly. "Please. I grew up around Jason and Matthius' ears. I don't get spied on."

  "My house is bugged, then?" she exclaimed, looking terse.

  "Obviously. Calvin planted three, and the Family have two, but theirs are both upstairs." I cocked my head. "Why do you think your TV is on?"

  "Oh." She scratched her head. "How'd you know?"

  "Protocol. And deciding laziness does not suit me."

  "And it'll be enough?"

  "What, the TV? Of course not. They use the good shit. I put a sound block around us. The TV is just so they don't get suspicious."

  "You're very clever." She gave me a funny look.

  I didn't like it. Along with her earlier apology, I was starting to see new, uncomfortable parts of my mother.

  "Job requirement." I lounged back. "Still, the less we meet, the better. Let's be quick."

  She nodded. "I fly out to Indonesia tomorrow. I know nothing else."

  I cocked my head. "That's Kollective turf. Huh. Incursive or reconnaisance?"

  "Worse. Collaborative."

  I nibbled my bottom lip. "That tracks with the Nursery hardware. In fact, I'm fairly certain the weapon I lifted, the one that hurt Matthius, was their handiwork."

  "Really?" she growled.

  "Knock it off," I warned. "It's tremendously powerful. It uses a thermal grid to hold the hard light construct in place. It's funny, the design is reminiscent of the suit I used to fight Evo. Almost like..."

  Our heads snapped erect.

  "Pink designed it," we said in unison.

  My hands clasped over my mouth. "They're taking you to him."

  "Meaning?"

  I looked up. "Meaning what?"

  "What are you thinking?"

  "That sword," I recalled, "cut through Ergo like butter. If Pink is there, they want more. That cannot happen. Not only that, but now that we know their weaknesses, we'll need him."

  "Need? What about the kid? The twinky one? Lucas, was it?"

  Elise clearly remembered his attempts to enlist her in 'designing' anti-Evo tech.

  "He's dirty."

  She stared. "No shit?"

  "None. Sabotaged my suit."

  "You okay?"

  "Of course."

  She arched her brow. "And at what time do you plan on giving a shit?"

  I shrugged. "I suspected. Gordon doesn't have the technical know-how to specialize and proof the Syracuse EMP, and Pink wouldn't have been kidnapped if he was a willing ally."

  "More false intel?"

  "See? You can be clever, too."

  She fixed me with a disapproving frown. "Why did you wear it, then?"

  "His assistant did the final checkup. She's a good egg. Ironed out most of the kinks."

  "Yeah, that sounds suspiciously like luck."

  "You'd be surprised how much of this job is." I clapped definitively. "Alright, try and spring him. Worst comes to worse, hint and improvise. Pink is, unsurprisingly, pretty sharp."

  "I hope you realize how much easier said that is than done."

  "Why do you think I'm giving it to you?" I crossed my arms. "Or, wait, Norway encore? LA, try two?"

  She scowled. "I thought that was bullshit, and you know it. I would've gone if I knew Jason was in genuine danger."

  "Even after my—"

  "Bernard, everyone works for you. I heard a billion different things on the flight to Europe. What's to say you hadn't pulled the same shit and sent us out on another wild goose chase? Plague left long before we stepped foot in that country and you know it."

  I rolled my jaw. "That is true."

  "You punished us."

  "That is also true." I scratched my jaw. "Somewhat. I did need clues."

  "But we're the vindictive and petty ones."

  "You bullied me about my birth for over a decade," I growled. "So yes, you are. I'm entitled to do whatever I want."

  "Like endanger lives?" she rolled her eyes. "You only care about rules when they apply to someone else."

  "Enlighten me."

  "Can't. That was Bejewelled's gig."

  My eyebrow arched. "That's what you're angry about?"

  "I don't lose sleep over blanks," Elise admitted. "That's always been more of Jason's thing." She stared at her table. "I don't like killing my friends, though."

  "Your friends shouldn't be nailing senior citizens with supersonic shoulder-checks. Try a book club." I rose to stand. "Get some rest, and screw your head on straight. I'll straighten your man, but you also need to come through."

  She nodded. I quickly took my leave.

  TWO AND A HALF WEEKS PRIOR

  "Boss!" exclaimed Marty, looking up in shock. "Wasn't expecting you."

  I nodded. "Good. You still aren't. In fact, I'm not here at all."

  His eyes widened. "'Course not." He nodded to a staff door. "Feel free."

  I thanked him and stepped across the St. Louis butcher shop. I was expected at an airfield in less than half an hour. This safe house, though, was a necessary stop. Church had looked confused when I sent him on ahead, but as a veteran of the industry, he didn't bother protesting.

  "I'm not waiting in the fuckin' bird," he warned.

  I promised he wouldn't.

  I nodded to the butchers packaging strung-up beef slabs before walking to a cramped birdcage elevator in the corner of the room. Two minutes later I was in an equally chilly basement, though this one filled with food, cash, supplies, electronics and weapons.

  "Why a butchery?" asked Elise, draped across a folding chair as she browsed a fashion magazine. "It's cliche."

  "It was also not my choice," I explained, "as it predates me."

  She grimaced at the elevator shaft. "It probably predates the entire state."

  "How are you doing?" I asked.

  She sounded confused. "Like, emotionally?"

  "I meant with the Family. But yes, that too."

  She shrugged. "They're going to be pissed about me killing Crackle."

  I choked on my saliva. "What?"

  "She was in bed with the Kollective. Jason killed their princess or something, so their King wanted Nova blood. The crater?" She mimed with her hand.

  "Ah." I leaned against a desk. "Fuck."

  "Not yet," she assured. "I can spin this, but Magne will ride my ass. I'll keep pushing for Lydia, but they won't trust me."

  I shook my head. "That's problematic."

  "Yeah."

  The ensuing silence stretched past a minute before Elise perked up and broke it.

  "I'm surprised." She folded her arms over her chest. "Thought I'd have to find my own flight home."

  I rolled my eyes. "Where? On a kite? Please. Our Semarang agents do almost nothing. Besides, you did good work with Pink. He touched down yesterday. I called. Our man's itching for payback and has already started work on the Talons to get it."

  "He got them?" Her eyebrows rose in surprise, then she made an 'ah' of realization. "The sensor."

  "What?"

  "Nevermind. What's he cooking?"

  "Anti-Triplet threads. All four centre around heat, but carry specific specializations. First two boost force and power, third spikes energy, and the fourth purely enhances."

  She scowled. "Don't. You're no match, even kitted."

  "Better safe than sorry," I replied, rapidly reworking my plots as best I could. "Alright, listen up."

  "Just like that?"

  "I don't have time to be stupid. Jason spends a lot of time these days reviewing information with Blacklight, Dwarf and I. Matthius' bed is down the hall, so eventually, we'll be in the same room. When that happens, he'll want the plan."

  "Says who?" she asked skeptically.

  "Magne got him. Good. You know he hates that shit. He'll want a jump on things, and he hasn't got the slightest idea that you've 'betrayed'," I made quotations, "us. I'll acquiesce."

  She frowned. "Which I pass on?"

  "No, your cred is shot. Crackle was too important. Plus, they'll know it's garbage from Gordon and Lucas, who have the other fake plan. Record me."

  She rubbed her eyes. "There are two fake plans? Actually, never mind. What's the point of mine, then?"

  "You become stranded. Not only did you give them what you believed to be irrefutable evidence, but with your SWORD bridge 'burned', you're all alone. An ally both by choice and obligation."

  "And then?"

  "Amelia is a vindictive bitch. This is personal for her. That's why she killed all those people in LA instead of just raiding the school and capturing Pink. She wants people afraid. To pay for her brother's death. I'm almost certain they'll come for me, but not at the cost of Evo's evolution."

  She nodded. "Right."

  "Tacti will want proof of success. Magne's still steaming after Ergo's death, and he hates you. He'll want you to suffer. Probably kill me. Evo just wants Lydia. They'll all be there, and you need to be, too."

  "How?"

  "Keep fucking with Magne," I suggested after brief contemplation. "He'll never trust you, but the recording stops him from killing you. He'll want you in line and doesn't trust anyone but himself to enforce it. And, of course, the added bonus of hopefully watching me die."

  I noticed her smoking hair. "Problem?"

  "I'm going to kill him."

  "Yes, that's the idea. Keep your hat on. This requires a delicate touch. Be your charming asshole self, and everything will go just fine."

  "I don't want to watch you die," she helpfully added.

  I raised my eyebrow. "Thank you. That makes two of us."

  "You were supposed to be perfect, Bernard." Elise turned to gaze tiredly at a hole in the wall. "Everything was perfect. Jason and I did every conceivable thing to make sure you'd live the best..." She swallowed. "We clawed for everything. You can't imagine what it was like."

  "I'm aware." I watched her flatly, waiting to see where she was going.

  "We didn't know what to do," she whispered so quietly I had to strain. "We trained and prepared, and so when our son came out..."

  "Crippled?"

  "Different," she snapped, "we were lost. Life outside… this wasn't even something that'd occurred to us." She looked at me. "We thought we did something wrong."

  I didn't like the feeling in my chest. "Why are you telling me this?"

  "Ergo died. And instead of holding a funeral or some kind of memorial, Norton just ordered me to go to a meeting."

  She paused to collect her thoughts. I waited.

  "She hasn't even mentioned him by name. Just, 'there's been a setback. You'll be picked up'." Elise rapped the table. "They're pawns. In her game. She uses her children as weapons and doesn't blink when they're destroyed." She shook her head. "I can't be that."

  "You aren't. You drop everything when Matthius gets so much as a paper cut."

  She looked up, exasperated. "I'd do the same for you."

  "No, you wouldn't," I snorted. "But that's a lovely thought."

  She faced me. "November seventh, twenty-eighteen."

  I looked at her, then spent a minute remembering how to move my tongue. "What?"

  "I even know the truck model. You were a university student. Your insurance wouldn't have survived." She glowered. "And someone had to bury that fucker."

  I shoved off the table. "I got here myself. You knowing changes nothing."

  "I never said otherwise." Elise sighed, watching me warily. "I love Matthius. I have to. He'll carry the torch when Jason and I are gone. He's more important than any of us. Especially you."

  I didn't respond. I couldn't. Assuming you were an unwanted child was one thing, but hearing it just had a way of hitting where it hurt.

  "That's why it enrages me when you fuck with us, because you don't understand the pressure we're under." She hesitated. "At least, you didn't. And you have no idea what Jason and I have suffered. But... you're still my kid. Blank or not. Which means if anything ever happened to you, I wouldn't set up a fucking meeting."

  "No, you'd just ignore me for ten years," I replied, grinding my fists into my temples to avoid smashing them into something harder than was wise. "Good to know."

  "What do you want me to say, Bernard? You left. And made it clear it was final. I–"

  "I WAS FIFTEEN!" I screamed. "I WAS FIFTEEN FUCKING YEARS OLD! I COULDN'T FUCKING DRIVE!"

  And just like that, my meticulous, impenetrable mental defences went up in smoke.

  Elise met my despairing eyes helplessly. The answer we both knew I wanted just didn't exist.

  "We didn't know what to do," she told me sadly.

  "You could've just let me be… me!" Twenty-plus years of pent-up frustration came gushing out. "I wasn't going to replace Matthius. He's my brother, Mom! Everything I did was to make him happy! Why did it fucking matter? You had the perfect one! You didn't need me to..." I pressed my fists into the table. "Fuck!"

  "I am sorry, Bernard." She placed her hand on my shoulder. "You didn't deserve–"

  I turned on her. "It has nothing to do with deserving! You had him! You had what you wanted! I was good! I listened and I helped and I did what I was supposed to! I helped him, Mom. I always fucking… I just don't understand why you needed me to be like–"

  I could not remember the last time I'd been hugged by my mother. That, or had tears on my face. It was all so foreign that I just froze. She smelled like candles and firewood. She patted my back softly and ran her fingers through my hair. Her strength was the only thing keeping me upright.

  "I'll be at the Vault," she promised, stepping back with her hands on my shoulders. After momentary reflection, she added, "I can't be what you want. None of us can. But we are sorry."

  Then, with a final, concerned look, she left me standing shellshocked in the basement of the old, frigid butchery.