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  Kay chuckled showing her red teeth again. “It was so sweet. My associates told me later that Melanie was trying to talk through her gag when they opened the trunk. She wasn’t screaming for her life—they think she was begging for yours. Through her choked, muffled ramblings, the only thing they could make out was your name. That is, until they knelt her and your dad in the shallow graves they’d dug and put bullets in the backs of their heads.”

  She said this as plainly as if she were reading a newspaper. No feeling, no emotion, no sense of compassion. Clara realized now more than ever that this woman, the woman she had known as Aunt Karen her entire life, was a cold blooded killer, a monster with a black heart.

  “We’re everywhere, Clara. You can’t escape us. You have no choice but to come with me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re a vile pig of a woman and you disgust me. Besides, how in the world do you think you’re going to make me? You’re beaten and bloody and tied to a chair in my parents’ cabin.” Clara explained happy to have some form of control in this moment when the world around here was chaos and confusion.

  “I’ve already told you, Clara. We are everywhere. Even if you kill me, someone else will find you. Take you. Keep you locked away. Force you to train. You’re a soldier, Clara, you just don’t know it yet. You were born and bred to fight.”

  Clara shook her head in disgust. She agreed to fight, alright. “The only fight I’ll fight is the one against you and whoever you’re with. I’ll die fighting that fight.”

  “Yes. You will.” Kay responded threateningly, setting an ominous tone. “That’s a promise.”

  With that, the lights went out. For Kay, anyway. Without realizing what she was doing, Clara, who was still within inches of Kay, reeled back and then with full force head-butted her new enemy with a sickening thud. Kay slumped lifelessly in the chair, held up only by the ties that bound her there as a new knot formed on her forehead just above her hairline.

  Clara stumbled backward away from her opponent and fell to the floor with a heaving chest. She wondered what the hell had just happened and what it all meant. But first and foremost, she grieved for her parents. She was too shocked to cry. She was too angry to move. She was too confused to speak. Rage, sorrow, and confusion roiled and seared her stomach. Blood burned in her body, her head was on fire. Around her, the room itself began to shake. Windows rattled, dishes on the table clattered, Kay’s lifeless head bobbed against her chest. Clara felt as if she might explode. A window pane cracked. Dust floated down from the ceiling caking the floor and sticking to Clara’s sweaty head.

  Just as these feeling had become unbearable, the door to the cabin flew open and Lydia scrambled across the shaking floorboards. With only a moment to observe the scene, Lydia threw herself to the floor and flung her arms around Clara. She held her tight, and as her body ceased to shake in Lydia’s arms, the cabin walls returned to normal as well.

  Ollie had burst in behind Lydia and, seeing what had transpired, went not to Clara, but to Kay to double check that she was secure. Whoever had bound her—Clara, he was certain—had done an excellent job. He checked her vitals and when he was certain that she was alive, he set about cleaning the cabin because he didn’t know what else to do. The show of emotion in the floor before him made him uncomfortable, as shows of affection always did. He knew they needed to leave, and fast, but he also knew they needed to leave the cabin as they had found it, so his cleaning distraction was not altogether unnecessary.

  On the hardwood planks of the cabin floor, the gravity of the situation had finally landed square on Clara’s shoulders. “Mom, oh God, Mom. Dad. No!” Clara wept. Lydia, who was no longer “doctor” and instead now was “friend” and the closest thing Clara had to a parent, held her as she sobbed so violently that at the peak of every couple of sobs, her breath hitched for so long that Lydia was worried Clara would never start breathing again, but each time she did. “I had just gotten you back. I had just gotten them back. Why?” She wailed.

  Lydia, who rocked with Clara in her lap and patted her back heavily and with loud thuds, mostly to help Clara remember to breathe, could not even begin to imagine how hard it must be for her in this moment. For months Clara had been told she was someone else, only to find out that she actually had known exactly who she was all along, and then reality slapped her harshly in the face with the knowledge that she, in fact, was someone, something, different entirely. Clara’s life had been a rollercoaster with dips and turns and corkscrews at every angle imaginable. And now, after all of this, after finding out that her real parents were out there, parents she had imagined were endlessly searching for her and helping others like her, she is faced with the fact that they were dead. They were murdered because of her and because of those like her.

  It seemed like hours that Clara lay in Lydia’s lap. Howls turned into moans which gave way to whimpers. Finally, Clara declared, “I can’t do this. I can’t.”

  “Shhh…Clara…it’s okay.”

  Lydia held and rocked Clara until she fell asleep, exhausted from the physical struggle and now from the emotional struggle as well. Together, Lydia and Ollie were able to get Clara into bed. As she closed the door, Lydia noticed that their captive had begun to rouse. Time for answers, Lydia thought as she approached Kay Crider.

  “How did you find us?” Lydia demanded in a soft but harsh tone.

  Kay wheezed a dry laugh and spit blood. “It was too easy,” she whispered. “I had all but forgotten about this place, that is, until my associate, a “Mr. Cromwell,” reminded me.” She raised her head and glared directly into Lydia’s eyes. “It would have been far easier to find you had your little boy toy been able to stick around a bit longer.”

  “My what?”

  “Dylan. Tracking you would have been simple had he worked a little harder at your “relationship”,” Kay snarled.

  “Dylan? What do you mean “Dylan”?”

  “Oh, you didn’t know, did you? The night you first broke up with him, we met him just outside the lobby. Told him we’d pay him a pretty penny if he’d play nice with you for a while longer. He did, but not long enough. Told him where we worked and that we just wanted to make sure you stayed “grounded” so you didn’t make the Bedford mistake again. He didn’t take much convincing. To be honest, I don’t even think he cared about your reputation—he was just out to make a buck.”

  Lydia sank into a kitchen chair and stared disbelievingly at first at Kay. Realization slowly began to sink in as Karen laughed another wheezing laugh. Embarrassed and angry, Lydia spoke. “I’d say I knew it was too good to be true, but there wasn’t much that was good about that relationship.”

  “It was good for me.” Kay retorted sharply.

  “I’m sure it was,” Lydia answered and walked away.

  #

  While Ollie and Lydia discussed what to do with Kay, Clara, still wrought with emotion from the new information she had been given, quietly packed her things. She was intent on leaving the past behind and starting fresh somewhere else. As she was creeping across the cabin, the floor creaked, alerting Ollie.

  “Where are you off too, missy?” He asked.

  “Leaving.”

  “Clara, you can’t. It’s not safe.”

  “I don’t care. I quit. I don’t want to be special. I don’t want to be different. I don’t want to be me. I quit.”

  “Clara,” Ollie begged, “you can’t let this all be in vain. You can’t just quit and pretend none of this has happened!”

  Clara slammed her bag onto the floor, spilling a few of the toiletries that had still been in the cabin. She whirled around and advanced toward Ollie. “You’re right, Oliver. I can’t pretend none of this happened, even if I wanted to, and believe me, I do. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to hear thoughts or see the future or any other crazy thing I can do. I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t even ask to be born! This is not the life I signed up for!”

  “But this is the l
ife you have, Clara.” Ollie stated as calmly as he could as he sat up with a groan of old age. “We can help you learn to wield the powers you have. We can learn together how to control them. These are the cards you’ve been dealt, you just have to choose to play.”

  “I call misdeal. The deck was stacked before I was even born. I’m a freak, designed in a laboratory, man-made…I mean…ugh, you know what I mean, and I don’t like it. I don’t want to play this sick little game.” Clara was inches from Ollie’s face, but he politely stood his ground and refused to step back.

  “Clara, there are others. Others like you, but they’re still stuck. They don’t yet know who they are. We can help them, rescue them. Clara, they need you!”

  “No one rescued me. No one came to save the day when I was locked away in a mental institution. No one came to help when I didn’t know who the hell I was for all those months. It was me. Alone. With no one in my corner! Why should I help anyone, Ollie, answer me that, huh? Why should I help?” Clara was furious, more at the situation than the people around her, but they were there, and Ollie was an easy target.

  Ollie reached for his tweed jacket which was draped over the arm of the couch and fumbled in his pocket nervously, pulling out a crumpled envelope. “Clara, I’ve been holding this for you. Jamil was able to swipe this when you were admitted to Breemont. It was packed up and taken downstairs along with any other “evidence” from your real parents. It’s the same place he was able to procure a few real pictures of your parents too. This letter and those pictures should have been destroyed, but Jamil saved them. For you,” Ollie said, wiping away a lone tear from those bright blue and now mournful eyes, barely able to finish the sentence. He handed Clara a sealed white envelope with her name penned across the front, in looped and feminine handwriting. “Your letter is inside,” he assured. “It’s from your mother.”

  She looked at it longingly but did not open the envelope.

  “I expect you’ll want some privacy,” Ollie offered and turned to leave. He motioned to Lydia and Jamil who had been awakened by the commotion. They met Ollie near the door where he placed his hand affectionately on Lydia’s shoulder. They closed the door to the cabin behind them, taking seats in the weathered rockers on the porch that had once been where Melanie and Mark sat enjoying the sunset over the lake.

  Inside, Clara retreated to her room away from Kay who was sleeping heavily. She turned over the envelope in her hand and slipped her index finger inside the seam. She carefully ran her pointer along the flap, trying not to rip it as she opened it. She took a deep, cleansing breath because that’s what Dr. L…Lydia…would tell her to do, and she pulled out a piece of plain white paper which, unlike the outer envelope, was covered in her mother’s handwriting. She thought she could smell her perfume, but when she raised the letter to her nose, it just smelled like paper. She began to read.

  Dearest Clara,

  I know you’ll never sit still long enough to listen to me ramble, or if you did, I wouldn’t make it through my speech without an eye roll or two from you, so I’m putting it all down on paper. Keep it. Read the words often. They’re true. All of them.

  Oh, what I wouldn’t give to hold my baby girl just one more time. I’d squeeze you in my arms, bury my face in your beautiful brown hair, and never let you go, never let you grow up, sweet one. The problem is you are just too cool for anything more than a quick hug these days. I know, I know. I was the same way. It just comes with age, but I can’t help but miss having you in my arms.

  While we miss our sweet baby girl, your dad and I are excited to see you embark upon this extraordinary life. You are phenomenal. You are smarter and stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. You excel at everything you put your mind to. Honey, do amazing things. Help people. Love people.

  We love you more than words can say, and hopefully our actions prove that to you. Believe in yourself and trust your instincts. Your life is yours to live. Live it to the fullest, fill it with daring adventures, and leave your mark on this earth. We did, and it’s you. You have never been just our child, Clara. You are our everything.

  With all the love a mother’s heart can hold,

  Mom

  Clara clutched the letter to her chest as her anger began to fade away. She held the letter tighter and smiled through her tears. Her mother may have been gone, but her love was right here on this page. She had a tiny piece of her that she could keep and cherish always. She leaned back in her chair and read the letter again, realizing she was no longer a prisoner because of Ollie, Lydia, and Jamil. It was Ollie and Jamil who sent the message to Lydia that made an escape from a life of lies possible. It was Ollie who had saved her. It was Ollie who had helped her to be free. With the letter still clasped in her hand she bolted out of the bedroom and out of the cabin, flinging the door open and startling Lydia and Ollie who were still rocking on the porch. Ollie, always ready for anything found himself on his feet prepared to defend himself from an attack. And attacked, he was. Clara ran toward him and wrapped her arms around his thick neck.

  “I’m sorry Ollie. I didn’t mean it. I know you’ve done so much for me. I didn’t mean to be so hateful, really.” Clara apologized, embarrassed by her earlier outburst.

  “It’s okay, dearie. I know it’s hard, and I know life hasn’t been fair. But if you help the Others, it will help even the score. Take from BioTech what they tried to take from you, their future, their life’s work. We can take it all away, if you’ll agree to be a part of it. Lydia, Jamil, and I will try regardless of your decision, but we know we can’t do it on our own. We’ll help you tap into abilities none of us have ever dreamed of, and then we’ll help you hone those skills. Clara, if you’ll allow us, we’ll take care of you. We may not be anything close to being parents, but we love you.”

  Clara took a step backward from him. Lydia, who had stood to join them, hoping to intervene if things got messy, was relieved that she didn’t have to. They had diffused the conflict on their own. Clara looked from Ollie to Lydia and back to Ollie again. She grieved for her parents and would feel an empty ache in her heart for as long as she lived, but if she was going to have to adopt new parents, it may as well be the weird guy and the head shrink, she thought lovingly. She stepped forward again, nervous, but excited for what the future would bring. She wrapped her arms around both Ollie and Lydia and hugged them tightly.

  “Thank you, Ollie. Thank you, Dr. L. Thank you so much, thank you for everything. I think…” She released them and stepped back. Ollie and Lydia exchanged proud glances noticing the determination in Clara’s eyes. “I think I’m ready now.”

  She stepped away and looked at her new “parents”. She was joined by Jamil who had risen from the front steps. He hugged her briefly and awkwardly and then moved back a step or two.

  “Oh, Clara, one more thing!” he beamed.

  Clara waited for him to speak, but he didn’t say another word. Instead, he half-smiled and to her astonishment, his appearance transformed before her very eyes. There, before her, stood Michael, whose black hair bounced in his eyes as he and Clara laughed their first real laughter in a long, long time.

  “What the—”

  “I’ve been watching out for you a lot longer than you thought.”

  “I guess you have.” Clara replied, her cheeks pinking.

  Eventually, the unlikely quartet met privately in Clara’s bedroom at Jamil’s insistence.

  “We need to move,” explained Jamil. “They’re tracking us. And even if they weren’t, Kay’s friends can’t be far behind her.”

  “Who’s tracking us?” Lydia asked.

  “Owen and Diana,” Jamil replied. Before Lydia could open her mouth to ask the next question, Jamil answered it: “They are GES. The bad guys. People with abilities like Clara and me. I can feel them getting closer.”

  “Where will we go?” Lydia hadn’t even had time to catch her breath since 2 p.m. on the day of Clara’s last office visit, and she most certainly hadn’t had time to conte
mplate their next move. She looked to Clara who did not answer.

  “We’ll figure it out as we go. Worked out well enough for us last time.”

  “He’s right,” Ollie chimed in, “we just have to go. They’re coming and it will be more than just Kay this time. If we don’t get out of here, they’ll catch us for sure. And the only one coming out of that encounter alive will be Clara.”

  “And maybe Jamil.” Clara suggested.

  “Maybe.” Ollie answered.

  “What will we do with her?” Lydia asked indicating Kay.

  “Leave her.”

  Everyone looked in the direction from which the words came. Clara repeated herself.

  “Leave her,” She said, thinking of her mother’s kind words.

  “Clara, we can’t—”

  “We can and we will. What we can’t do is stoop to her level. Right now she’s tied up and injured. Her lackeys are almost certainly on their way.” She looked to Jamil--Michael--for reassurance. He nodded. “We can’t take her with us, and I won’t kill her. We’re better than that. We’ll leave her for them to find, and we’ll run. Pack. Now.”

  Clara’s company did as they were told without question. Lydia didn’t know if it was because Clara was using her powers or if they all knew she was right. Either way, they were packing and would be leaving just as soon as they possibly could.

  They exited the cabin and uncovered the black Sonata. As they strapped in, Clara sprang out of the backseat and ran back toward the cabin.

  “Clara, wait! Where are you going?” Lydia called.

  “I’ll be right back. I forgot something.”

  She pushed the cabin door open hard. She crossed the creaking floor and when she was face to face with Kay, she whispered, “I’ll see you again. I can promise you that. In the meantime, you’d better stay far, far away from my friends and me. It won’t end well for you.”

  Kay, who had woken from a black sleep did not answer.