35. Ellie #2
"They never intended to let me go," I say. My voice sounds hollow. "Not after he died. My father didn't just find a secret society; he found the infection at the core of everything. And I was always the second act of a play they’d already written."
"I know how they think," I say. I look at Killian now. He’s watching me like I’m a bomb. "I know how Grace breaks them. I can find the flaws in her work."
"Seventeen other facilities are still operational," Gabriel confirms. "We've been working to identify locations, gather evidence, and plan simultaneous raids."
I look at the screens, at the photographs of victims, at the data representing hundreds of lives destroyed.
"I want to help," I say.
The room goes quiet.
"Ellie," Killian begins, but I cut him off.
"I'm a psychologist specializing in coercive control and trauma. I spent weeks experiencing Grace firsthand. I know how she thinks, how she breaks people, how her system works." I meet each person's eyes in turn. "You need me."
"You've been through hell," Gabriel says carefully. "No one expects you to."
"To what? Sit in a bedroom processing my feelings while three hundred other victims are still being tortured?" I shake my head. "Absolutely not."
Jackson leans forward. "What exactly are you proposing?"
"I want to analyze Grace's work. Identify weaknesses in the conditioning methods they're still using. Develop deprogramming techniques for rescued victims." I pause. "And I want to help plan the raids on the other facilities."
"Abso-fucking-lutely not," Killian says flatly. "You're not going anywhere near that place again."
"You don't get to make that decision for me."
"The hell I don't. You've been free just over a week. You're still having flashbacks. You can barely—"
"Barely what? Barely function? I'm functioning well enough to see patterns in Grace's work that you've all missed. High-tier intelligence, and not a single living relative. They’re all Zero-Links, no one is looking for them.
I'm functioning well enough to know that every hour we waste is another hour they suffer.
" I step toward him. "I'll be remembering for the rest of my life, Killian.
Whether I'm hiding in a bedroom or helping take down the organization that did this to me.
At least if I'm helping, the memories serve a purpose. "
He stares at me, jaw clenched, clearly wanting to argue but recognizing he has no right.
"She's right," Kai says quietly. "Better she’s digging through files than staring at the ceiling and waiting for the next flashback. Besides, she’s the only one of us who’s survived that loop. If she says there’s a pattern we missed, I'm inclined to believe her.
Stop being a dick and start listening to her. "
Killian snorts in disapproval.
Gabriel exchanges a look with Jackson, then nods. "You've been in Grace's head. Look at the files Jackson is pulling and tell us how to un-fuck what she did to these people. We'll be the muscle, but we need you to be the brains. From right here. No field work. Not yet."
It's not everything I want, but it's a start.
"Okay," I say. "When do we begin?"
For the next three hours, I sit with Gabriel and Jackson.
I let my training take over. I stop seeing the names on the screen.
I see the variables. The dosages of ketamine.
The timing of the sleep deprivation. I pick her work apart until the horror is just data.
I’m looking for ways to tear her world down.
This is what I'm good at. This is who I am beneath the trauma.
Killian watches from across the room, silent but present. Every time I reference something Grace did to me, his hands clench. But he doesn't interrupt. Doesn't try to protect me from my own memories.
When we finally break, the sun is setting. My body aches with exhaustion, but my mind feels clearer than it has in weeks.
"You held your own," Gabriel says, his voice a low rumble. "Now go to bed, Ell's. You look like you’re about to fall over."
I nod, stretching out my limbs. Jackson pulls a ruggedized black laptop from his tactical bag.
He sets it on the table with a heavy thud.
"Everything we pulled from the Horizon server is on here," Jackson says. "I’ve encrypted the partition, so it’s private. No tracking logs, no history. It’s you and the data, Ellie. Go as deep as you need to."
Taking the machine, I don't look at Killian as I turn for the door.
"You read the logs," he says. Not a query, but a sentence. "My logs. Everything I did for the Order before I found you."
"I did."
"And?"
I consider lying, offering easy comfort.
But we're past that now. "I saw a man who was very good at his job.
Who killed efficiently, without hesitation.
" I pause. "I also saw an internal eval. They flagged your growing unreliability and recommended re-conditioning because you were trying to find an exit. To them, you were just a high-functioning prisoner.”
"That doesn't change what I did."
"No. But it gives it context." I meet his eyes. "You killed my father to protect the only family you had. That doesn't make it right. But I understand it."
"I'm not asking for forgiveness."
"Good. Because you won't get it. Not yet." I turn to leave. "But don't try to shield me from this. I'm part of it now."
I go back to my room and sit on the edge of the bed, the laptop that Jackson gave me humming on my knees. I scroll through scans of my father’s notebooks until the handwriting starts to feel like a voice in my ear.
I’m going to find the people who signed his death warrant. And I’m going to tear their world down, brick by fucking brick.