Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
SILAS
Gideon’s been at the dining table for two hours, his fingers working the keyboard and mouse like a maniac.
Fake clinic badges and clearance stickers are spread out between us, all perfectly aligned because chaos makes him itch.
I move between the counter and the window because sitting still isn’t an option.
The printer spits out another sheet. Gideon snatches it mid-air and scans it.
“That’s the last of the clearance stickers,” he mutters. “Color codes match the clinic’s.”
I nod, jaw tight. “Double check the badge formatting.”
“Doing it.” His tone’s clipped, but then again, so is my patience. “Everything matches.”
“Nothing matches,” I tell him. “We’re forging our way into a medical facility that launders children’s trauma. There’s nothing clean about this.”
He doesn’t argue, which tells me he agrees more than he wants to.
I drag the blueprints toward me and trace the hallways again. I’ve already memorized the entire layout, but staring at it keeps my body from rattling apart.
Gideon finally lifts his head. “Your jaw keeps locking. Stop grinding your teeth before you crack something.”
I breathe in through my nose and out through my teeth. “We need flawless timing tomorrow.”
“We’ll have it. Penelope and Talon stay out of sight. We walk in with credentials. We redirect the escort into the staff hall. We walk Minxy out. Smooth extraction.”
My phone pings with a notification from Penelope. A picture of her notebook. Proof she didn’t run into danger today. Talon sends a middle-finger emoji after it.
The chat buzzes again. Talon’s forwarded the call recording from St. Helen’s.
I hit play.
The woman’s voice is calm, polished, practiced, like she trained for years to sound helpful while delivering threats. “We're calling to inform you that Minxy's communication schedule has been adjusted. She'll not be making her usual weekly calls or sending emails... for the foreseeable future.”
“Remind me again how you got these blueprints and badges to make copies of?”
He looks up at the ceiling, annoyed. “I had my friend at the building department send me the blueprints, and the psych teacher Minxy told Talon about, emailed me the photos of all the credentials we’ll need.”
“What’s in it for him?” I ask, wanting to double check we’re not walking into a trap.
“Apparently Penelope’s mom was his therapist. I got in touch and offered him cash and a way out.
He, however, said he’d do it for Penelope.
Apparently, her mom helped him and was there for him when he needed it.
He did take me up on the way out. He has an interview with the psych department at the university next week. ”
I nod once and reopen the recording, letting the woman’s voice fill the room again. It’s worse the second time, colder now that I know exactly what she isn’t saying.
Gideon listens, shoulders going rigid, jaw tightening with each word.
When it ends, he pulls the laptop toward him and drags the audio file into a labeled archive folder: “SHI – Evidence 07.”
“They always pull communication before they move a student,” he says quietly. “Every facility like this does it. They call it ‘therapeutic distancing.’ It’s isolation. Pure and simple.”
“Or preparation,” I mutter. “Cut the lines. Close the exits. Make the kid compliant.”
Gideon’s fingers freeze over the keyboard. “You think they’re accelerating?”
“I think they’re scared,” I tell him. “And scared people make sloppy decisions.”
For a moment we don’t speak.
My phone buzzes again.
Talon: Coming back with Penelope.
Another buzz.
Talon: Promise me Minx will be home tomorrow.
Gideon reads over my shoulder. “He’s unraveling.”
“He has every right,” I say. “But he can’t show it.”
Gideon leans back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “We need him steady tomorrow. If Abi gets even a whiff that he’s off, she’ll lock everything down.”
“And she’ll know he’s off the second he opens his mouth,” I say. “He’s not good at neutral.”
“I’ll talk to him when he gets here,” Gideon offers.
I shake my head. “No. Let Penelope handle the emotional side. He listens to her. You and I handle logistics.”
Gideon taps the blueprints. “Speaking of… there’s something off here.”
I lean over the map. “What?”
He points to the clinic’s west hall. “This camera angle. See how the feed cuts the corner? There’s a blind spot for about six steps.”
“That’s where we shift her out of the escort’s view,” I realize. “If we time it right, no one sees anything.”
“Exactly,” he says. “But timing it wrong gets us flagged.”
“It won’t be wrong,” I answer. “I’ll be watching the guard’s posture. The escort’s stride. Every part of that hallway is predictable if you know how to read people.”
Gideon glances up at me, something close to confidence flickering behind the stress. “Remind me to never play poker with you.”
My phone buzzes again. This time it’s Penelope.
Penelope: On our way.
Gideon sits straighter. “Good. You talk. I’ll gather the rest of the intel.”
My pulse thuds hard once against my ribs.
“Silas,” Gideon says without looking up. “You’re ready for this.”
“I was born ready for this.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
I turn.
He meets my eyes. “You’re carrying the weight of three people who trust you. Don’t let that become the thing that breaks you.”
I hold his gaze for a beat. “It won’t.”
He nods once, but he doesn’t go back to the laptop. He just sits there, jaw working, hands clasped too tightly. Something crawls under his skin. I can see it before he even speaks.
“You want to talk about Abi,” I say.
His jaw flexes. “Do you?”
“You’re the one with the sister who we’ve confirmed is off her rocker,” I tell him. “How are you holding up?”
He huffs something that isn’t a laugh. “Silas… I don’t care about Abi. Not really.”
“You grew up with her.”
“Barely,” he snaps, then exhales and scrubs a hand down his face. “We were never close. Dominic was the tether that made us act like siblings. She’s always been… off. Something about her never clicked right. You know that.”
“I do.”
“I tolerated her because of Dom,” Gideon says. “That’s it. Talon and Minxy were the only reasons I ever picked up the phone when she called. Everything else about her? Noise. Background interference.”
“And now?” I press.
He looks up at me. “Now I don’t give a damn about anything to do with Abi, especially if she murdered my best friend.”
The air shifts. Hearing him say it out loud makes it real.
Dominic.
My brother.
My chest tightens.
Gideon studies my face for a moment. “How are you doing with it? Knowing your brother didn’t just… break?” His voice lowers. “Knowing his death was probably something else entirely?”
I blow out a breath that feels ripped from my lungs. “Mad as hell,” I admit. “She didn’t just take him from us. She left Talon to pick up the pieces.”
Gideon’s features soften. “He unraveled hard after Dominic died.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “And instead of helping him, Abi shipped him off to that goddamn school and told everyone it was for structure. She let him grieve alone.”
“And now he’s back.”
“And now he’s back,” I repeat. “And I don’t want this sending him into another spiral. He’s barely standing as it is.”
Gideon nods slowly. “So you’re good, but mad.”
“I’m good,” I say. “But furious. I want answers. I want the truth. I want to know exactly what happened to my brother… and I want Talon and Minxy safe enough to hear it.”
He taps the side of the laptop lightly. “Then tomorrow, we get her. And everything else starts from there.”
Footsteps approach the door.
Gideon shuts the laptop. “Showtime.”