Chapter 24
Billa
By the time I’m finally talking with Ember and Luke again, my hands are still shaking. I keep them stuffed in my pockets, as if I can hide my nerves along with everything else.
We’re in Ember’s room at the mansion, the three of us hunched over her laptop. The glow paints their faces stark, all hard edges and shadows.
“We need to pull it all together,” Luke says, sketching notes across a scrap of paper. “Phoenix’s files, Compass’s maps, Ghost’s financials, what you learned at the support group. Every thread connects.”
Ember glances at me. “And you said you’ve been… seeing things at Radley?”
My throat goes tight. The image of my mother under that harsh fluorescent light sears into me again. Her hands flipping through a file. The look in her eyes, one moment from catching mine.
I nod slowly. “There are places below the hospital. Locked doors, old corridors. They’re hiding a lot.”
Ember leans forward, eyes fierce. “Then that’s it. That’s our proof.”
Luke adds, “If there are sub-levels still in use, that explains the deletions Ghost was seeing. They’re hiding current operations, not just history.”
They’re both looking at me now, waiting. My heart pounds so hard it hurts. I could tell them everything—that my mother isn’t who I thought she was, that she’s involved. That the questions she scribbled in her notes weren’t just idle curiosities.
The words press against my teeth. I should tell them. Tell them now.
But fear clamps down. If I say it aloud, it becomes real. And once it’s real, I can’t deny it.
Instead, I force my voice steady and say, “I didn’t get far. I had to turn back. It’s going to take time.”
It’s not a lie. But it’s not the truth either.
Ember nods, though something flickers in her eyes—like she knows I’m holding back. Luke just writes faster, lines of arrows connecting names and dates and fragments of memory. “Then we keep digging.”
I swallow hard, nodding in agreement. But inside, I feel like the walls are closing in.
There’s one piece of the puzzle I’m too afraid to set on the table.
And it has my mother’s face.
Luke’s pen stops mid-scratch. He looks up at me, not unkind, but sharp in a way that makes me sit straighter. “You’re holding something back.”
It isn’t a question. The words hit me like a stone in my chest. Ember shoots him a look, but he doesn’t waver.
“Luke…”
“We don’t have time to wait. People are disappearing, records are being deleted, kids are still down there. If you know something and you don’t say it, you’re not protecting yourself. You’re putting all of us at risk.”
My mouth goes dry. I grip my knees to keep them from shaking.
Ember’s voice is gentler, but no less insistent. “Billa, we’re in this together. Whatever you saw, whatever you found, we can handle it. But we can’t do it blind.”
I see it again. My mother’s profile bent under the light, her hand flipping through files that never should have been within her reach. The way her eyes almost met mine. The raw, impossible reality of it.
My voice shakes when I answer. “I told you. I saw the sub-level. That’s all.”
Luke doesn’t blink. “No, that’s not all. What are you holding back?”
Heat rises behind my eyes. My chest feels like it’s caving in. “You don’t understand.”
“Then help us,” he says, leaning in, voice low but urgent. “Make us understand. Don’t make me guess while people’s lives are on the line.”
The silence stretches. Ember’s gaze flicks between us, her lips pressed tight.
But the words won’t come. I can’t let them.
Finally, I push back from the table, standing too quickly. “I need air.”
Before either of them can stop me, I’m already at the door. This is too much.
Once outside, the night air is cool against my face, but it doesn’t calm me. I step off the porch and keep going, down the gravel path until the mansion’s lights are a faint glow behind me.
Luke’s voice won’t leave my head. You’re holding something back. Don’t make me guess while people’s lives are on the line.
He’s right. Every word is right.
But how do I tell them? How do I make myself say it aloud?
I wrap my arms around myself, walking faster, until the path gives way to trees. The branches close in overhead, crickets humming like a low, steady pulse.
My thoughts circle like vultures.
Mom was there—she’s part of this. What does that mean for me? For everything I’ve buried?
I press a hand to my chest, my heartbeat frantic beneath my palm. What if I’m more like her than I want to believe?
Leaves crunch behind me, sounding harsh in the quiet. I whirl, breath caught.
Nothing. Just shadows between the trees.
I force myself to turn back, but my pulse won’t settle. I can’t shake the feeling that someone or something is following.
By the time I make it back to the mansion porch, my chest aches from holding in too much. Ember’s silhouette is in the window, her hand pressed to the glass, watching for me.
I pause at the steps, staring up.
She trusts me. Luke wants the truth from me.
And I’m standing here drowning in it, unable to speak.
I stand frozen on the porch, staring at Ember’s hand against the glass. My throat aches with everything I haven’t said. Running won’t silence it. Pretending won’t erase it.
If I don’t tell them, it’ll kill me from the inside out. I draw a shaky breath and turn toward the door.
The hallway feels too bright, too exposed, as I climb the spiral stairs. My legs are heavy, each step an effort, but somehow I make it back to Ember’s room.
They’re both there. Ember’s pacing. Luke’s seated at the desk with his arms folded tight. The air is thick and charged.
I stop in the doorway. “I need to tell you something.”
They both look at me. Ember’s face softens immediately. Luke’s stays guarded.
I step inside, shutting the door behind me. My hands knot together, cold and clammy. “I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. But… you’re right. You need the truth. All of it.”
Luke leans forward, his voice low but steady. “Then start where you can. Whatever it is, we’re all on the same side.”
Ember takes a step closer. She studies me, concern evident in her eyes. “Whatever it is, you’re not alone.”
The words crack something inside me. I sink down onto the edge of the bed, my chest tight.
“I’ll tell you,” I whisper. “But you have to understand it’s difficult. Saying it makes it… real.”
The silence afterward is unbearable. My pulse thuds in my ears.
There’s no turning back.
The words claw their way up my throat. I want to swallow them back down, to bury them where no one can touch them, but Luke’s gaze is sharp and Ember’s steady, and I know there’s no hiding anymore.
“I saw her,” I choke out.
“Who?” Ember asks gently.
“My… mother.” The syllables scrape raw on the way out. “She was there. In Radley. In the underground.”
Silence crashes over the room. Ember’s mouth falls open, her brow knitting like she can’t quite process what I’ve said. Luke, though, goes rigid, his jaw clenching as the weight of it sinks in.
I grip the edge of the bed so hard my knuckles ache. “She had nothing to do with it. I thought she was just… normal. Ordinary. But I saw her with my own eyes. Going through files like she belonged there. Like she’d always been there.”
My stomach squeezes so tight I’m not sure I can survive it. What if my mom brought all of this to the Brannons? What if we’re implicated in all of this more than they are? If we’re behind all of Kenzi’s pain? Maybe even the death of Claire?
I can’t live with any of that.
Ember’s voice is a whisper. “Billa…”
“I ran,” I admit, my voice breaking. “Didn’t wait for her to see me. I couldn’t. If she looked at me… if she knew what I saw, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
Luke leans forward, his voice low but urgent. “Then she’s part of it. She’s not some bystander. She’s inside this, which means she’s dangerous.”
The word twists inside me. Dangerous. My mother’s face flickers in my mind. Familiar, and now tainted by fluorescent light and Radley’s walls.
Ember kneels beside me, her hand light on mine. “You don’t have to face this alone, but you do have to face it. She might have answers none of us can find anywhere else.”
I swallow hard, the taste of fear thick in my mouth. “What do we do?”
Luke doesn’t hesitate. “We dig. You have to find out what she knows. If she’s helping them, then we stop her.”
The room feels smaller, the air heavier. I stare at the floor, every heartbeat echoing like a drum.
Deep down, I already know whatever my mother’s role is, it changes everything.
At least I don’t need to worry about choosing sides. I know where I stand.