Chapter 35
Ember
The fog rolls low across the parking lot, silver under the floodlights. Everything feels suspended, even sound itself is a breath across space.
Luke kills the engine. For a moment, we just sit there, the hum of the car fading into silence.
Ahead of us, the Willow Glen Institute rises from the mist as a modern shell with too many windows, too few lights.
On the surface, it looks like every other state-funded research center.
But underneath, it has the same sick energy that clung to Radley Hospital.
It’s a feeling I can’t describe but recognize right away.
My heart pounds. “This is really happening.”
Luke squeezes my hand. “We move when they do. Are you ready?”
I square my shoulders. “After everything they’ve done to my family? Possibly even to my mom? You’d better believe it.”
Through the windshield, I can see movement by the side entrance.
Billa and Florencia step out of the shadows, both wearing dark jackets, both appearing impossibly calm, though I know they have to be nervous too.
Florencia carries a messenger bag slung over one shoulder.
Inside it are copies of Sofia’s files, the testimonies—everything we’ve built.
Sofia and Kenzi emerge next, walking close together. Kenzi’s hood is up, her face pale but composed. She looks small beside Sofia, but her posture is straight and deliberate. She’s ready.
I swallow hard, my hand hovering near the door handle. “Once we go in—”
“There’s no halfway,” Luke finishes.
I glance at him. “You sure you want to risk your career for this?”
He smiles faintly. “Once all of this is exposed, it’ll be obvious what’s really going on. I’m not worried about their threats. If they have to stoop to ruining an elementary school PE teacher, that only shows how desperate they are.”
His words steady me. “True.”
We get out, our footsteps soft against the cracked asphalt.
When we reach the others, Sofia lifts her head.
The wind catches the loose strands of her hair, and for a moment, she looks almost luminous.
“The internal staff changeover is in twelve minutes, and that’s our window.
We go in as the prep team for the rehearsal. No names, no hesitation.”
Florencia nods. “Once we’re inside, we split. Luke and I set the recording lines. Ember and Billa go for the sub-level to find the holding rooms. Sofia and Kenzi handle the confrontation.”
The words ‘handle the confrontation’ make my stomach twist. It sounds too neat for what we’re about to do.
Billa squeezes my hand briefly. “Stay close. No matter what happens, we stick to the thread.”
I hate the spool reference, but she’s right.
Our group moves toward the entrance. The building looms taller the closer we get, the glass doors glinting like teeth. Sofia flashes an ID at the security pad. It’s one of the passes Luke and I rigged. The lock clicks open with a mechanical sigh.
Inside, the air is cold and sterile, the kind of clean that hides rot underneath the surface.
I glance over at Kenzi. Her lips move soundlessly, like she’s reciting something only she can hear. Maybe one of Sofia’s grounding phrases. Maybe something older.
A shiver runs through me at that thought.
We continue through the main corridor, past empty reception desks and glass walls that reflect our faces in fractured shards. My heartbeat thrums louder than our footsteps.
There’s no turning back now. Not that it was ever an option. We’re doing this for Kenzi, Billa, Florencia, Sofia, possibly my mom, and for all the others. Plus Fenna and others like her—ones who have yet to be stained by this conspiracy meant to destroy innocent lives.
Billa mutters under her breath. “It feels like walking into memory.”
I’m sure that’s exactly what it is for her.
Ahead, Sofia stops at a fork in the hallway. “This is it. They’re setting up for the rehearsal in the west wing. That’s where Dr. Radley will be.”
Florencia presses the recorder against her palm. “Then let’s make history.”
For a breath, none of us moves. We just look at one another. Survivors, witnesses, and believers standing on the edge of something too big to undo.
Then Sofia opens the door to the west wing, and we step into the lion’s den.