Jessa's waiting outside the theater when we get back. Leaning against the brick wall like she owns the alley, arms crossed, that same leather jacket she wore when we were together. The one I told her made her look like she was trying too hard.
She still wears it.
"You look like shit," she says.
Rowan steps in front of me. Not aggressive. Just there. A wall made of pale skin and bad timing.
"Down," I mutter. "She's—it's fine."
"She armed," Rowan says. Not a question.
Jessa pulls her jacket open. Empty. No gun, no blade, just a phone clipped to her belt and a recorder in her shirt pocket. "See? Harmless."
"You're never harmless," I say.
She grins. Doesn't reach her eyes. "You either, apparently. Who's your friend?"
"Rowan." I don't explain further. Don't know how. "You said you found something."
Jessa glances at Rowan, then back at me. Her jaw tightens. She hates not knowing things. Always did. "Not out here. Your place?"
I almost laugh. My place is a ten-by-twelve room with a futon, a hotplate, and a window that doesn't lock. "Fine. But she stays."
"Wasn't gonna ask her to leave," Jessa says. She pushes off the wall and walks past us, heading for the side door. "You coming or what?"
Rowan looks at me. I nod. She follows.
Upstairs, Jessa doesn't sit. She paces. Three steps, turn, three steps back. The floor creaks under her boots. Rowan stands by the window, watching the street below. I sit on the futon because my legs are done.
"Show me," I say.
Jessa pulls out her phone. Swipes through files. Her mouth is a thin line. "I've been digging into Halo Program files for six months. Ever since my brother—" She stops. Swallows. "Ever since he died in that lab fire. Official report said equipment malfunction. But the timestamps didn't line up. Security footage got wiped. Witnesses transferred or quit."
"Jessa."
"I'm getting there." She taps the screen. Turns it toward me. "I found this on a scrapped server. Someone tried to delete it. They missed."
The video loads. Grainy. Low light. A lab. White walls. Equipment I don't recognize. And then—
Mom.
She's younger. Hair shorter. Wearing a lab coat. Standing in front of a glass chamber. Inside, something glows. Silver. Humanoid. Eyes closed.
"Play it," I say. My voice sounds far away.
Jessa hits play.
Mom's talking to someone off-screen. No audio. But I can read her lips. I spent years watching her mouth move, trying to guess what she wasn't saying out loud.
*This isn't what we agreed to.*
The camera shifts. A man steps into frame. Older. Suit. Tablet in hand. He's smiling.
*You signed the contract, Dr. Vale. The units belong to us.*
Mom shakes her head. Points at the chamber. The figure inside.
*They're not units. They're—*
The feed cuts. Black screen. Two seconds. Then it flickers back. Different angle. Same lab. The chamber is open. Empty. Alarms flash red. Mom's on the floor. Blood on her temple. The man in the suit is gone.
The video ends.
I can't breathe. Can't move. Can't look away from the black screen.
"Nia," Jessa says quietly. "Your mom didn't quit. She tried to shut it down."
"She left." My voice cracks. "She left me."
"She got pulled out," Jessa says. "Or killed. I don't know which. But she was trying to stop them from doing exactly what they did. Making weapons out of people."
Rowan turns from the window. Her eyes are locked on the phone. "That chamber. I know it."
Jessa stares at her. "You were in the program?"
"I was the program," Rowan says. Flat. Empty. "First gen. Before they learned how to make us obedient."
My stomach drops. "Rowan—"
"Dr. Vale tried to free us," Rowan says. Still staring at the phone. "She got three out. Then they locked the rest of us down. Told us she was the enemy. That she'd betrayed the mission."
"Three," I repeat. "Three of you got out."
"I don't know where they went," Rowan says. "I was in cryo when it happened. When I woke up, she was gone. They said she died. Equipment fire. I believed them."
Jessa's watching me. That reporter look. The one that means she's putting pieces together faster than I can keep up. "Nia. Your mom didn't just work for Halo. She built it. And then she tried to burn it down."
I stand up. Too fast. The room tilts. "I need air."
"Nia—"
"I need air."
I head for the door. Rowan's faster. She's in front of me before I take two steps. Blocking the way.
"Move," I say.
"No."
"Rowan—"
"They're coming," she says. Her head tilts. Listening to something I can't hear. "Drones. Three blocks out. Thermal sweep. They'll have this building locked in ninety seconds."
Jessa swears. Shoves her phone in her pocket. "Back exit?"
"Welded shut," I say. My brain's moving again. Slow. But moving. "Fire escape?"
"They'll see us the second we're outside," Rowan says. "We need cover. Or a distraction."
I look at her. Really look. She's pale. Her hands are shaking. The glow under her skin is dimmer than it was an hour ago. She's running out of time.
And I'm her key.
"How much can you do?" I ask. "Right now. Before you crash."
Rowan meets my eyes. "Depends what you need."
"A door," I say. "Through a brick wall. And a way to keep those drones off us long enough to use it."
Jessa stares at me. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Rowan doesn't look away from me. Waiting.
I've never given an order before. Not a real one. Not one that could kill someone if I get it wrong. But Mom tried to free them. She tried to stop this. And I'm not gonna let them take Rowan back because I was too scared to finish what Mom started.
"Make us a door," I say. "Don't die making it."
Rowan smiles. Small. Real. "Yes, Commander."
She turns. Walks to the far wall. Places both palms flat against the brick. Her skin starts to glow. Bright. Brighter. The air hums. My teeth ache. The bricks crack. Splinter. Light pours through the gaps.
Jessa grabs my arm. "Nia, what is she—"
The wall explodes outward. Not loud. Just gone. A clean hole, edges smooth, opening onto the next building's storage room. Rowan stumbles. Catches herself on the edge. Her hands are smoking.
"Go," she says. Her voice is thin. "Now."
I grab her. Pull her arm over my shoulders. Jessa takes the other side. We move. Through the hole. Into the dark. Behind us, the window shatters. A drone drops into my room. Spotlight sweeping.
We're in the storage room when the screen flickers on. Blue glow. The drone's camera. And a face I don't recognize. Older man. Suit. Smile that doesn't move.
"Nia Vale," he says. Voice smooth. Friendly. Like we're old friends. "I'm Arden Knox. I think it's time we talked about your mother."
The feed cuts.
Rowan collapses.