Nothing happened. Silence. The scraping, grinding noises in the walls petered out, and the rotating guns from the ceiling lowered. The floor stopped shaking under their feet, and at last, everything was still. They stood there for a confused moment, all looking at each other, unsure what to make of any of it.
“Hey!” A new voice cut through the rushing in his ears, along with a beam of light that seemed sent from Heaven itself. On the other side of the bars, a swath of white light cut through the far wall as the elevator doors opened. Two silhouettes stood inside, black against the blinding light. Their rescuers ran out of the elevator: a dark-skinned girl with afro puffs and pink scrubs and another youth, very pale with white hair, hurried behind her. Working fast, the girl hurried up to the metal gate between her and the small group, somehow unlocking a hidden mechanism, and opening it from the center.
“Come on, come on!” She bounced on the spot, frantically ushering them through. “We shut down the defenses, but it won’t last long. Hurry up!”
They wasted no time in getting through the gate, and the girl quickly shut it behind them. Then she turned to face the group of very confused people staring at her. “Go-go-go!” She pointed toward the elevator. “Get out of here!”
Evelyn looked down as someone grabbed her hand—the white-haired teenager from the elevator—pulled her toward the elevator, making little insistent sounds.
They all dashed toward salvation, leaving the metal jungle of bars and vines behind to take over the hallway like alien kudzu, but the little butterflies made of barrettes and pens and business cards came flying after, just making it before the elevator door closed behind them with a sunny ding.
They collapsed against the elevator’s padded walls and soft strains of elevator muzak floated around them.
“Hey! Everybody alive?” They all jumped, then turned to see the girl in the pink hospital uniform somehow standing behind them in the back of the elevator. Everyone let out some noise or four-letter word in surprise. They’d definitely left the girl out in the hall, but here she was. The kid with the long white hair stood next to her, calm and quiet as ever.
“Where did you—” Evelyn stared. “What are you kids doing here? What is going on here?”
“Hi! I'm Lisette,” The girl gave them a wide, confident grin, as if the entire building hadn’t been trying to kill them moments before. “And this is Wren.” She looked down as the younger person took her hand again. The androgynous youth wore grey scrubs that matched Lisette’s pink. Wren stared steadily up at all of them with bright blue eyes that squinted slightly, examining each of their faces in turn, and lighting up when they reached Evelyn. When they got to Regan, he had the feeling they were committing his features to memory and felt oddly exposed. “And we are really, really glad you’re here.”
Evelyn took a deep breath. “What’s going on? What do you do here?”
“This is the Turret House.” Lisette said slowly, and Regan couldn’t decide if that was supposed to explain everything, or if she was trying to avoid the question. “Major Turret’s not here right now, so his son Liam’s in charge. And we’re here to… learn.”
“Learn—are you here for school?”
After a moment of what looked like deep consideration, Lisette nodded, eyes flicking over as if to confirm with Wren, who nodded quickly back. “Yes. School. And we… help with things.”
“Things?”
“Th—” Just then, Wren pulled at Lisette’s sleeve, and she paid close attention as her friend gestured from her to the group in the elevator and back, fingers flashing in rapid sign language. Once their hand dropped, the pair stared into one another’s eyes for a moment without blinking, and then Lisette turned to look back up at Evelyn. “What’s your name?”
“Evelyn—Evelyn Turret.” As soon as she said her name, Wren subtly nudged Lisette’s elbow with a faint smile and triumphant little jut of their chin. “Is Liam here now?”
“Sure is.” Lisette barely suppressed an eye-roll, but went quickly right back to studying Evelyn intently. “You’re his cousin, right?”
“He’s told you about me?” Evelyn brightened, then looked apprehensive.
“Uh… no.” Lisette looked at Wren, who busied themself with a strand of their long hair, looking troubled. “He doesn’t talk to us about anything. He’s too busy with—”
Lisette didn’t have time to finish. The elevator jerked to a stop, and the doors slid quietly open. A very pale man stood in the doorway to meet them, ramrod straight and tall, with his hands clasped behind his back. He was immaculate, clean-shaven and impeccably dressed in a black velvet suit. His gleaming steel-grey hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and black velvet ribbon, and his hard blue-grey eyes took in the gathered group with a coolness that might have been boredom were it not for their sharp edge of calculation.
“When I was told my cousin was here to see me, I must say, I expected someone else.”
Evelyn’s face flushed a furious dark red. Momentarily lost for words, she stared him with a combination of rage and disbelief, mixed with something else not easily read. When she spoke, her voice was deliberate, quietly controlled, and carried remnants of pounding guitars and banshee tornadoes. “Well. Here I am.”
He didn’t so much as blink, and he spoke in a bland tone that suggested detached observation rather than any kind of investment. “It’s just that I almost didn’t recognize you, given how much you’ve… changed.”
Evelyn shook her head, mouth twisting in a sharp smile; no joy, all bitter confirmation. “And you haven’t changed at all.”
“After ten years, Liam?” Rose said, voice uncharacteristically hard. “This is what you say to your cousin?”
“Then just keep your mouth shut.” Danae’s eyes flashed a challenge up at Liam as she stepped up to stand on Evelyn’s other side. “You don’t have to put up with this, Evelyn. We’ll find somewhere else. He’s not worth it.”
“Rosie, Danae, I love you, but this is my decision. And I’ve made it. We’re staying.” Evelyn spoke through clenched teeth. “There’s no place safer. If we leave, SkEye will find us. He knows the only reason I’d come back here and subject myself to this is if death or exposing our last safe houses were the alternative.” She nodded to the controlled but definitely smug look on the man’s face, then turned to look at Regan, who’d been silently wondering if it was still too late to cut and run. “He also knows he can’t keep me out of my own home.”
“I’d never try,” her cousin said levelly. During his guests’ interactions, he’d quietly watched and studied each of them with intense focus. Regan had the uncomfortable impression that Liam was carefully analyzing their expressions, mannerisms, motivations, and drawing far more conclusions than he should. “You know you’re always welcome here. You and your friends… not all of whom I’ve met.” Liam's cold eyes fell on Regan… then quickly moved on. Regan had been dismissed. He wasn’t sure whether he should feel relieved or insulted.
“All right, if we’re really doing this,” Evelyn shook her head, marveling. “Liam, you remember Rose and Danae, and I’m sure they remember you.”
“He was a brat ten years ago, and now he’s… another four-letter word.” Danae stopped herself just in time, glancing down at her son. Jack was staring intently at Liam with quiet suspicion on his small face, while Rose fixed Liam with an expression of cold incredulity, eyes half-shut and eyebrows raised.
“Likewise, I’m sure.” Liam inclined his head in a little bow; the barest hint of a smile appeared around his thin mouth, accompanied by the arch of an eyebrow. Coming from him it felt like an invitation to a duel.
“And Liam, meet Regan.” Evelyn waved her hand between them. “Regan’s—ah…”
“Just looking for answers,” he said, trying to smile in a way he hoped was charming instead of nervous. “Nice… nice house.”
Liam gave Regan his attention for a full half-second, expression a complete and non-commenting blank, before turning back to Ev
elyn and addressing her alone. “I take it you didn’t see the sign at the entrance? The one that clearly stated we were having… difficulties? What about the blaring alarms? Or the gates might have been a clue?”
“I had an inkling,” Evelyn said slowly, “but I didn’t think I needed to knock before coming into my own house.”
“Yes, well. Things have changed, as you, clearly, so well know.”
“They’re not very good changes.” Liam looked down with a start as Lisette spoke; he’d clearly forgotten she was there. “The house ones, I mean.”
“Young lady, I will thank you to keep your mouth shut about things you don’t understand.” Liam sneered down at her, and then at Wren—and his frown deepened. Instead of quailing under his glare, Wren just stared up at Liam, unblinking and unflinching. “Honestly, why can’t you be more like your quiet little friend?”
Wren gave a deliberate eye-roll and exchanged a smirking glance with Lisette, who stifled a laugh. Liam’s shallow face flushed red, but he didn’t get the chance to start another tirade.
“Liam, if you’re done bullying children…” Evelyn folded her arms as her cousin opened his mouth. “I think it’s time for some answers. Automated security? What is going on here?”
“Ah, yes. There have been several… changes, in your absence. I would have written to inform you, but you neglected to give a forwarding address.”
“Silly me.”
“Indeed. Now,” Liam waved them deliberately down the hall, inclining his head ever so slightly. “You will remain on your own designated floor. You should have everything you need there and no reason to bother me.”
“But we’re here too!” Lisette grinned up at them; Wren took her hand and gave the group a little smile and nod. “I’ll check on you guys later. We’ll…talk more then.” She didn’t seem to notice Liam’s deadly glare, but Evelyn could practically hear his teeth grinding.
“We’ll stay,” she said firmly. Regan’s eyes flicked from one to the other and back, noticing that the cousins had become weird mirror-images of each other. They couldn’t have looked more different on the surface—the rigid, waxy-skinned, pinch-mouthed man and the colorful, earnest, expressive woman opposite him. But after a few moments in the same room as Liam, Evelyn had started to pick up his formal way of speaking and studiedly dignified mannerisms. If you looked past superficial appearances, you could see the resemblance. “Now stop avoiding my questions and give me a straight answer. What—”
“We’ll also talk in the morning,” he interjected smoothly, shooting a glance at Lisette as if somehow he’d just scored a point. She smiled back mildly. If they really were playing any kind of game, she didn’t seem worried about losing. “As you can see, we’re dealing with something of a crisis here. But if you must have a recap of the past decade, please meet me for brunch on the balcony tomorrow morning. End of discussion.”
Evelyn nodded. “I’ll be there. Just… give me your word that we’re safe here. All of us.” She glanced down at Jack, who’d fallen completely silent during the entire exchange, watching them with large, dark eyes. Then, pointedly, up at Regan, who stood equally silent but much less relaxed with his arms folded and back against the wall.
“Of course.”
“Your word?” Danae raised her thick eyebrows, looking from Evelyn to Liam and back. “His word. That’s all we get: this pompous, slimy, pasty little boy’s word that he won’t turn us all in?”
“Believe me, I know.” Evelyn kept up the staredown with Liam. “My cousin’s a colossal, privileged jackass, but he never breaks a promise. We’re safe here.”
“Safe as anyone can be in Parole. Now excuse me.” Liam turned on his heel and took a long-legged step back into the elevator. “Lisette, Wren, come.” He waited, but nothing happened—they were both gone.
“Where did—” Evelyn blinked in confusion, turning around in a complete circle to look in all corners of the elevator. The two young teenagers had been standing in the back, behind everyone else. There was no way for them to get out past everyone, but somehow, they’d disappeared. “Did you see where—”
“Good night,” Liam said, and it sounded like a warning not to ask any more questions. Not about the disappearing kids, about him, or the house, or about anything at all.
“One last thing!” Evelyn held the elevator doors before they slid shut. “Mama—how is she?”
“See for yourself.” She let go, and the doors closed over Liam’s cold, unblinking gaze.
❈
Regan was almost asleep when a half-transparent teenage boy materialized at the foot of his bed. He was fully awake and scrambling as far away as he could get by the time apparition started talking to him.
“Do you know who I am?” the ghost boy asked—then broke into a grin. “Oh, sorry, that’s your line, isn’t it?”
“No—you’re a dream. You have to be a dream.” Like many things on this surreal day, the stranger was familiar. And now he flickered in and out of existence like an image on a TV screen with bad reception. “I hit my head, or something, and I can’t remember anything and… and now… now I’m…”
“So it worked,” said the teenager who seemed to be only half-real. A smirk spread across his sharp-edged face and his gleaming eyes narrowed. “Cool.”
“How did you—wait.” Regan narrowed his eyes in thought, flicked his tongue in and out. But he didn’t smell anything, didn’t taste anything; the ghostly intruder had no scent, no taste, as if he wasn’t there at all. He paused, cogs in his damaged brain working to put it together. “Hans!”
“That’s right.” Hans cocked his head and smiled, revealing very white, very straight teeth. “I am the answer to everything you want to know. I am the sleeping princess locked in the tower. It’s your job to help me… to help you.”
“You can start by making sense.”
“Oh, good! See, you haven’t lost everything! You still have your sense of humor!”
“I’d rather have my life back.”
“You’ll get it, promise! But there’s something I need you to do for me.” Hans’s presence seemed to envelop Regan like a fog, even though he hadn’t come closer. “You do exactly as I say… and I’ll tell you who you are. I’ll give you back your brain, safe and sound. All your memories, and then some. But don’t worry, you’re not alone. There’s someone here who can help you. You met ‘em today.”
As Regan thought, he slowly made a face. “Liam?”
“No! Think harder.”
“I didn’t meet any…” then Regan stopped, frowned. The tall, hooded figure on the steps of the house. When the hood lowered, stitches across their face. Dark sunglasses. Familiarity in the eyes behind them. “I remember now.”
“Good. They’ll be back soon. They’ll take you upstairs to see me—to my body, anyway. We’ll all sit down and chat about the next step.”
Regan folded his arms. “Just tell me what you want right now, and I’ll do it. Stop drawing it out.”
Hans appeared to give the matter serious thought, then shook his head “No.”
Regan couldn’t glare at Hans, since he seemed—dizzyingly—-everywhere and nowhere at once, so he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why the mind games? What the hell do you want from me?!”
Hans floated, cross-legged, at Regan’s eye level and explained slowly, as if to a child. “If I told you everything, you’d have no reason to help me, now would you? Oh!” He grinned, realizing a silver lining. “You did a great job so far, though! Not a hundred percent, but I didn’t take total control either.”
“What are you…?”
“You’re a way better listener than I expected! You didn’t let Celeste the secret-finder-outer see you, you listened to me when I told you to get rid of that nosy psychic Cai kid—even if you didn’t get rid of him all the way. But, I mean, better than nothing.”
“It was you,” Regan whispered. “You were the… when I got so scared, and I had to—the voice, it was—”
<
br /> “Yeah, yeah, but I probably won’t even have to do that again, you listened so fast! I mean, almost. Whatever, we got this far! And you’re so much easier to deal with like this! No idea why I didn’t do this sooner. Anyway, see you in the morning!” Hans began to fade away. “This is gonna be great, just trust me. Oh, and one last thing. Do not tell Rose or Danae that I’m talking to you. Don’t tell them about me at all. Kay, dream sweet!”
“Wait!” Regan shouted, lurching up and forward, shivers running down his spine. “Give me back my head! Give me back my life!” But Hans was gone. Only blue shadows, starched linen sheets and silence remained. Regan flopped backwards and stared at the ceiling until dim Parole sunlight beamed through the window.
❈
As Regan lay in sleepless fear, Jack slept peacefully snuggled between two of his mothers. The third pressed the elevator button and stepped inside. Evelyn clutched a pillow and blanket to her chest, staring at the floral walls as the little box descended. She crept through the dark and now-unfamiliar entrance and pushed against the doors—locked. There was a thumb pad next to the door, which probably recognized fingerprints. Likely programmed for Liam, Lisette, Wren—and maybe…
She tentatively pressed her thumb against the plate—and shook her head in wonderment as the mechanism hummed and clicked open. Wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that… but someone had done that on purpose. Left her fingerprint in the system, a little candle in the window all these years. Who, she couldn’t imagine. Surely not Liam.
The place wasn’t just an unhappy childhood memory anymore, it was a prison. The ghosts of bad dreams and traumas had been replaced by actual horrors and guns pointing at her through the walls. Though one thing remained the same: the Turret House would give her nightmares for the rest of her life.
Evelyn shoved the door open and stumbled outside into the hot, smoky night, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders and head like a long hooded cloak. The fires burning from below kept the asphalt painfully hot against her feet, and she hurried across as fast as she could. Parole was boiling in a frying pan, and the stove was always on.
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