“Shh,” Conrad cut her off. “Don’t apologize. You got your daughter back and that’s a good thing.”
“But you lost yours and I can’t help wondering—”
“No,” his voice was firm. “Stella wasn’t in control of her own mind and I don’t blame her for Lydia’s death. Declan told me what it was like. The only reason he could break free was due to his ability. Nothing that happened that day is her fault. Look at me.” He bent down, forcing her to look at his face. “I love you.”
She leaned forward and kissed him. “I love you,” she said, leaning her forehead against his shoulder before she smiled up at him. “I’ll be here when you get home.” He returned the smile and nodded once before turning and walking to the door. He paused as he reached for the knob and she wondered if he was going to say something, but then he opened the door and left, closing it behind him with a click.
“Did she say what she wanted?” Conrad’s tone was all business now, as he walked alongside Pax toward the elevator.
Pax shook his head. “No, sir,” he said. “But she looked upset. Like maybe she’s been crying.” He looked slightly uncomfortable as he said the words and Conrad wondered what might have happened to upset Stella. As far as he knew, only Sawyer had been to see her and that had been yesterday afternoon. He wondered if something about that conversation had upset Stella. He and Pax took the elevator, although it was only one level above them. Conrad was distracted and barely registered the walk from the elevator to the holding cells. When he realized they’d arrived, he shook himself and focused his mind on the present.
He gave Pax a nod. “Thank you for coming to get me,” he said. “I know it’s late. You don’t have to stick around.”
Pax raised his brows. “Are you sure?”
Conrad gave him a reassuring smile. “Absolutely. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Pax gave him a small smile in return before he turned to go.
Conrad watched him until he turned the corner toward the elevator. Then he turned and finished the short walk to the guarded door ahead. The young woman standing next to the door pulled herself up straighter when she saw him approaching. She maintained her serious expression and dipped her head.
“Sir,” she said.
“I was told she asked to speak with me,” Conrad said, a slight question in his tone.
The young guard nodded. “Yes, sir,” she said. “She hasn’t spoken a word to me in all these nights of guarding her, so when she finally said something, I paid attention.”
Conrad smiled briefly. “Thank you. I guess I need to find out what she has to say, then.” He moved toward the door and she opened it for him. He walked into the little observation room and the door closed behind him, encasing the room in silence. Conrad walked over to the chair and pulled it closer to the glass before sitting down, facing the cell.
Stella wasn’t lying on the bed staring at the ceiling as she’d been during most of Conrad’s previous visits. She sat in the only chair the tiny cell offered, her posture rigid and hands folded in her lap. Conrad thought that Pax had been right. She looked like something had upset her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her face was swollen He wondered what had happened.
“Is something wrong?” he asked. “Did something happen?”
Stella ignored his question and leaned forward. “I’ll tell you everything I can remember. Maybe it will help. I don’t know.” Her voice was strong and clear, despite the visible evidence that she’d been crying.
Conrad tried not to let his surprise show on his face. This was the most she’d spoken to him in the month since her return. He didn’t know what had changed her mind, but he was grateful. He sat up a little straighter, listening intently.
Stella began to speak again. “I was a prisoner the entire time. Don’t think I wasn’t. I was never alone unless I was locked in a cell. Most of the time, I wasn’t even alone inside my own head.” Her face took on a haunted look for just a moment before she shook it off and looked back to Conrad. “I’m getting a little ahead of myself, I guess. Let’s see, I fell to my death—what should have been my death, anyway. When I woke up, I was on a stretcher, in a room that looked a lot like a hospital. Lots of bright lights and beeping machines.” She paused and studied Conrad for a moment before taking a deep breath.
“I wasn’t alone,” she said. “Rafe Wilks was there with me. He healed me. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was Ephraim’s prisoner too. He told me that he was sorry. He said it was easier if I didn’t fight it, but also that fighting would keep me sane. I didn’t know what he meant until I met Hastings a few days later.” She rubbed her palms against her pants legs and took a shaky breath. “I managed to get my hands on a scalpel. It was just a tiny blade, but it was sharp. I hid it for two days. I watched and waited, looking for my opportunity. I grabbed a guard and put the blade to his neck. I don’t know what I thought was going to happen.” Her eyes narrowed, and her brow furrowed as if she were deep in thought. “They were never going to let me go. Maybe I was hoping they’d kill me before I could find out what they had planned for me. I don’t know.” She shook her head and she seemed to be lost in her memories. After a moment, she shook herself and began speaking again.
“Before I even realized what I was doing, I let the guard go. I just stood there, frozen, knowing I needed to run, but not being able to even form the thought.” Her thumb rubbed absently at a spot just above her right knee. “Then I stabbed myself in the leg.” She met Conrad’s gaze. “All the way to the bone. I didn’t want to. I didn’t decide to do it. It was like someone else was calling the shots, making me do things I didn’t even remember deciding to do.” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t know how to explain it. He got in my head without me even knowing he was there. It’s terrifying to know that you’re at someone else’s mercy. No control. Not just of the things around you, but yourself. He could make me do whatever he wanted. Whatever Ephraim wanted.”
“He wouldn’t let Rafe heal my leg. I think the point was to keep me in one place long enough for him to gain control of me. I eventually learned to recognize the feel of him in my head. I tried to fight him, but that nearly killed me. I had constant nosebleeds. I’d faint then wake up with a headache like the worst hangover you’ve ever had.” She tried to smile at her joke, but it fell flat. “Eventually I gave in,” she didn’t meet his gaze when she said it. She kept her eyes down, studying her hands. “It was too hard, too painful to keep fighting. I don’t know how long it took for them to break me, but it felt like an eternity.”
She finally looked up to meet Conrad’s gaze. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know it’s not enough. It can never be enough. But I’m so sorry.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but they didn’t spill over.
Conrad sat back in his chair, trying to make sense of all she’d told him. Sawyer had told him that Rafe was alive, but he still found it hard to believe. He hadn’t seen or heard from his son-in-law since before James’ birth. Everyone assumed he’d died the night Lydia had nearly been killed. He thought of his grandson. The boy had grown up without his father and now that Lydia was gone, he’d grow up without a mother as well. It was common in this place, with this war that raged around them. Still, Conrad had never truly prepared himself for the possibility that he may outlive his daughter. That he may have to be the one to raise James to adulthood. He felt his chest squeeze tighter and pushed away those thoughts. He looked back to Stella who seemed to have regained control of her emotions.
“Can you tell me anything else?” he asked her, keeping his voice neutral. “Even little details might be important.”
Stella nodded and began to speak again. “At first, he’d have me do little things to prove I was under his control. Stand on one foot for hours, run in place until I couldn’t stand, things like that. I don’t remember everything clearly. When he’s in your head, it’s like he is you.” She sighed. “I’m not explaining it very well, I know. I could always tell when he left my mind, but I couldn’t always t
ell when he was in there. It was like I was suddenly clear-headed when I hadn’t even realized I’d been in a fog before.” Her face wore a look of frustration that she couldn’t seem to find the right words to make him understand.
“It’s okay,” Conrad said. “Just keep going.”
Stella went on. “The first time they took me outside of the compound, Hastings made sure I knew the guards had instructions to shoot me if I did anything he didn’t like. Not that it mattered. Free will was long gone by then. I obeyed every command and did as I was told. That first time, I didn’t do anything but watch while the others broke into this house and kidnapped a little girl. She was maybe 8 years old. They killed her parents, but I don’t know what happened to her. I don’t know why they wanted her. I still see her face in my head. I just watched them take her and I didn’t do anything to stop it. I couldn’t.” She cleared her throat and leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on her knees. She stared down at the floor as she went on.
“The next time they took me out, I made them shoot me. I didn’t think about it or plan it. That was the key, I think. If I thought about it, he could stop it before I even tried. So, I didn’t think. I just acted. I turned invisible and grabbed the nearest guard’s gun. I shot him and one other before Hastings stopped me. One of the other guards had been watching me closer than the others though, and she got off a clean shot. She missed my heart, but it was close. I think I was hoping they’d kill me, but Hastings made Rafe heal me. After that, there was a new round of ‘training’. By the end of that, I’d almost forgotten who I was or why I didn’t belong there. I was completely in his control. I did things I know I would never have done, but I couldn’t even think about why I shouldn’t do them. That’s how deep inside my head he was.
“I never met Ephraim, but Hastings mentioned him a lot. He wanted to make sure I knew that he was the one calling the shots. I think it made him feel more important. I honestly didn’t even care at that point. I didn’t care about anything. I just did what he made me do.”
She paused to take a breath. “Hastings seemed focused on abilities. The people we went after—the ones we took—they were all Praetorian. With abilities. Some of them didn’t even know what they could do. They weren’t fighters. They didn’t know anything about this world. They’d never accessed their abilities and didn’t even know what they were. He didn’t care about that. He just wanted them.” Her eyes narrowed as she thought. “It was like he was collecting them. He kept tons of files and pictures. He would use them to track people down. I never found out why, but it couldn’t have been good. He didn’t care about killing people who tried to stop him or got in the way. I assumed he was working on Ephraim’s behalf. Regardless, he was an evil man.” She looked up and met Conrad’s gaze. Her eyes were hard when she said, “I’m glad he’s dead. I just wish I’d been the one to kill him.”
Conrad thought about her story. Then he remembered what Sawyer had told him the night before about Rafe and finding medical equipment and files. He wondered about the file on Declan’s parents. He knew it had to be connected, but he wasn’t sure how. Maybe Rowan could piece something together now that they had more information.
Everything she said about the mind control seemed to match up to Declan’s description of his own short experience with Hastings. He’d described it as doing something without deciding to do it. Declan’s ability to recognize and mimic the abilities of others had been the only thing that had saved him and the others that day. Conrad had a thought.
“What happened that day?” he asked. “In the hallway with the others? I’ve spoken to everyone else and gotten their reports. They said you stopped and dropped the gun. What happened? What made you stop?”
Stella closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Hastings made me bring him here and get him inside the facility. I don’t know if those orders came from Ephraim or if he did it on his own. By that time, it didn’t occur to me to question anything. I just obeyed. When we got inside, my orders were to find Declan Thomas and kill him. I had a photograph, but that’s all the information he gave me. I was supposed to remain unseen until he was dead. There was no exit plan. I don’t even think he planned for me to get out after. We’d barely gotten inside when Lydia and the other woman walked by me. The sleeve of my shirt brushed her arm. It was barely a hint of a touch, but she felt it. I could tell she sensed something off. I changed the plan. I decided to make them take me to Declan, but I never got the chance. I pulled my gun and showed myself. Lydia started talking as soon as she recognized me. I really don’t remember what she said, but I remember feeling a spark of recognition. Like I knew her, but my mind couldn’t latch onto the memory. I could feel Hastings prodding me to finish the mission.” She looked up and met his gaze directly. “Conrad, I swear to you, I never wanted to hurt anyone here. It was never my plan. I know that’s hard to believe after everything that happened, but I would never hurt Lydia.”
Conrad clenched his teeth and took a deep breath through his nose. He didn’t address her words. “What happened next?”
A look of disappointment flashed across Stella’s face before she looked back to her hands. “I heard someone say my name.” Her voice was quieter than it had been, and Conrad had to strain a bit to hear the words. “It was Rowan. I don’t remember what he said, but he kept talking to me, walking closer. I could feel Hastings in my head. The urge to shoot Rowan—to kill him—was so strong. It took everything I had to keep from squeezing the trigger. Declan was behind him in the hallway and he was my mission. I don’t know how I managed to drop the gun. I really don’t. I remember fighting against the hold on my mind. It had been so long since I’d put up a fight and I don’t think Hastings expected it. That’s probably the only reason it worked. The pain was worse than anything I’ve ever felt.
“When I came to, I was on the floor and Rowan was looking down at me. It was like I was coming out of a deep sleep. For the first time in so long, I was the only one inside my head and I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know where I was at first, but then I heard Hastings. He was talking to the others, controlling Declan. Rowan helped me sit up. There was more talking, then there was the sound of a gunshot and someone screamed.” She looked up and met Conrad’s gaze. “It all happened so fast, but it also felt like an eternity. Then Hastings was dead, and the hallway was crowded with people. Someone put cuffs on me and brought me here.” She took a deep breath and her gaze dropped to her hands where they rested in her lap.
There was silence for several seconds as they both thought over everything Stella had just said. Conrad had heard the same story from everyone else who’d been there that day. The accounts hadn’t varied, and he believed that she was telling him the truth as she knew it. He’d never truly believed she was a traitor, but she’d been unwilling to cooperate before tonight and he’d had no choice but to treat her as a prisoner. Now though, he had to face the reality that she’d been as much of a victim as anyone else in this war. Perhaps more so.
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” he asked her. “Why stay silent all this time?”
“It took me a while to make sense of everything—to get it all straight in my head. I’m a bit of a mess up here,” she gave a wry smile and tapped her temple with one finger. “It’s my fault. If it weren’t for me, she’d still be alive.” She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I think it was easier for me to hide in here rather than face what I’ve done.”
Conrad studied her for a long moment. She looked so much like her mother. He thought back to those early days and how lost Gwynn had been when she’d first arrived here. She’d been so strong and stubborn. She’d never admit to being afraid, but he’d known it. He could see it. He saw that same look in Stella’s eyes now and he knew she needed more than anything to know that she was safe.
“Stella,” he said, continuing when she looked at him. “None of that was your fault. Not that little girl’s family and not Lydia’s death. Whatever horrible things he m
ade you do, it wasn’t your fault. I’m the one who sent you out there that night. If I blame anyone, it’s myself.” She began to shake her head, but Conrad stalled her with a hand. “We all have guilt over things we can’t change, but we have to be able to forgive ourselves. You have to start to forgive yourself or you’ll never be whole again. It’s over. You’re home now. You’re safe. Just give it time.” Stella nodded but didn’t say anything.
Conrad stood as though getting ready to leave. “I’m giving orders to have you released. And you should talk to your mother. She missed you.”
Stella looked up at him. “Can I stay here one more night?” she asked in a small voice. “I’m not ready to…” she trailed off, but Conrad understood what she meant. She wasn’t ready to face everyone yet. The stares, the accusation in their eyes, the questions. He nodded.
“Of course. I’m going to make a formal announcement in the morning,” he said. “I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding about your innocence.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Conrad’s brows lowered as though a thought had just come to him. “Just out of curiosity,” he said. “What made you finally decide to talk to me? I thought you only wanted to speak to Rowan?”
She looked up at him with a sad smile. “He came by earlier today. I looked in his eyes and I realized I couldn’t do it.” She shook her head slowly. “I couldn’t look at him and tell him all the terrible things I’ve done. I don’t want him to see me differently, I guess. I’m a coward.” She shrugged.
Conrad gave her one last look as he turned to go. “Not from where I’m standing.”
Gwynn was waiting up for him when he came home. She was standing with her arms folded across her chest, a look of worry on her face. He met her gaze directly, forcing his lips to curve up a bit at the corners in a semblance of a smile.
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