Page 117 of Captured Immune

“It is. I think the Royals who killed my parents are the same ones who killed yours. Somehow, the Royals found out about ZIRDA studying some rare Ordinaries and they wanted to take the Immunes for themselves. On that rainy night, they shoved your parents down a cliff to make it look like a car accident so they could kidnap you. My theory is that my parents saved you from them.”

I gasp as it all clicks together. “That’s why they showed up at your house that night. They were looking for me.”

“Most likely. My parents must have handed you off to another ZIRDA agent to take you to your grandparents before they rushed home. That’s why I think your grandparents know something. Why else would they have moved you around every year?”

“You think they moved me around to hide me from the Royals?”

“One hundred percent.”

I ponder that for a moment, then say, “Why keep me in California though? If there were people coming after me in this state, why keep me here?”

“Unfortunately, the Royals don’t only reside in California. They’ve got people everywhere, all around the world. Unless your grandparents were going to hide you in a hole your entire life, no matter where they took you, the Royals would have found you.”

“Wow. This is a lot to process.”

“I know, and I’m sorry to throw this all on you at once, but are you ready for the last part?”

My eyes bulge. “There’s more?”

“Last thing, I promise. The articles I read about your parents’ car going off a cliff weren’t about an Aries and Bella Rance. The couple’s names were Stanley and Robyn Calder. And...” Trey clears his throat. “Their three-year-old daughter, Hannah Calder, supposedly died with them.”

Three-year-old daughter? Hannah? Died?If what Trey is saying is true, then there’s a lot more to that night in September of ’95 than I thought. This whole time, I thought my parents’ death was just a tragic car accident. Do my grandparents know what really happened? Was my name Hannah at one point?

For the next hour, Trey and I talk through theories of what could have happened that rainy night. The only thing that comes out of our conversation is that we have more questions than answers.

Trey yawns, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him do it. “Are you ready to sleep now, babe?” he asks.

“Actually”—my heart rate kicks up—“I have something to tell you too.”

He fixes his attention onto me. “What’s up?”

I haven’t had a chance to plan out my words. Like Trey said earlier, there’s no easy way to say it, so I come out with it. “I lied to you.”

His expression remains impassive. “About what?”

“There was never some guy from college.”

He presses his eyebrows together and tilts his head to the side. “Huh?”

“I never cheated on you. There was never a guy from college. I only told you that because you told me you needed a reason to let me go, so I gave it to you.”

“What? When did I say that?”

“When you were drunk.”

He pauses to think, then stares at my belly. “But?—”

I put a hand up before he can say anything about us not being able to conceive. “You said your powers are passed down by genetics, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you don’t know because it might go back a few generations, but was there ever someone in your family who could sense other people’s emotions?”

“Yes?” His eyes narrow. “Why?”

“Well, um, because, the baby—um, since the baby could do it, so could I. I sensed your heartache that night you were drunk. That was the first time. Then I could sense all those people in the Ridge too.”

He inhales a sharp breath. “What?”

---