Page 73 of Splitting Secrets
I’m glad she chose logic instead. Regardless of what a hardass Griffin is, he’s right. We could all use some training, and it wouldn’t hurt to build up some muscles. If these past two weeks have taught us anything, it’s that we have absolutely no clue how deep everything with the Midnight Syndicate goes. Or how far they’ll take things to keep their secrets safe.
The two don’t argue while he’s here. In fact, they don’t speak at all. He walks through the door, makes a show of assessing our mismatched workout gear that Raze so generously grabbed from our dorms, then takes us to the garage and throws his duffel bag onto the ground. After a few stretches, he begins demonstrating different workouts to strengthen our core. We follow hisinstruction as closely as possible, pushing our weakened bodies to their limits.
Nearly two hours later, we have to drag ourselves back up the steps and he walks out like nothing happened. We’re so distracted by the intensity of the workouts, none of us can even think of how closely the closed garage resembles the very cells that landed us here.
The process repeats every day for a week. Each training session focuses on a different muscle group, though they get harder as our bodies struggle to recover. Griffin is a surprisingly patient teacher, never making us feel bad about not being able to do a certain workout or needing to modify things. Thankfully, I’ve got years of martial arts training under my belt and Ava is naturally athletic. It’s Beatrix and Jonah who struggle to keep up.
Halfway through the week, we convince him to let us crack open the stone door for fresh air. Within twenty minutes of all five of us moving and breathing, the garage quickly starts to feel suffocating. I still think Griffin would have held out if it weren’t for all of us pestering him nonstop. Either way, the crisp winter air is enough to encourage us to push through the end of the week.
Someday, this will all be over and I’ll never take fresh air for granted again.
Sundays are our designated rest days. By the time the first one rolls around, we can hardly lift our legs to get up the stairs for bed. Griffin comes by the house to drop off groceries for the week, and once he sees how wiped out each of us is, he returns on Monday with supplements that he claims are made by a Viridian. They smell suspiciously close to the one Raze left us in the cabin.
By Tuesday, each of us is as good as new, our muscles healed and ready to be worked again.
Outside of training with Griffin, our time is mostly our own. While we don’t have the luxury of fully stepping outside for a breath of fresh air or taking a walk around the block, the safe house still has a lot of amenities that we can’t help but be grateful for. Hot water, three meals, a warm bed—hell, we’ve even got cable and internet.
And I can’t forget that my parents are here—regardless of how weird it feels. Time has muffled the anger I had when I first discovered they’ve been lying to me. Of course, the embers of that rage still remain deep in my chest. I genuinely don’t understand how they could have betrayed me so deeply. But my initial feelings have died down enough to allow my curiosity to fester. I’ve been given a second chance, and I want to know everything about them now.
Unfortunately, they’re in a constant state of motion, either muttering things on their phones as they pass through the kitchen for a quick snack, or on their way out the door for some random meeting. The irony hasn’t been lost on me that they’re the ones who are supposed to be dead, yet they get to leave the house on a regular basis while I’ve been trapped here since the day Quinn brought us in.
With no one in a rush to tell us anything, Ava has gone on a deep dive into the logistics of my newfound gifts. I can tell she’s onto something with them, but she isn’t ready to tell me yet. She has made full use of our internet access and every moment my parents have decided to grace us with their presence. She’s taken it upon herself to learn everything she possibly can about the Midnight Syndicate—starting with how much of a reach they’ve got across the globe.
It turns out, it’s a pretty big reach.
From government officials to professional athletes to award-winning surgeons, the Midnight Syndicate has members in every arena of society. Perhaps this is why the rebellion has hesitatedto go up against them in the past. Even now, none of us can figure out how they plan to take on the task. Especially if they think I’m their best hope.
Me—a woman who has only known about my gifts for a couple months. It’s a plan doomed to fail.
Of course, we have no clue what their planactuallyis. It’s infuriating, how small they treat us. It’s even more infuriating how flighty my parents are about answering any of our questions, starting with why they think I’m the key when my mother has the same bloodline as me.
Ava has managed to track them down much easier than I have, offering little suggestions here and there for what they should do next. She thinks the rebellion needs to break the trust of the Midnight Syndicate members and any alumni from Ravenshurst University before we even step foot on the proverbial battlefield.
“To attack them from the inside out,” she told me one day.
I could tell my parents were impressed with whatever other ideas she presented to them. Since then, they’ve all been whispering plans into each other’s ears.
Raze is suspiciously absent from our daily rituals. In fact, the only other person who has made an appearance in our home besides Griffin is Theo, and I think it’s only to ensure that no one has killed each other yet. It’s a valid concern as time goes on and each of us begins to feel cooped up in our new home. Especially with the lack of windows.
I haven’t had a moment to speak level-headed with Raze privately since I told him about Bane. Last time we were together, I was too caught up in my anger and whatever is happening between us. Every day that passes, I feel guiltier about it. There were a million ways I could have handled that situation, and I chose to take my anger out on him. He deserves better than that.
Even if he is a crazed murderer who lied to me.
So, most of my days have been spent making futile attempts to speak to the people I love or alone in my room, listening to Finley drone on about his life after Lewis convinced him to leave Nocturne Valley.
“I lingered in Infinity Heights for a few months to keep an eye on the Syndicate. I was positive they would slip up and the people would find out what they’d done, leaving me an opening to ride back into town like some hero ready to save the day. But the animosity toward my family only grew, and Lewis was tired of trying to keep me away.”
He’s recounting the memory from the end of my bed, raking his ghostly fingers through Lola’s hair as she sleeps soundly at my feet. I’m staring up at my ceiling fan and recovering from the beating Griffin put me through this morning, only half-listening.
When he first saw Lola, he was terrified. I don’t know why she’s chosen my room to stay in. Every morning after I eat my breakfast, she dutifully follows me up the stairs to rest after a full night of terrorizing everyone else. Originally, I kept my door shut to keep her out, but she quickly stole Finley’s heart with her little mewls on the other side, and he bullied me into letting her stay.
I haven’t had the heart to point out that she doesn’t appear to react to his touch.
“I took a random train out to New York City one day. I figured it would be a good place to get lost in.”
“That would probably be my best bet, too,” I agree absentmindedly.
“I found a random brothel to sleep in while I searched for a place. It was much different then.” He shakes his shoulders in a comical shudder. “I took anything I could find until I ran into a plumber who was looking for an apprentice. He taughtme everything he knew, and then handed his business off to me when he was ready to retire.”
