Page 84 of Tag
I stepped behind her, wrapped my arms around her waist. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned back just enough for her head to rest against my chest.
“We’ve got one name left to uncover,” I said. “One final player.”
“And when we find them…” she whispered, “we buryeveryonetied to Chimera.”
78
Aponi
Iwas halfway through cross-referencing Chimera’s aliases when the knock came.
Three soft taps.
Then Blue’s voice came through the door. “She’s awake. And asking for you.”
I didn’t need to ask who. Lacey hadn’t spoken more than a few words since the helicopter ride. Blue said it was trauma. Shock. Survival instinct.
But something in her eyes told me she was holding onto more than fear.
Tag stood when I did. “I’m coming too.”
We walked down the hallway together, past the murmurs of Raven and Gideon, past Kaylie’s quiet click-clack at the keyboard. Everything felt still. Like the whole safehouse was holding its breath.
Blue opened the door to the med room. “She’s alert. Quiet. But sharp. Like she’s beentrained.”
I didn’t like the way she said that.
Lacey sat cross-legged on the bed, blanket around her shoulders, eyes watching everything. When she saw me, she sat straighter.
“They said you'd come,” she said.
I crossed to her, kneeling down. “Who told you that?”
She glanced at Tag, then back to me. “The woman. The one with the tattoo. She said you’d be drawn back in. That they’d bring you home.”
I stayed calm. “Why me?”
“She said you knew too much—even if you didn’t remember, they knew you would come just to save us.”
The room went silent.
Tag stepped forward. “Why would they know you’d come back to that place?”
Lacey looked up at him. “She said Aponi—Isabelle—was raised to become the perfect weapon. She said her mother raised Isabelle the way we told her to, and that if she ever woke up again, she’d ruin everything.”
My hands curled into fists.
“She’s lying,” I said.
“Maybe,” Lacey said. “But there’s more.”
She reached under her pillow, pulling out a scrap of paper. She handed it to me. Not folded. Not hidden.
Just waiting.
Written in a child’s blocky scrawl:
“Heard a man on the radio. He called her by name. Said he used to train her. Said she’d never turn against them. Said she washis daughter.”
