Page 86 of Tag
Silence hit the room like a gunshot.
“She recruited me,” Aponi said quietly. “When I was seventeen. Found me after I’d been on the run. Got me into the college. Said she worked for a deep-shadow government program that helped turn lost kids around.”
Her voice cracked. “I thought she saved me.”
Lacey didn’t look up. “She didn’t. She designed you.”
Fury flashed in Aponi’s eyes. “I would’ve known. I would’vefeltit.”
Lacey finally looked up. “Did you feel like you belonged anywhere? Or did you always feel like you were still being watched?”
That shut the whole room down.
I stepped closer, voice steady. “Are you sure about this, kid?”
Lacey pointed at her drawing. A warehouse with fencing. Surveillance towers. A helipad.
“She visited once a month. Never used her real name. But I found it scribbled on a box once—Tessa Lawson. She always asked about Isabelle. Said she needed an update. Said the project wasn’t over.”
Aponi backed away from the table, her chest rising and falling in short bursts.
“I need air,” she choked out, turning on her heel and pushing out the door.
I followed her.
Out back, the desert wind whipped across the open plain, and she stood at the edge of the fence, gripping the wire like it could hold her upright.
“They built me,” she said, voice raw. “I’ve been fighting my entire life tonotbe what they wanted. And now… it turns out they never stopped pulling the strings.”
I stepped behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, resting my chin on her shoulder. “But youdidbreak away. You became something better. Stronger.Real.”
She turned into me, burying her face in my chest. “I don’t know who to trust anymore.”
“You don’t have to trust anyone else,” I said. “Just trust me. We’ll take Lawson down together.”
She nodded slowly, then looked up at me with that fire I loved. “And when we do… I want her to look me in the eye and see everything she failed to destroy.”
80
Tessa Lawson
The encrypted alert blinked twice on the burner phone before vanishing.
That was all she needed.
She smiled, slow and sharp, as she leaned back in the leather chair at the edge of the rooftop helipad. Wind tugged at her jacket. Below, lights flickered across the desert floor—motion sensors hidden in cacti, drones gliding along the perimeter, sensors buried in dirt that could hear a heartbeat from fifty feet away.
The compound was perfect.
But it wasn’t just the security that made her smile.
It was the message.
Isabelle Hartman is active.
Confirmed retrieval failed.
Engaged with the Golden Team. Preparing counterstrike.
