CHAPTER 16

Michael forced himself to sit on the edge of the bed. His chest still felt like it was being held together by nothing more than a few stitches. Every movement hurt. Every breath. Every thought.

Or maybe that was just the sensation of his world collapsing.

He’d been so worried about a Guide tearing his family apart. Not a nondescript girl with a clipboard in one hand and a court order in the other.

It felt as if hours had passed since everyone had vacated his room, but he was sure it hadn’t been more than a few minutes. He couldn’t even remember the social worker’s name, but she’d agreed to wait in the hallway, to let him break the news to his brothers.

Some small, cowardly part of him didn’t want to do it. He wanted to beg the nurse to come back, to pump him full of painkillers and let him drift off to a land of unawareness.

He didn’t want to do this.

He didn’t want to do this.

He didn’t want to do this.

And then they were there, in the doorway, and he was going to have to do it.

A thousand words sat on the end of his tongue. He couldn’t speak. If he didn’t speak, it wouldn’t happen.

They looked so young. He could remember them at eleven and twelve, staring at him just like this, silently begging him to make everything all right.

He’d failed. He hadn’t made everything all right.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Jesus, Mike,” Nick said. He pushed past his brothers. “Are you in pain? Chris—get a nurse—”

“No,” said Michael. He choked on the word. “Just—wait.”

Wait. Stay here. If you stay here, I know you’re here and I haven’t failed.

They waited. He tried to breathe. The silence in the room pulsed with unspoken words.

They knew something bad was coming.

With each breath, the pain in his chest began to ease. Michael realized he didn’t need to clutch at the bedrail to keep himself upright. The plastic railing felt slick under his palm.

As soon as Michael realized what was happening, he wanted his brother to undo it. He wanted to rip out his stitches and break his ribs. He wanted the pain.

He met Nick’s eyes. “Stop, Nick.” His voice almost broke. “Stop.”

“I’m being careful. They won’t know.”

“Stop. Please. Just—stop.”

“Okay,” said Nick. His eyes had turned wary. And afraid. “Why?”

“I need—” He had to take another breath, and this one hurt for a reason that had nothing to do with his injuries. “I need—”

He couldn’t even finish that sentence.

I need to tell you something.

I need you to forgive me.

I need you to know I never wanted this to happen.

Gabriel finally spoke, but he kept his voice down. “What the hell is going on here, Michael? Are they arresting you? Is that why there are cops in the hallway?”

Michael shook his head. Part of him wished that was why.

There were cops in the hallway in case his brothers resisted. Or in case he did.

Nick glanced at the doorway. “Close the door.”

“No,” said Michael. “They’ll open it. Just—wait. Sit down. Wait.”

There weren’t enough chairs, but Nick and Gabriel sat, while Chris leaned against the small table beside the bed.

And they waited.

Michael wished for his parents to somehow be alive. He wished as hard as he had five years ago.

It didn’t work any better now.

What would Dad do? What would he expect Michael to do?

He’d expect you to get your act together and pretend it’s okay. Because if it’s okay for you, it’ll be okay for them.

It wasn’t okay. This would never be okay.

He wasn’t even sure he could fake it.

He looked at each of them and forced his voice to be steady. “This is temporary. I need you all to understand that.” His voice wavered, and he caught it. “This is temporary.”

“What’s temporary?” said Nick. A lick of fear had crawled into his voice. “Michael. What’s—”

“You’re all under eighteen, and we don’t have a house to live in.”

“No,” said Gabriel. “We’re fine. We can stay at Adam’s.”

“Please,” said Michael. “Please, listen to me.”

“You can’t do this,” said Chris. His voice was quick and frightened. “Becca’s mom said we can go there. We can—”

“I’ve tried,” said Michael. “I’m sorry. I tried. It’s already arranged.”

Gabriel was out of his chair so fast, it almost fell over. He glanced at the door. “What’s already arranged? What the f**k are you talking about?”

Gabriel’s anger helped steady Michael. This he could deal with. He strengthened his voice. “DFS has ordered emergency custody. You’re going to spend a few nights in a youth home, until I can get before a judge—”

“You can’t do this,” Chris said again. He was breathing like he’d run a race.

“We’ll run,” said Gabriel. His eyes were furious, and the lights in the room flickered. “They can’t keep us there. Goddamn it, Michael, I can’t believe you agreed to this—”

“I didn’t! I didn’t agree to any of it! Don’t you know I’d do anything—”

“Not enough!” Gabriel’s voice was full of fury, but his eyes were full. “You could have stopped this.”

“I tried. David tried. It’s already in motion.”

Gabriel looked at the door, then back at his brothers. “Then we can’t stay here. Nick. Chris. There’s a stairwell at the end of the hallway—”

“Stop it.” Michael had hold of Gabriel’s arms before he even realized he was on his feet. Nick’s powers had worked quickly—his body didn’t protest the motion. “Damn you, Gabriel, don’t you understand that I need you?”

Gabriel stared back at him, and under all that anger and bravado, Michael could see the little boy who was scared shitless.

“If you run, they’ll run with you. If you go along with this, they’ll go with you. Don’t you know that? I need you, Gabriel. They need you.”

His brother’s eyes were so full of fury and defiance that Michael was ready for Gabriel to jerk free and tell him to f**k off.

Instead, Gabriel’s face crumpled, and he threw his arms around Michael. “Please don’t do this. Please.”

“We’ll get through it,” Michael said. His brother’s grip made his chest ache, but this was a good kind of pain. “I promise. We can get through this. It’s just a few nights until I can get before a judge.”

“I can’t do this, Michael. I’m not like you.”

Michael’s heart broke a little at those words. “You can. I know you can.”

“What if the Guides find us?”

Michael’s greatest fear, spoken out loud. “Then you run,” he said, keeping his voice as low as he could. “You run, and you hide, and you keep your brothers safe. But that’s the only reason. Do you understand me?”

Gabriel drew back and nodded. “What if they come after you?”

“Then you stay hidden. No powers.”

“No,” said Nick. “What if they come after you?”

“Then you take care of each other.” Michael looked at Nick. His eyes were also red, his shoulders tight. “I need you, too. Someone has to keep Gabriel from veering off the rails.”

Nick nodded. “I know.”

Michael looked at Chris, who was still standing with his back against the side table. His fingers gripped the edge of the table so tightly that Michael could see white across his knuckles. “Chris—”

“We can’t stay with you anymore.” His breathing was shaky, and he wouldn’t look over. “Got it.”

“Chris—”

A gentle knock sounded at the door. The social worker was back. “How is everything going in here?”

His brothers shifted away from her, as if she were more imposing than a hundred-pound woman in a cheap wool suit.

“They’re fine,” said Michael. “They know.”

They didn’t look fine, but he kept his voice casual, and the grip of tension on the room loosened a notch.

She looked at her watch. “They’ll be finishing up dinner in the home, and from what I understand, it’s game night, so now would be a good time to head over, if everyone is ready.”

Gabriel turned steely eyes his way. Michael could read every word in his expression. Game night? Are you f**king kidding me?

Michael looked back at him. “That sounds like a lot of fun. Don’t you think?”

For an eternal instant, Michael waited for Gabriel to snap and turn this whole thing on its head. He’d done it before, and Michael could almost see him charging past the social worker and the police officers, getting thrown to the ground and Tasered, making everything three thousand times worse than it needed to be.

But then Gabriel let his shoulders drop, and he glanced at Nick and Chris. His voice was bland. “It sounds great. Come on, guys.”

And just like that, they filed out of the room.

Silence fell around Michael like a cloak. He dropped onto the side of the bed and waited for something to happen.

Nothing did.

His brothers were gone. He was alone.

CHAPTER 17

Near midnight, Hannah found herself outside Michael’s hospital room. The door was partially ajar, and the lights were off. He was curled on his side, the blanket draped over his form. The monitors cast an eerie glow on the edge of the bed, but she could tell his eyes were closed.

She slipped into the room, moving as silently as she was able. His breathing was soft and even, so she eased into the chair with barely a whisper of sound.

His eyes shot open anyway, and he shoved himself up on one arm.

“Easy,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You didn’t.” His voice was rough, and he ran a hand down the front of his face and pulled himself all the way to sitting. He must have been on a boatload of painkillers to move so easily this soon. His shoulders drooped as he looked at the door. “What time is it?”

“Almost midnight.”

He nodded, but didn’t look at her. “Do you know?” When she didn’t answer right away, he turned his head. “Do you know what they did?”

The pain in his expression took her breath away. She nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

He folded his arms across his stomach and seemed to curl in on himself. His breathing shook.

Then Hannah realized he was crying.

It took her by surprise. He was so strong—so stoic. Seeing Michael crying silently in the dark in a hospital bed surprised her as much as it would to find her father the same way.

She pulled the lever to drop the railing on her side of the bed and sat beside him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.” She put a hand on his arm gently, unsure he’d welcome her touch.

He unwound his arms and pulled her closer. It put his face against her shoulder, his arms tight around her back. She could feel him shaking. The only other person who ever clung to her like this was James, after the really terrifying nightmares.

Only this wasn’t a nightmare.

“I don’t know where they are,” Michael said, his voice thick with emotion. “They wouldn’t tell me where they were taking them.”

Hannah drew back enough to speak. “They wouldn’t tell you? Don’t they have to?”

“No. Said it was safer if I didn’t know.” He pulled back and seemed to gather himself a bit. “I’ve spent five years drilling it into their heads that I have to know where they are, and now it’s the middle of the night and I have no idea.” He glanced at the side table, then at the door. “I don’t have a phone. I can’t even call—”