Soon after, they sent Kendra to talk to her and pry out the secret which was sweet but misguided. It clearly meant they believed Kendra to be the closest to her which was simply untrue. Vanessa cared for Kendra, but if they wanted to weaponize attachment, Warren should have been the first pick.

Which meant he had yet to fully inform the family of their connection. Interesting. Understandable.

Of course, even if they had sent him to cajole her into spilling, he wouldn't have been able to get this secret out of her either. Vanessa could get soft, but not that soft.

Still, Vanessa tried not to be needlessly cruel. She didn't withhold the knowledge of the secretly alive Larsens for fun. The Sorensons just didn't realize this secret was out of her hands.

Through a series of complicated and secretive and very vague means, Vanessa had already sent a message to Gloria cluing her in on her grandson's fate. She had done all she could.

The decision of if Gloria would reveal herself, when she would reveal herself, and how she would reveal herself belonged to Gloria and Gloria alone.

—

Like Vanessa did every night, she briefly inhabited the vessel of Gloria just to check that nothing had changed. No matter what accommodations Vanessa woke up in, an empty cup of tea always sat on the bedside table.

She tilted the cup towards her and scanned the sediment left by the powdered leaves. On the side of the mug, in teeny arrangements of brown dregs, read 34.

Vanessa relinquished control immediately and sat up straight in her own bed. Three days from now at 4 am, Fablehaven would receive Gloria Larsen.

Holy shit.

Three days.

<hr>

2:30 a.m. on the morning of the 14th, Vanessa banged her spoon on her cell bars until Voorsh got up and called for Stan. Ever aware of the Oculus, Vanessa whispered the plan into Stan's ear, including altering the registrar to receive their super-secret guests.

He took it well, and she sat in the quiet night wondering how everything was going above her as the clock turned to 4 a.m. Excitement pricked pins and needles in her hands at the thought of stepping back into the light after tonight. Vanessa had given them their golden ticket to victory. They had to finally appreciate her usefulness now. Recognize her value.

—

"Unfortunately, with the four of us heading to Four Pines tomorrow, we can't have you running loose. Just for the moment, we'd like to transfer you to the Quiet Box." Warren spread his hands placatingly, the lies dripping off his lips like honey.

Four Pines. Please, she knew where they were going. It had to be the prison where Seth had been kept. Just for the moment? They took her for a fool.

Vanessa pursed her lips. This was how she got treated after offering them their biggest chance at victory? No matter what she did, she couldn't seem to earn anyone's trust back. She was back in a box. A cage.

She wanted to scream and claw her skin and yell at the unfairness of it all. They weren't telling her the plan (fine), they weren't utilizing her on any missions (fine!), but putting her back in the box?

Gloria should have advocated for her, but God knows that old lady definitely did not. One did not get to be in the Society's inner circle of the Sphinx by being kind and generous. Vanessa knew that well enough, considering how much she had climbed up and up, dizzyingly close to that pinnacle.

Moreover, this request was worse now than if they had asked her to go back in the Quiet Box a week ago, because a week ago she would have still felt that she had some power—leverage in the form of that massive secret. But, now, all her cards had been played. And she remained in a cage. Regressed, even.

Well, fuck.

She raised her eyebrows and pasted on a tight smile. Hellfire remained trapped behind her teeth. "Great."

"I'm glad you understand."

Warren unlocked her cell and they began the long walk to the Quiet Box. She paused in the hallway, the deep dark shadows of the dungeon reaching out to get her. Her breathing sped up, somatic memories of the Quiet Box coming back to her tired body. "Warren?"

He glanced at her briefly, his flashlight bobbing with the movement. "Yeah?"

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Believe that you've truly defected?" The words were light on his tongue, like she had asked him why he didn't like chocolate ice cream.

Vanessa nodded.

"Well, for one, I believed you before and you ended up being a double agent," Warren said. She rolled her eyes in the darkness. "But, for what it's worth, against my better judgment, I do believe you. And if it was just my life I'd be risking, I would act on the belief immediately." Warren hesitated. "But it's the fate of my family...and the world. So, no can do."

Great.

The Quiet Box stood in front of Vanessa. She could feel the darkness approaching, the numbness, the terror of suspension in time. Queasiness rose, her mind like a hare, frantically telling her to run. Warren hadn't used cuffs. Maybe she could beat him in hand-to-hand. The thoughts crowded her logic. She didn't want to go back in. She didn't want to go back in. She didn't want to—

Warren wore an apologetic smile, his hand gesturing for her to step inside. "I'm sorry, Vanessa," he said.

She nodded and stepped in jerkily, as if a puppeteer controlled her movements. The fight left her in a woosh, the Quiet Box already reaching for control of her mind, her body, her time. Barely a whisper as he closed the door, she spoke.

"I understand."