I bite the inside of my lip and run faster down the empty hall as I picture Amell's back to me. He will never forgive me. I've betrayed him. He helped me out of the dirt, cleaned me up, gave me a place to sleep, a job, money, a moment of blind, perpetual bliss. Is this is how I repay him?

I hear the gateway slam shut, and I know that I have no choice but to go forward. My chest heaves as I reach the end of the tunnel where the goateed man waits. He pulls his mask down to reveal a grey creased face, sun freckles scattered over his tanned skin. There are black gaps amongst his teeth, and his breath wreaks of decay. He looks much older than he is, but I still keep my expectations high.

"You made it." He says.

"I did." I nod and reach for the latter leading up.

"Don't feel obligated to come because you are a Defect. We will still fight for you regardless."

"No," I hesitate and push any doubt out of my mind. I squeeze my eyes closed for a moment to block the regret that lingers in my gaze. "I want this."

"Then why are you crying?" His toothless smile is sad, and he taps his cheek.

I frown when I touch my face and wipe the stray tear away with the sleeve of Amell's suit jacket. I thought it was sweat, but I guess a sliver of my cognitive dissonance has annihilated my facade.

The man hops out of the tunnel and waits for me above the ground, "I told the men to start running without us."

I nod and climb out. Around us is a thicket of brush composed of large spruce and pine trees that climb to the deep navy speckled with glittering stars. Dirt and fallen needles replace the lush grass, and the moonlight cascades a silver blanket over the two of us.

"My name is Goatee." He croaks and pats my shoulder, "No, that's not my real name, but it's the only one I answer to. What's your name?"

"Elysia," I whisper and wrap my arms around my torso, the light breeze pricking my skin and goosebumps rise. "We should go."

"Elysia..." Goatee bends down and grabs the trap door shutting it, "We have more connections than we let on. I know you stand with us, but..."

"Where is this going?" I ask as I begin to walk where I assume north is. I raise my arm to deflect the branches which catch on my dress and scrape my legs, the souls of my feet being pricked and sliced from low branches and pine needles.

"We could use an inside man." Goatee catches up to me and presses a warm round object into the palm of my hand. I open it, and there lies a rusty silver pin, engraved is a circle with a line down the centre that stops halfway. "If you see anyone with this, it means they're an ally. We'll contact you when we need information. Having you in a top household as a maid would be beneficial for us. Although it's riskier, and if ya get caught they'll see ya to the execution block."

"You want me to stay?" I ask, a surprising wave of relief washing over me.

"I want you to know there are options." Goatee smiles and backs away.

"How will I know when to meet you?"

"Keep an eye open for the pin and meet here at this spot at midnight." Goatee sucks in a breath through the big gap between his teeth, "Y'all be a spy, and that's extremely dangerous."

"What information will I be scouting for?" I need to know if I can do this. I need to trust that Generation One won't launch attacks against innocent civilians.

"Try to find information on attack plans, but specifically, I want passcodes."

"What are the passcodes for?" I press, squinting at him.

Goatee presses his hand to his facial hair and sighs, "I wish I could tell you, but it's highly confidential."

"If you want me to trust you," I turn and slam my palm into the centre of his chest, "I need to know what I'm looking for and why."

"All I can tell ya is that we know something extremely classified that the First Gen leaders have been hidin' from society." Goatee pats the back of my hand, "Look for an 11 digit password, could have letters, symbols, numbers, anythin'."

I pause and sigh, "You should go." I drop my hand from his chest. I have no choice but to trust him. I must believe that I'm doing this for Defects and all the Generations. "I'm going to run South before heading to the manor."

"Don't get caught." He flips up his mask and gives a little wink before disappearing into the shadowy forest, silence following his departure.

"You too," I huff once he's out of earshot and sprint down the tree line. My feet carry me over the uneven ground, my foot catching on an uprooted stump. I brace for impact and clutch my stubbed toe. I cover my mouth to muffle a painful groan before pushing myself back up and running again.

The rumble of men shouting and barking orders bounces off of the distant mountains and eerily returns as a whisper. Searchlights scan the bushes and trees, my breath catches in my lungs, and I duck behind a thick trunk. I lower myself to the ground and hold my breath as a man approaches the tree I hide behind, scanning for any movement. I can hear his low even breath as if it's blowing down my spine. The terror of being caught rips through my libs, hushing them into stillness. He pauses by the tree which divides me from damnation, his presence suffocating. My anxiety triggers the tingle in my spine, and I clutch my jaw and count my breaths, focusing on my surroundings. The tingle down my spine simmers, and the antagonizing moment passes. The guard keeps walking down the bush line with a flashlight in hand. I crawl further into the forest while approaching the Southside of the manor, the opposite direction from where Goatee escaped. Hopefully, this will distract them long enough to help them get away safely.

Gathering my breath, I push off a tree I am leaning on and sprint through the cedar and pine trees to the open lawn waving my arms in the air. "HELP! PLEASE, HELP ME!"

A searchlight immediately swings in my direction, and I release the tears I've held back for so long. Fortunately, I look inconspicuous; Amell's jacket rolls off my shoulders and has a layer of thick mud. My dress's torn into intermittent shreds, I have no shoes, my face, neck, legs and feet are cut and bleeding, and I can feel my makeup running down my face. The twigs entangled in my mat of hair adds to my damsel in distress act. I fake a sob and let Amell's suit jacket slip to my elbows as I collapse to the ground. Multiple guards rush to my aid. Their arms hoist me up as they ask questions all at once.

"T-t-they t-took me!" I wipe my eyes, forcing the mascara to cloak my face. "P-please, sir! They w-went that way." I point my finger southwest trying to play dumb. In my dishevel frantic state, the pity in their eyes was unavoidable.

Shouting erupts, and a couple of dozen men begin to travel into the area I pointed. One guard stays behind and helps me up, but I wince and cripple to the ground. I check the bottom of my feet, and there is a large gash with a piece of glass sticking out. I reach over and rip it out, gasping in pain.

It reminds me of when I ran down the streets playing tag with Zale and stepped on a nail that went through my shoe and into my foot. He had to give me a piggyback home and rationed our food supply for a week to pay for the tetanus shot. Pa was furious with us, but we always joked that even a nail didn't stop me from running from him.

The man sighs and lifts me in his arms effortlessly. I tense at his touch and avoid his face, worried that seeing his uniform will cause my powers to snap.

"I've got you, El." The guard says in a familiar gruff voice.

I look at his face as the searchlight illuminates Zale's earnest features. My brows turn up into relief as I wrap my arms around his neck, squeezing him close. His familiarity instantly eases my worries, and I relax in his arms. I am not worried about his uniform or what he stands for because my friend is here with me.

"Thank you," I whisper and cling onto him. I know he's still upset at me, but the fact he's willing to put that to the side, for now, is a relief.

"Still impaling your foot with sharp things, I see." Zale brings me into the ballroom, where the majority of the people are getting checked on. The grand windows are open, but still, the warmth causes my toes to sting. The cool air must've numbed the pain temporarily because the heat has made me hyper-aware of each wound on my body. I suck a breath in through my teeth and try to relax.

"Elysia?" Milly drops a bundle of bandages and rushes to me. "My goodness... I need a metic now!"

A few paramedics rush over and try to place me on a stretcher. Zale pulls me away slightly, hesitating before setting me down. They bring me away from the crowd and examine my wounds, poking at my foot, taking out the pieces of glass or stones.

Bianca brings water and food to patients before spotting me and rushing over, "Will she be alright?" Bianca turns to me and bends down, "Are you alright?"

"She will be fine, Miss Robin. It's mostly minor abrasions. Nothing looks life-threatening." One paramedic grabs a needle and flicks it. "We are going to give her quick tetanus shot to ensure that she'll be fine."

"No!" I smack the needle away and shift to the end of the bed, trembling.

"Hey, you." Zale takes my other hand and turns my face to him. "I know you hate needles, so you need to focus on me and practice what we did when you got that nail in your foot when we were ten."

I give my arm to the medic while holding Zale's hand and shut my eyes as they inject the needle. I wince and whisper under my breath, "Third Gen's are steel and bones, steel and bones."

"Steel and bones." Zale squeezes my hand back. I open my eyes as the needle's removed.

"Elysia, do you know where Amell is?" Milly rubs a bandaid on my needle mark and brushes the hair from my eyes. "William told me you were the last to see him."

"What?" I turn to her, my eyes widening, "He isn't back?"

Everyone is quiet, and they all look at each other. I fly out of the stretcher, but Zale catches my arm.

"Sit down, El." He drags me back, "I'm sure he's fine."

"What if he isn't?" I rip my hand from his and bolt towards the large, arched exit leading out of the room.

I stop in my tracks when Amell walks around the corner, his green eyes red and puffy, head down and face pale. He looked drained and empty as his hand runs through his thick ebony hair. He appears distant and remote despite only being five feet from me. Amell raises his eyes, and they catch on me immediately.

Disbelief and hope brighten his face as he takes a step forward, "Elysia?"

I smile, and a tear slips down my cheek, "I'm a fool."

Amell releases the breath held in his chest as he rushes to me. I open my arms and walk towards him with a slight limp as he crashes into me. He burrows his face into my neck as his arms enclose themselves around my waist. His hand reaches my head and pulls it into his chest.  In turn, I bring a hand to his head and pet his hair down.

"I forgot to give you your jacket back," I whisper and pull away, feeling an increased pressure of eyes land on us.

He cups my face and rests his forehead on mine, "Keep it for all I care."

Zale clears his throat and looks at me unimpressed. "Get back on the stretcher."

Amell takes my arm and wraps it around his shoulder, acting as a crutch. I make my way back to the stretcher and sit down as the medics sterilize my wounds. I find myself much more at ease with everyone safely at my side. I peek at each person, their conversation flowing into the background. I make eye contact with Bianca, who looks from me to Amell before back to me.

The sudden realization dawns as I realize that my intimate embrace with Amell may have turned his fiance from a friend into an enemy.