After the attack that night, Ryan was locked up in the very cell he had once imprisoned us. The tables had turned, and now it was his turn to be interrogated. Michael wanted to run the questioning alone with him, he needed to understand how a person who trusted so much had turned out against him.

We waited outside for hours. The sounds of shouting and crying seeped through the walls, and when Michael finally got out, his face was contorted.

Apparently, Ryan's sympathy for the Reg Society began after a trusted Phoenix soldier killed his brother. They had tracked him using drones and they entangled him with the false promise of advanced technology that could bring his brother back. Pain and false promises, it's a powerful mix for stealing someone's will.

We also discovered that the Reg Society was completely unaware of the threat Heather was for The Orb, and in a desperate attempt to stop her, Ryan had tried to get rid of her without any real plan.

That meant that Heather's mother had been incredibly tight-lipped and we played with advantage. We were the only ones with that crucial information that could change the course of humanity. None else knew.

However, nothing of that mattered if the key piece of all wasn't on board: Heather. Once more, we all depended on her.

We waited a few days before bringing up the topic again; we all needed time to digest the recent events. Michael was hurt by Ryan's betrayal and Heather was distant, spending her time wandering, swimming in the lake, and barely speaking to me. I decided to give her space and took the time to dive into everything Michael knew about the supposed algorithm Heather had in her implant. Anika also helped me understand how we should execute the plan if we decided to go through with it.

The truth was, that Heather would bear most of the risk, and it pained me to think about what it would mean for her. The Reg Society was the only world she'd ever known, and now she was being asked to turn against it. Sure, she had her reasons, but it was still unclear how she felt about her past, the system she was raised in, and especially her mother. I felt similarly conflicted when my parents died and Michael and I crossed the border, going against their wishes.

Why did Heather have to shoulder the burden of "saving" humanity? Hadn't she done enough already working at the border for years? All I wanted was to see her happy. If it were up to me, we'd ditch this whole mess and start that swimming club with apple pie sales we used to joke about. At that moment, that seemed like the most perfect plan of all.

Late in the afternoon, I found her lying in her bed in the common house. Her beautiful wavy strands were splayed over the pillow in a cascade of silken waves.

"Already out? It's pretty early." I said sitting on the edge of her bed.

She didn't answer so, I lay next to her.

"Hey," I said softly, running my fingers gently along her back and tracing her spine. "You know, you don't have to do this. You don't owe anyone anything."

Heather slowly turned to face me. Her cheeks were flushed with a soft pink, and her eyes had that familiar, thoughtful glimmer that always showed up when she was deep in thought.

"I know. The mission isn't what's bothering me." She said.

"Then what is it?" I asked.

Heather took a deep breath, hesitated, and then, as if she were about to confess a crime, said, "I'm not sure I want to recover my memories."

I frowned. "But you've been wanting to find your relatives for so long."

Heather nodded nervously. "Yes, but what if the memories are terrible? What if I discover things I wish I hadn't? What if my mother wasn't the person I hoped she was?" She said.

"Hey, slow down." I sat up a little more, turning to face her fully, and took her hand. "I get why you're scared. I'd feel the same way. But having both good and painful memories with my parents, I can tell you I wouldn't trade them for anything."

"But what if those memories change me? I've built my identity around the person I thought I was, and now... what if it's all wrong?" She said, gesturing emphatically as if it were necessary to reinforce the complexity of what she was trying to explain.

"There's nothing wrong with you. You're perfect as you are. And we don't have just one true identity, we're layered. Look at me! I was born here, then crossed the border and became a Narval Officer. I'm part of both worlds now, and I wouldn't change it because it brought me to you."

Heather smiled for a moment, but it didn't last. "I get what you're saying, but it's different for me. At least you always knew where you came from. I feel like I'm going to lose myself."

"You won't." I said firmly. "You are incredibly strong, Heather. It shocks me that you tend to forget that. You've faced so much already, and I know it's terrifying to think that what you uncover might shake everything you know. But that shake could help you make sense of everything."

Heather's eyes seemed to ponder my words. She took a deep breath and clenched her fist. "The only thing bigger than my fear right now is the fucking anger I feel for what they did to me."

"You have every right to be furious." I said.

"Who the hell did they think they were?!" Heather said, her eyes blazing.

A voice came from the doorframe. "I was furious too."

Heather and I looked up to see Michael standing there, his expression softer than usual, no Rowand vibes. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, "I just wanted to check in, and I happened to overhear the conversation.

Heather sighed, she wasn't happy to see him. "You heard all that?" She said.

Michael nodded. "Yeah, I did."

Heather let out another more resigned sigh and let her head fall back onto the pillow. "Great."

Michael walked in and took a seat on the bed across from us. "'I was furious about everything I learned about the Reg Society too. They deceived us all. But I believe your fears might ease once you see the message."

"What message?" I asked.

"The one her mother left before she was killed, the reason why we knew we had to look for her." Michael clarified.

"I don't want to see it." Heather said.

Michael closed his eyes disappointed. "You need to. It might not solve everything, but it could give you some clarity or at least some peace."

Heather sat up from the bed and took a seat on the edge. Her thoughtful eyes shifted from the floor to Michael and then to me. Maybe she was scared, but what I saw more clearly in those intense eyes was the raw, uncontrollable anger building up inside her.

"How could they do that to me?" She burst out with rage.

Michael nodded, acknowledging her pain. "The question is, what will you do with the truth once you have it?"

"I don't know. I might kill someone after hearing the message." Heather said as if it were a minor concern.

"I know you won't," Michael replied. "But I just thought of something that might be useful to us right now." He glanced at me with a small, knowing smile that I didn't quite get. "Come with me, you two."

We went outside and as we reached a dense area of white, hollow, and dry trees, I immediately understood what Michael had in mind. My chest swelled with excitement. Michael stepped into the midst of several white trees and said, "Grace and I used to have a way of letting off steam when we were kids."

He then turned to me. "Remember this place?"

"How could I forget?" I said, running my hand along one of the trees. Heather looked at us, still puzzled.

"Watch this," Michael said. Then, as quick as a leopard, he kicked one of the white logs, sending it shattering into pieces.

"What the heck?!" Heather exclaimed.

Michael smiled at her shocked expression. "All the white trees are hollow inside. They're infected with a disease that can spread to others. The only way to stop it is by smashing them. When we discovered that, we also found it was surprisingly therapeutic."

"Are fucking with me?" Heather asked, incredulous.

"What? Are you too fancy for this?" I teased, then leaped onto a cracked log and brought my foot down hard. The thrill of shattering the wood beneath me and the gratifying crack of the splintering pieces was unbeatable.

"There's something about the raw, physical act of destruction that helps clear the mind. It's not a solution, but it can help you cope." Michael said offering a piece of a log to Heather.

"Years of human development and technology, and here we are, smashing logs to feel better," Heather said with a wry smile. "It's kind of ironic."

"It's also pretty awesome." I replied.

We exchanged a knowing look, and then the destruction began. I swear, if someone had seen us, they would have thought we were a bunch of mentally unstable people possessed by the devil. But honestly, it was totally worth it. We ended up laughing our heads off, and I exchanged a few of those old, mischievous glances with Michael, the kind we used to share when we were kids.

Despite her initial doubts, Heather ended up taking it very seriously, and soon she was completely caught up in the spirit of destruction. I caught Michael watching her, both surprised and intrigued by her precise and explosive kicks. Who wouldn't be?

"Now I get why Grace never wants to make you angry." He said to Heather.

"What?" I said, immediately stopping mid-strike just inches away from a poor log. "I never said that."

Heather laughed. "She can be pretty intimidating too..."

"Yeah, tell me about it!" Michael said, kicking another log. "She used to come up with these scary stories just to make me do what she wanted."

"Oh, come on, Michael. You're not still holding a grudge about that, are you?" I said.

Heather's eyes sparkled and a smile crossed her face. "I had no idea. Please, tell me more."

Michael grinned. "Grace had a special talent for turning mundane chores into epic quests with terrifying consequences if I didn't follow through."

I shook my head, smiling despite myself. "You were so gullible. Any big sister would have taken advantage of that."

"Don't pretend like it was justified!" He said. "I spent a week without sleeping because of the Wrinkle Wraith."

"The Wrinkle Wraith?" Heather asked.

"The Wrinkle Wraith!" I said, now remembering. "One of my classic creations."

Michael nodded, raising an eyebrow. "According to ten-year-old Grace, The Wrinkle Wraith would steal your clothes if you didn't fold them right after they were dry. And if it collected enough, it would come for you next."

Heather burst out laughing. "That sounds both brilliant and cruel!"

Michael gave me a wry smile.

"I did you a favor! You became a master at watching the clothes dry and folding them in record time." I said with a grin.

"I think you just intensified my urge to smash things." Michael said.

I playfully blinked at him. "You're welcome."

Michael laughed while Heather placed a log in front of her, but Michael signaled her to wait. "How about I throw it into the air, and you kick it while it's moving?"

Heather's eyes lit up with excitement. "Let's do it."

And just like that, the two I loved most were spending time together as if nothing had ever happened. I knew it was too early to celebrate, but seeing Michael and Heather chatting and laughing together made my heart swell with tenderness.

· · ·

As the night fell, we all gathered in the Phoenix Group's common room to watch Heather's mom's message. After finally clearing out the old, rotting logs Heather told us she was ready.

Michael had everything prepared. We used an old hologram projector from twenty years ago because the message was stored in a tiny, round capsule that only worked with that vintage model. Anika placed it on top of the projector, making it float as it started to play.

"Ready?" Michael asked, looking at Heather, who was tense but as composed as when she was the border lead.

"Ready."

Anika turned off the lights. Michael switched on the projector, and a soft, bluish light emanated from it, projecting a silhouette that slowly began to gather more detail. I discreetly held Heather's hand, and she squeezed mine in return. Silence settled over the room. The silhouette solidified. Heather's breath caught in her throat. Long wavy brunette strands began to take shape. That was the first thing I saw. Followed by the familiar features I knew and cherished so well. Her eyes. Heather's eyes. Unmistakable. There was no doubt, it was her mother. 

Hey you! Yes, you! Thanks a ton for reading! 😊 (I'm doing a happy dance over here!) 🎉

Heather will finally "meet" her mother! Let's see what she has to say in the next chapter! 

BTW what's your favorite way to let off steam? As a swimmer, I let it all go by swimming as fast as I can and breaking through the water with each stroke. What about you?

Love you!! 💖

Ava💫