The door to the penthouse didn’t open; it exploded inward under the force of my shoulder.

  I burst into the entryway, the taser already in my hand, my center of gravity low, ready to gut the first tactical agent I saw. The wolf screamed Threat. The room whispered Lemon Pledge.

  “Get down!” I shouted, swinging the bat I’d grabbed from under my bed in a wide arc, aiming for the kneecaps of the invisible intruders.

  The bat hit nothing but air. The taser buzzed through empty space.

  Silence greeted me.

  Not the heavy, loaded silence of an ambush. Just… silence. The kind that smells like lemon polish and slow-cooked pot roast.

  I froze, chest heaving, weapon raised. My eyes darted around the living room.

  No overturned furniture. No shattered glass. No black-clad goons holding my family hostage.

  Just the panoramic view of the Chicago skyline twinkling innocently through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and a throw pillow that had fallen off the beige sofa.

  “Nikki?”

  Mom stepped out of the kitchen. She was wearing an apron over her silk blouse—some floral thing that looked like it cost more than my entire existence—and holding a wooden spoon. She stared at me, then at the bat, then at the knife.

  “Honey,” she said, her voice calm but confused. “Is that… are we doing some kind of new cheer routine? With weaponry?”

  My legs went numb.

  I lowered the bat. The taser clicked off, a sound that seemed too loud in the quiet room.

  “Mom,” I choked out. “You’re… you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, blinking. “I’m making a roast. Is everything alright? Nikki? You're pale. And you're armed.”

  I sagged against the doorframe. My hands shook. The bat clattered to the floor.

  “Handy,” I subvocalized, my thought sharp with accusation. “Report. Now. Where are they?”

  “There is no one here, Nikki,” the AI whispered in my ear. His tone was dry, almost bored. “As I attempted to inform you three times while you were sprinting through the lobby, thermal scans of the penthouse are negative. There are no Pandora Corp agents inside the building.”

  “But the SUV…” I thought back, panic flaring again. “The hover SUV outside.”

  “It departed four minutes ago,” Handy replied. “It did a perimeter sweep and moved on. You ignored the notification. You were… highly agitated.”

  I closed my eyes, letting my head thump back against the wall.

  It wasn't a trap. It wasn't an invasion.

  It was just me.

  I had nearly induced a cardiac event and prepared to commit a triple homicide because I had let the paranoia take the wheel. I had overreacted. Completely and totally overreacted.

  “I hate when you’re right,” I whispered to the AI.

  “I know.”

  “Nikki?” Mom took a step toward me, the wooden spoon lowering. “Did you saw father and Jackie?”

  “No,” I said, my voice trembling. I was cold. Sweat dried on my back. “Aren’t they here?”

  “They went to the movies,” Mom said, checking her wrist-comp. “Jackie insisted. You know how she loves anything with capes and explosions.”

  Safe.

  They were safe. They were sitting in a dark theater, eating synthetic popcorn, completely oblivious to the fact that I was hyperventilating in the hallway.

  I walked into the living room, my legs feeling like they didn't belong to me.

  “Right,” I said. “Movies. Good.”

  I collapsed onto the sofa. The leather was cool against my back. I stared at the ceiling, trying to get my heart rate to drop below triple digits.

  The wolf curled up in the back of my mind, grumbling about wasted energy and the lack of bloodshed.

  Mom watched me for a second, then turned back to the kitchen. “I’ll get you some water. You look dehydrated.”

  She returned a moment later with a glass of ice water. She set it on the coffee table, then sat down next to me. She didn't say anything at first. She just picked up the fallen throw pillow and fluffed it, placing it back in its designated spot.

  “So,” she said softly. “Do you want to tell me why you burst in here ready to fight a war?”

  I picked up the water. My hand shook so hard the ice clattered against the glass.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  “Just… stress,” I lied. The word felt like sandpaper. “Intense stress. Coach Reynolds is crazy.”

  Mom looked at me. She has these eyes—pale blue, sharp, seeing everything I try to hide. She reached out and tucked a strand of white hair behind my ear.

  “Nikki,” she said. “I’m your mother. I know the difference between ‘tired from practice’ and ‘heartbroken’.”

  I couldn't hold it. The sob ripped out of my chest, ugly and loud.

  The tears hit my eyes so fast they burned. My throat closed up. The tightness in my chest, the one I’d been ignoring since the rooftop, the one I’d buried under layers of paranoia and adrenaline, suddenly expanded until it filled my whole body.

  I put the glass down before I dropped it.

  “I messed up, Mom,” I whispered.

  “Oh, honey.”

  She pulled me in.

  I buried my face in her shoulder. The smell of expensive perfume and roast beef made me gag. I sobbed. Ugly, jagged sobs that shook my ribs.

  I cried because of the fear. I cried because of the secret I was keeping. I cried for the wolf.

  But mostly, I cried for the boy in the gray hoodie walking away from me on the roof.

  “I broke up with him,” I gasped between sobs. “I told him to leave. I told him he was boring.”

  Mom rubbed my back, making soothing shh-shh noises. “Danny? The boy with the motorcycle?”

  I nodded against her shoulder. “He… he didn't do anything wrong. He was perfect. He was…”

  He was the only one who knew.

  “He was special,” I finished weakly. “But he’s gone. He’s really gone this time.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  I pulled back, wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my leather jacket. The leather was tough, unyielding. Just like I tried to be.

  “Because it’s safer,” I said. It was the truth, but it sounded hollow in the warm living room. “For him. I… I have so much going on. The squad. School. The… pressure. I thought if I cut him loose, he’d be better off. I thought I was protecting him from my… mess.”

  Mom sighed. She reached over and grabbed a tissue from the box on the end table, handing it to me.

  “Oh, Nikki. You always try to carry everything yourself, don’t you? Just like your uncle.”

  The mention of uncle stung. “I just didn't want him to get hurt.”

  “And how is he now?” Mom asked gently. “Is he unhurt?”

  I pictured Danny’s face. The way the light had died in his eyes when I called him boring. The slump of his shoulders.

  “No,” I whispered. “I hurt him. I hurt him bad.”

  “See?” Mom took a step toward me. “You can’t protect people from life, Nikki. And you certainly can’t protect them by breaking their hearts. That’s just a different kind of injury.”

  I stared at our joined hands. Mine were rough, callous from the pom-poms and the climbing. Hers were soft, manicured.

  “I think it was a mistake,” I admitted. The confession felt heavy, like dropping a stone into a well. “I think I pushed away the only person who actually… got me.”

  “You said Danny is gone. Do you mean he went home? Or is he… gone?”

  I swallowed hard. “I don't know where he went. I think… I think he might have left the city. Or gone underground. He’s hard to find if he doesn’t want to be found.”

  Mom nodded slowly. “Then that changes things. You can admit it was a mistake, and you can want to fix it. But unless you can contact him—unless you can actually find him—you have to be realistic.”

  I felt a cold knot form in my stomach. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that sometimes, we make choices we can’t unmake,” she said gently. “You can’t fix a relationship with a ghost.”

  I absorbed her words. They weren't the comforting platitudes I wanted. They were hard truths.

  I had pushed him away. And in doing so, I might have pushed him out of my reach forever.

  “But what if I can find him?” I asked, my voice small. “What if I try?”

  “Then you try,” Mom said. “But until then… you have to breathe. You have to eat. You have to keep going.”

  I took a deep breath. The air in the penthouse felt lighter, but the weight in my chest hadn't vanished. It had just shifted.

  I had overreacted about the agents. I had been wrong about the danger in the building. But I wasn't wrong about the danger of losing Danny.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I whispered.

  I leaned over and hugged her. She hugged me back, fierce and tight. It was a grounding wire, connecting me back to the earth, pulling me out of the spiral.

  “Anytime, baby,” she said into my hair. “Now. Go wash your face. You have raccoon eyes. And put that bat away before you trip your father when he gets home.”

  I laughed. A weak laugh, but real.

  “Okay.”

  I stood up. I felt… steady. Not fixed. Not happy. But steady.

  I grabbed the bat and my bag.

  “I’m gonna go get ready for dinner,” I said.

  “Wash up,” Mom called as I headed for the stairs. “Roast is almost done.”

  I walked up the stairs to my room.

  The door was locked from the inside—a feat of electronic engineering I’d rigged myself. I scanned my thumbprint and slipped inside.

  The room was dark, lit only by the ambient glow of the city outside.

  I tossed the bat onto the bed and walked over to the window. I pressed my hand against the cool glass, looking out at the sprawling, neon-lit grid of Chicago.

  Somewhere out there, in the smog and the shadows, was Danny.

  I didn't have the Black Box. I had made sure that was secure, far away from here. But without it, and without him, I felt strangely exposed.

  “Handy?” I whispered.

  “I’m here,” the AI replied. “System diagnostic complete. We are green across the board. No hostiles detected.”

  “Good.”

  I looked at my reflection in the glass. I looked tired. Paranoid.

  Mom was right. I couldn't protect everyone by pushing them away. And I couldn't fix this if I couldn't reach him.

  “Handy,” I said, turning away from the window. “Keep a passive scan on the perimeter. Low power. Don’t alert me unless something actually breaks a window or breaches the lobby. No more false alarms. No more overreacting.”

  “Understood,” the AI said. “And Nikki?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You should eat. Your cortisol levels are spiking.”

  “I’m going,” I muttered.

  I walked to the mirror and wiped the smudged eyeliner from under my eyes. I fixed my hair.

  I wasn't safe. Not really. The monsters were still out there. The static was still in the air. The Pandora SUV had been real, even if it had left.

  But for tonight, the door was locked. The family was home. And I had a harsh reality to face.

  I had driven Danny away. Now, I had to figure out if I could ever get him back, or if I had to do what Mom said: move on.

  I took one last look at the empty room, wishing the phone in my pocket would buzz, wishing for a sign that I hadn't ruined everything.

  Silence answered me.

  The city lights blurred. I touched the cold glass. Waiting.