“Sorry,” she whispered. “But look, I got it!” She thrust a piece of paper under my nose, and I glanced down to see a detailed map of the campus. On it were tiny red Xs. On the top of the page were the words “BUTTERFLY DETECTION PROTOTYPE INSTALLMENT” in large block letters. I ran my finger from one X to the next, mentally picturing where each of these deadly explosives was sitting.

“Regan?!” came a surprised cry, and we both jumped, looking up to see Regan’s mom standing silhouetted in the doorway of the office.

“Mom!” Regan said, and practically flew across the room and into her mother’s surprised arms. Commander Fitz hugged Regan back, looking from her to me and back again. Her eyes widened a moment later when she noticed the mess of papers strewn across the floor.

“Regan?” she said. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” Regan stepped back as tears ran down her face. But of course; she’d been told her mother was dead just hours ago. Now here she was talking to her again. “You weren’t outside, were you?” her mom asked. “There was a Butterfly alert not five minutes ago, I just got the alert . . .” Her words trailed off as she looked at us, taking in our dripping-wet pajamas and dirt-smudged faces. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “You two aren’t . . . You can’t be . . .”

“I’m really sorry about this, Mom. You know how training drills are. I’ll explain later,” Regan said, and at first I thought she was apologizing for being a Butterfly, but then Regan whirled and grabbed the glass shadow box holding her mother’s famous Chaos Cuffs and smashed it on the floor. The box shattered with a resounding crack, and I threw my hands up as needle-sharp splinters of glass sprayed in all directions. By the time I put my hands down, Regan had already snatched the cuffs out of the box and had one around her mom’s wrist and the other around the leg of the desk.

“What are you doing?!” Commander Fitz cried, her voice high and panicked as she yanked at the cuffs. Regan raced back to the desk to grab the map she’d left behind and then ran to the office window. I, however, was still standing there frozen at the sight of Commander Fitz cuffed to her own chair.

“Elliot!” Regan said, and I shook my head and raced for the window. Regan was already halfway out of it, but then she paused and looked back at her mom.

“I love you,” she said, and I felt my face burn red. I shouldn’t be here for this. If only the office window was big enough to squeeze past Regan and out into night. But since it wasn’t, I just stood there as Regan’s mom stopped struggling to get loose and stared back at her daughter.