So she’d shown him, put her hand straight through the side of the nearest jeep, watched the sergeant’s eyes widen, his mouth go slack.

She didn’t remember much after that.

“Corporal Rios.”

She looked up, saw a man standing in the doorway. He had salt-and-pepper hair, and tired eyes. “I’m the director of this facility,” he said.

“My name is Joseph Stell.”

Rios struggled to sit up.

They’d bound her ribs so tight it still felt like there was a building weighing down on her.

“Please,” said Stell. “Don’t strain yourself.” He glanced around, but there were no visitors’ chairs, so he ended up hovering next to the bed.

“You’re lucky to be alive, soldier.”

“That’s what they keep saying.”

He gave her a knowing glance. “You think it’s more than luck?”

Rios didn’t answer. There was something weighted about the

question. He wasn’t just making small talk. He knew. What she’d said to her superior, what she’d shown him.

“Do you know where you are?” pressed Stell.

“I know this isn’t a normal hospital,” said Rios. Stell didn’t deny it.

He simply nodded, looked around. “This is a place for people like you.”

“For soldiers?”

“For EOs.”

He said the word like it was supposed to mean something. It didn’t.

Her confusion must have registered, because he went on.

“Power is a weapon, Corporal. You know how dangerous those can be. It’s my job to make sure these kinds of weapons don’t hurt anyone.”

Rios shook her head. “Look, I was just doing my job. I don’t know what happened back there—what happened to me—but I’m glad it did.

It saved my life. It made me stronger. So send me back, and let me—”

“I can’t do that,” cut in Stell.

“Do you intend to keep me here?” she demanded.

“I don’t know if we could,” he admitted. “More importantly, I don’t know if we need to. I’m hoping, Corporal Rios, that you and I can reach an agreement. This is rather uncharted territory. You see, you’re the first EO who’s ever turned themselves in.”

“What was I supposed to do?”

“Most people in your position choose to run.”

“Why?” asked Rios. “I’m not a criminal.” She straightened, despite the pain. “I’ve spent my whole life running toward the fight. And now I’m just supposed to stop? To surrender? Because I survived? No. I don’t think so.”

To her surprise, Stell smiled. “You’re right. Your talent makes you stronger. It makes you . . . equipped to face a different degree of danger.

If you still want to serve your country—”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” cut in Rios.

“Then perhaps,” said Stell, “there is a way you can.”

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