“If her path to happiness means weirdness, or blackmailing her parents, or staying up late tinkering, then I’ll support that,” Ashley said. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think it does require those things. But if it did or if it does in the future, I wouldn’t necessarily stand in her way.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

Byron, Rain, and Theo came back, walking down the hall. They didn’t slow down as they got closer to the gang.

I thought about my options. How hard I could hit people, how fast I could move with flying without betraying that I was using powers. I stood and stretched, so I’d be ready. Vista pushed herself up from a position where she was sort of lounging to a proper sit.

Looking at all of us, the gang leader with the shawl braid nudged her lieutenant. Without a word exchanged, the gang broke up, a good portion of them walking off in the direction of the showers.

It wouldn’t stay that easy.

I’d had Kenzie reach out to Citrine, and Citrine would apply a bit of pressure. The Wardens would surely do the same. Hopefully.

That gave us a clock, a period of time where we needed to play by their rules and avoid getting caught in their traps. We could give them no video evidence, nothing that could be cut out of context, and no excuses. If we did, then they would move for harsh punishment.

Kenzie had confirmed they didn’t have audio. They did have video. They kept tabs on us with soldiers, and with her eyes on the camera, she’d confirmed that some prisoners had entered the facility, possibly from another similar building, some of them were like the gang leader with the braided scarf, arriving dressed and acting like veterans with some clout.

And, Kenzie had observed, using the cameras, that these people had gone straight from the entryway, a different one than we’d used, to find us. Now they remained in our periphery.

They would adapt. As the clock ran down, they’d be more willing to force an imperfect conclusion over a perfect one.

I sat back down on my cot, being careful not to disturb Sveta, who was sleeping. Beneath the two blankets she’d draped over herself, her body had partially disassembled, shoulder and ribcage dissolving into straps so she could more easily lie ‘flat’ on the angled hallway.

Byron looked over at Vista, who had stolen his mattress, and then started to look for another.

“A lot of the other mattresses are damp or cold,” Vista told him.

“Then you keep that one. I can endure the cold and the wet with my power.”

“Don’t be dumb, Byron,” she told him.

I watched him hem and haw for a second.

“Not dumb,” he said. “Just…”

“Complicated,” Rain volunteered.

Byron nodded.