Vanik is shaking his head. Shaking and shaking and shaking his head, as if he can’t believe it. As if he won’t believe it. He said I could help free him, but now he’s realizing the truth—I can’t help anyone. Not even myself.

Or … that’s why I presumed he was shaking his head. Until—

“It’s not possible.”

“You made the serum yourself,” I say. “If you want someone to blame—”

“No, I mean, it’s not possible,” he interrupts. He looks at Ward again, as if fearing his intervention, before he hurriedly continues, “There was a reason I was able to identify your Creator gene, Six-Eight-Four. A reason why it was the key I needed to produce a working serum when I tried for years without success. You’re unlike any Speaker I’ve ever encountered, your genetic makeup unique. The power within you, it goes beyond your words.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Ward uncross his arms and take a step toward us.

“What does that mean?” I hiss out.

“It was never about what you said; it was always about your intent.”

“I know that,” I say, my patience all but gone. “That’s how Speaking works. For everyone, not just me.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“You’re not like other Speakers, Six-Eight-Four,” he repeats urgently. “You’re not chained by the same rules. You were born different, a genetic anomaly. The daughter of two immensely powerful parents—you are a miracle of evolution. And because of that—”

Before he can finish, the door bursts open. In single file, Kael, Cami, Arryn, and Riley walk into the room, their hands clasped in front them with invisible bonds, their legs moving robotically as if tied on strings like puppets. Smith isn’t with them, but a glance through the open door reveals him still lying on the floor, unconscious. Riley, at least, looks less dazed than before, his unswollen eye blazing with blue fire until he sees our dad on the hospital bed and his face drains of color.

“Against the wall,” the security guard orders as he strides in behind them, light flaring at his Spoken command. “Don’t make a sound, don’t move.”

Despite the immense power he has at his disposal, when he turns toward me, it’s not the threat of his words that has me backing up a step.

It’s the gun he holds in his hand.

The very same gun that killed my dad.

“No,” Vanik breathes as he lays eyes on our captor for the first time. “It can’t be.”