I’m not sure how far the hallway stretched, because we stopped before we reached the end. A nondescript door, same as the others. Reinforced steel. Malia was nearly eye level with me in her high-heeled boots. Taller than Cassie by a few inches, looking very matronly standing there with her hands clasped before her. “Who wants to go first?” she said.

Cassie and I looked at each other. “First, where? For what?” I asked.

“To see Rox.”

“Me,” Cassie said.

“Wait, hold on,” I said. “We’re going together.”

Malia shook her head. “I’m afraid not. It’s one at a time or not at all.”

Physically harming her would get us nowhere, but it’s all I could think to do. Wrench her frail arm behind her back and threaten to break it. “I want to meet Mr. O, or whoever the fuck is behind this,” I said, my voice trembling.

“Watch what you wish for,” Malia said, and it caused the hairs on the back of my neck to prickle. The fear and sadness in her engineered eyes.

“Look, I don’t care,” Cassie said. “I just want to see my son. Please, take me to him.”

I could see the pain this was causing her, and didn’t want to prolong it with my puny negotiations. “Do it,” I said, and Malia nodded.

“Follow me,” she said, opening the door and ushering Cassie through, leaving me alone in the silent tunnel with my worries and toxic thoughts. Certain I was being abandoned again.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

You’re never really alone, even when physically isolated. Rocket up to the moon and you’re still stuck with your mind. That chattering blob of negativity. Conjuror of doomed futures. Reminder of past mistakes. You think you control it until it turns on you and you realize how powerless you truly are. Where do those voices come from? Why can’t we shut them up?

Dark thoughts chiseled at my resolve as I sat in that cold, empty tunnel. Alliances were being made without me. My fate was being decided by a jury of enemies. I had lost my agency, my testimony. Sitting in this hallway like a kid scolded for acting up in class.

Sometime later, maybe an hour, though it felt longer, the door reopened and Malia stuck her head through. “Okay. Your turn,” she said, and my legs began to shake.

“Where’s Cassie?”

Malia considered the question. “Recovering,” she said.

Am I ready to see this? Are you?

I followed Malia into a windowless sitting room, everything grey, the carpet, the cloth chairs. Doors in three of the walls, nothing on the fourth. Malia pointed to the door on my right. “That’s where you go to see Rox. I’ll wait here.”