Family Secret

Chapter 14

The bell finally rang, and the scratching of quills and shuffle of papers ended. The exam was over. Ryan’s stomach sank like a stone. He didn’t even look at his answers before handing them in—what was the point? The dread sat heavy in his chest, thicker with every step toward the door. Facing Nate would be worse than any exam.

The hallway filled with laughter and light feet pounding against polished floors. Children bolted from the classroom, rushing into the arms of their waiting parents. Ryan hung back, dragging his feet, his head bowed low. He didn’t dare lift his gaze, not when he could already feel Nate’s sharp presence at the end of the corridor like a blade waiting for him.

Beside him, Kyan skipped and hummed, twirling her braid around her finger as though the test had been a game and she had just won a prize. She beamed when she spotted Nate and Alexia standing together near the exit.

Ryan clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to glance up at Nate. He kept his eyes fixed on the polished floorboards as they approached.

“How did it go?” Nate asked, his tone clipped and precise.

Ryan’s teeth ground together. “Wonderful,” he muttered.

The word tasted sour, bitter. And from the way Nate’s brow twitched, Ryan could tell he wasn’t buying it.

Before the silence grew too heavy, Alexia’s voice cut in, smooth and disarming. “You tried your best. That’s what counts.”

Ryan risked a glance up and saw her smiling at him. It wasn’t the cold, calculating smile she wore when others were watching—it was softer. Genuine, maybe. She lifted her hand as if to pat his shoulder, but Ryan’s body betrayed him. He flinched.

It wasn’t fear. Well, maybe a little—she was an assassin, after all. But more than that, it was because he wasn’t used to it. At the orphanage, a hand raised meant pain: smacks, punches, things hurled across the room. The only warmth he’d ever known came from Kyan’s small hand squeezing his when the world felt unbearable.

Alexia seemed to understand. She withdrew her hand but didn’t let the smile falter. “Let’s get some ice cream to celebrate.”

Nate’s brow furrowed. “We don’t even know if they got in yet.” His voice was flat, skeptical.

Alexia’s shoulders lifted in a careless shrug. “I bet they got in. You’ll see.”

But Ryan caught the flicker in her eyes. Behind that calm exterior, her mind was already working. He could feel it even without reading her thoughts—though curiosity tugged him until he slipped quietly into her mind. Her plan unfurled before him like an open book. She would sneak into the school after hours, find their tests, and switch the answers to the right ones. Nate only needed her so long as the children were inside the academy. If they failed, she would be expendable, and their fragile arrangement—this fake marriage—would shatter.

But there was more. Cisco Monroe. His child was here, attending this very school. Alexia’s mind worked like clockwork, each gear snapping into place. What better way to keep eyes on Monroe than to ensure her “children” became friends with his son?

Ryan’s brow furrowed. Miguel.

Nate’s jaw tightened as his gaze cut to Alexia. Ryan shifted his focus, slipping into Nate’s mind. And there it was—confirmation. Nate had the same plan. He, too, intended to sneak in and fix the tests. He, too, saw the importance of Miguel Monroe.

Ryan swallowed hard, unease curling in his gut. Why did they both want him and Kyan tied to that boy so badly?

The silence stretched until Nate finally exhaled, resigned. “Fine. Let’s go get some ice cream.”

Kyan squealed in delight. She threw her arms around Nate’s waist, bouncing up and down. “You’re the best daddy in the world!”

Nate sighed, his hand landing stiffly on her back, patting her once. Twice. The motion was awkward, almost mechanical, but Kyan didn’t seem to notice. She only held on tighter, while Ryan stood beside them, his thoughts spinning faster than he could contain.

Ice cream was the last thing on his mind.

The little parlor smelled of sugar and waffle cones, its brass pipes humming faintly from the refrigeration engines hidden in the walls. The counters gleamed with glass jars of toppings, gears clicking softly as scoops were mechanically dispensed into cones. Kyan’s eyes lit up as soon as she spotted the rainbow sprinkles.

By the time they stepped outside, she was already licking a mountain of strawberry cream, pink streaks running down the sides of her cone. She gripped Nate’s hand with her free one, sticky and cold.

“Careful, Kyan—” Nate tried to pull his hand away, but she was relentless.

“Daddy, hold my hand!” she insisted, clinging tighter each time he tried to shake her off.

He clenched his jaw, already feeling sugar glaze across his fingers. His internal thoughts ticked like a clock winding too tight. Sticky… mess everywhere… she’s going to smear it on my sleeve. Saints above, this is intolerable.

But Kyan was beaming, swinging their joined hands as if he were the best man in the world. Persistence won. Nate finally let out a quiet, defeated sigh. His hand was already ruined, tacky with sugar, so he allowed her to cling to it as they walked.

Kyan hummed loudly, skipping beside him, her cone dripping faster than she could eat it. Nate stared down at the puddle of cream forming on his cuff with the look of a man slowly unraveling.

A few steps back, Alexia and Ryan trailed behind. Ryan hadn’t even touched his ice cream, the swirl of chocolate and vanilla sagging sadly against the cone, already half-melted. His shoulders were tight, his eyes fixed on the cobblestones.

Alexia noticed. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You haven’t even tasted yours.”

Ryan glanced at the cone, then back down. A sigh escaped him, heavy and sharp. “I don’t think I did good on the exam. Na—” he corrected quickly, “Father is going to be upset if we don’t get in.”

Alexia stopped, her grip gently tugging Ryan back. She knelt down so her eyes met his, steady and warm.

“I know,” she said softly.

Ryan froze. Panic rippled through him like fire through dry grass. What does she know? Does she know Nate is actually a spy? Does she know about Kyan and me—our powers? Does she know that I know she’s an assassin? His chest tightened, breath quickening. Is she about to… eliminate me?

Her face softened, almost reading his fear. “I know you crave approval and acceptance,” she said. “It’s one of the many traits of being an orphan. I know… because I still crave approval and acceptance.”

Ryan blinked, startled. “Wait—you… you were an orphan too?”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Yes.”

Ryan’s stomach flipped. He didn’t believe her. Not at first. But his curiosity gnawed at him, pulling him quietly into her mind. The truth hit him—memories of loneliness, hunger, punishment, the cold walls of institutions. She was telling the truth.

Alexia reached up, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Don’t worry about the test. I’m sure you did just fine. Let’s just enjoy our ice cream. And maybe—just maybe—I can convince your 'father' to let you and Kyan stay up a little later to watch that new show you two like so much.”

Ryan’s eyes widened. “Agent Wolf?!” His voice cracked with excitement.

She nodded with a grin.

Ryan’s lips curled into the first real smile he’d had all day. He almost threw his arms around her right then but hesitated, stiffening at the invisible wall of his past.

Alexia leaned closer, her voice gentle, sure. “I know it’s rough growing up in an orphanage. But you don’t have to worry about being hurt anymore. I will never hurt you, Ryan. I’ll protect you, no matter what.”

His chest ached. This time, he couldn’t hold back. Tears welled in his eyes as he practically jumped into her arms, crushing his half-melted cone between them. Ice cream smeared across her sleeve, but she didn’t flinch. She only wrapped her arms around him tightly, like he was worth the mess.

When they finally pulled away, Ryan slipped his small hand into hers. Sticky fingers and all, he held on. Together they walked forward, catching up to Kyan, who was still swinging Nate’s arm like a rope, much to his quiet torment.

And for one fragile moment, it almost felt like a real family.

By the time they reached the townhouse, dusk had settled over the city, gears and pistons hissing from the streetlamps as they clicked to life. Inside, the parlor glowed with the soft light of brass sconces. Kyan immediately scrambled to the settee, kicking off her shoes and demanding, “Agent Wolf! Agent Wolf!”

Ryan smirked faintly, flipping the switch on the brass television console. The machine hummed, a whir of cogs and steam before the screen flickered alive.

The opening theme filled the room—an ominous wolf’s howl cutting through static, followed by the sharp snap of a badge flipping open. Agent Wolf appeared, trench coat fluttering, his fox partner at his side, her sly eyes holding a secret no one yet knew.

Kyan giggled, hugging a pillow to her chest as the crime scene unfolded. Ryan leaned back in the armchair, pretending to be casual, but his mind wouldn’t stop circling.

Alexia’s words still lingered. I’ll never hurt you. I’ll protect you no matter what.

She knew. She had to know. Not about his powers—not yet. But she knew he and Kyan weren’t Nate’s real children. Ryan could feel it. She wasn’t fooled by Nate’s story about their “mother dying at childbirth.” She wasn’t going to expose it either.

Why? Ryan wondered, staring at the flickering screen. Why protect me and Kyan when she could gain something by giving us away?

On the screen, Agent Wolf uncovered a bloody footprint, and Ryan couldn’t help but draw the parallel—Alexia was like the fox partner, hiding her own secrets, dangerous yet strangely loyal. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to trust. But trust got you hurt in the orphanage.

Behind him, footsteps echoed on the polished floor. Nate stood in the doorway, coat in hand, his face its usual unreadable mask.

“There’s an emergency at work,” he said smoothly, slipping into the lie as naturally as breathing. He adjusted his cufflinks, voice clipped, steady. “I’ll be back later. Alexia, make sure the children go to bed soon.”

Kyan didn’t look away from the screen, still laughing at Agent Wolf’s antics. Ryan, however, flicked his eyes upward, slipping carefully into Nate’s surface thoughts. They were quick, sharp, coded. Tests. Must be switched before morning. Failure is not an option.

Ryan’s stomach dropped. Nate wasn’t going to “work.” He was going to the academy.

Alexia gave a single nod, leaning casually against the doorframe, but Ryan noticed the faint twitch of her jaw. She knew something too. She always knew.

Ryan slipped into her thoughts, Perfect as soon as the kids are asleep I can slip away to go to the academy to change the test.

For a moment, Ryan sat frozen, staring at the two adults—one a spy, one an assassin—both playing parts neither knew the other was playing. And in between them sat him and Kyan, watching cartoons, cones of melting ice cream forgotten.

Ryan swallowed hard, the sound of Agent Wolf’s howl filling the silence Nate left behind when he shut the door.