“Turn the lights back on.” My voice sliced through the darkness. No one moved. I could hear Vordon breathing. Controlled. Too controlled. Tyrus shifted beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. Protective. Or positioning himself?
Then the emergency lights flickered on, casting the room in a dim red glow. And he stepped forward.
Mr. Joel. Alive.
Standing straight. Eyes sharp. Not confused. Not broken. Watching me like I was the one under examination. Vordon looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Father.” So he didn’t expect this.
Interesting.
“I told you she would remember,” Mr. Joel said calmly. His voice was steady. Clear. No aggression. No paranoia. That didn’t match the story. My pulse pounded. “You’re supposed to be unstable.” He smiled faintly. “Am I?” Tyrus went silent. Calculating.
“You
