“John, please,” she whispers.
He ignores her and crouches in front of me.
“The Collective wanted you executed years ago,” he says. “I could’ve killed you that night.”
My jaw locks, but I don’t look away.
“You were supposed to die with your parents,” he continues. “Mary begged me not to do it. She is the only reason you’re still breathing.”
Mary’s voice trembles. “She’s still your niece.”
John’s expression hardens.
“No,” he says calmly. “She’s a liability.”
He leans closer, his voice dropping.
“So here are your only two options. I can send you to Elliot’s manor where The Collective will decide how useful you still are.”
His gaze locks onto mine.
“Or I execute you right now and finally finish what should’ve been done years ago.”
The room goes very quiet.
He straightens and adjusts his sleeve as if the decision means nothing to him.
“Think carefully about which option you prefer.”
Then he turns and walks out, leaving the rope tight around my ribs and the cuffs locked around my wrist.
Mary lingers a few feet away. Her eyes are wet, rimmed red.
“Brooke,” she says softly, “why would you do that? You are only making this harder than it needs to be.”
I don’t answer. I force my breathing to slow, drag it down into my chest until the shaking eases. Panic won’t save me. It never has.
Mary watches me too closely.
“Brooke,” she tries again, gentler now, coaxing. “Please. Say something.”
I lift my head slowly and meet her gaze.
“Where’s Luna and Krueger?”
“In the garage, we shut them in there so they wouldn’t run when we brought you in. They’re safe.”
“Did you hurt them?”
Her brows knit together, almost offended. “Of course not. I would never. We aren’t monsters.”
I almost laugh. The sound lodges in my throat and burns there.
My wrists throb where the cuffs bite into skin. I take a shallow breath.
“Mary,” I say quietly, “I’m pregnant.”
She goes still. Her expression shifts, eyes narrowing slightly as if she is fitting a final piece into place.
