“She's afraid, but I'm not picking up guilt from her,”Tarja sent. “She knows what that residue means and is terrified by the implications.”
My heart kicked against my ribs. I'd planned to ease into this. To be subtle. But the look on her face made something in me snap. "You know what caused it." Not a question.
Dr. Reeves's hands stilled on Thaniel's chest. Her eyes met mine, and I saw the war happening behind them. Professional obligation battled against something else. Something that looked a lot like remorse.
"I don't know what you?—"
"Please don't." Nana's voice sliced through the air, sharp enough to draw blood.
I watched the doctor's face drain of color as my grandmother stepped forward, power crackling in the space between them.My grandmother was not a sweet old lady who baked cookies and told stories. She was a woman who stared down gods and lived to tell the tale.
"I've seen that look before," Nana continued, each word dropping like a stone into still water. "On the faces of people whotriedto lie to me. Past tense. You recognize the residue pattern, don't you, sweetheart?"
The endearment dripped with venom.
"Here's how this works." Nana examined her nails, casual disinterest that made my stomach clench. "You talk. Now. And maybe—maybe—you walk out of here with all your pieces still attached. Because I promise you, whatever you think is scary enough to keep your mouth shut?" She smiled, and it was all teeth. "It's got nothing on what happens when you piss off Hades by threatening his grandchildren. Ask around. Oh, wait—you can't. Because the last person who tried this shit with us isn't around to ask anymore. She's enjoying time in the Underworld's finest cell."
Through our bond, Tarja sent me a pulse of encouragement. “Push her. She wants to talk.”
"What do you know?" I asked. "How many children came in here before something happened to them?"
Dr. Reeves reached for the examination table, steadying herself. "I can't—" She stopped. Started again. "Patient confidentiality?—"
"I'm not asking you to breach patient confidentiality," I said, letting venom leak into my tone. "There are families all over the country whose children have been targeted. All of them had contact with one of the medical facilities in your network within a month before the attacks. I bet when we go back, we'll find more."
"All of them," Nana added, leaning forward, "had the same experiences. The same night terrors. Thessmark attacked them all."
Dr. Reeves looked like she might be sick. "I had no idea."
"But you suspected." I refused to let her escape culpability. "You've suspected something was going on for a while, haven't you?" Her silence was answer enough.
"How long?" My voice cracked. "How long have you known?"
"I don't know anything." Dr. Reeves spoke quickly. "I've had... concerns. I've seen patterns that didn't make sense. But I don't have proof, I don't have?—"
"When did you first notice something?" Nana's voice was steel wrapped in velvet.
Dr. Reeves glanced toward where I'd seen the security cameras. Then down at her tablet. She seemed to make a decision.
"Six months ago, I noticed an uptick in comprehensive magical assessments." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "The nursing staff was doing more detailed evaluations than routine checkups require. When I looked into it, the order came through the collective's administration. They said it was part of a longitudinal study on paranormal children's development."
Ice slid down my spine. "They were doing a study without telling parents?"
"It was approved by the board. I found legitimate paperwork. But..." She hesitated. "The data collection seemed excessive. Full magical signatures. Detailed family histories. Information about siblings, extended family members. Questions about the children's parentage, their potential power levels."
Through my bond, Tarja's fury blazed. I felt it echo in my chest, hot and sharp. This was everything the Thessmark needed to select the right victims.
"And you didn't think that was suspicious?" Nana's voice could have cut glass.
"I questioned it. I went to Dr. Wournos. He's one of the founding members and on the board. He assured me it was standard research protocol. That we were building a database to better understand and serve paranormal children." Dr. Reeves's hands were shaking now. "He made a good case about how we needed to understand the inner workings of the powers of other beings, so we don't make mistakes."
"But you didn't believe him," I said.
"I wanted to." Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "The collective was supposed to be different. We were supposed to be the safe option. But then infants started... disappearing from our patient roster. It took digging, but I discovered their powers were drained from them before they died."
"How many did this happen to?" Nana demanded.
"Twelve that I know of. Maybe more." She pulled up her tablet. "I started keeping track. Unofficially. Something felt wrong. Every infant that died was powerful. Every single one."
