Page 48 of Barinov

She exhales slowly, her forehead settling into me as her breath finally evens out.

“You can start your story now,” she whispers, one hand clutching the swan tight.

“Okay,” I murmur into the dark. “Guess I should probably begin with Chicago.”

“Smart,” she yawns.

“The second I stepped inside, I knew something was off,” I begin. “Ivan never showed. No guards. Not a single kid to be found. Nothing but an empty room and a laptop sitting on this rusted metal table.”

Her fingers curl into my shirt.

“When I opened it,” I continue, keeping my voice down. “Something released from underneath. Some sort of gas. I’m not really sure. I didn’t even see it at first, only felt it. Burning my eyes and making the room tilt. Couldn’t see shit through the tears.”

“W-what the?” she stutters.

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s sort of fuzzy after that. I remember Luca standing there. He had this gas mask on, calm as hell.” I swallow. “He was dragging someone behind him. A body. It was burnt to a crisp, so I couldn’t tell who the hell it was.”

She flinches hard, the swan falling from her grasp. I catch it before it has a chance to hit the floor and shatter. Gently, I lay it on the nightstand and continue.

“He shoved a mask on me right as the explosion hit. Controlled just enough to make the outside burn first.”

“To keep Tex and Nate out,” she adds.

I nod. “Yeah, that and to give him time to drag my ass outta there.”

She shifts her weight, hugging me tighter.

“The gas had already fucked with my head though,” I say, trying to breathe through the haunting memory. “Couldn’t think straight for the life of me. Fucker took my gun, my knife, and smashed my comms with the heel of his boot. Then he made me crawl through this hidden tunnel system deep under the warehouse when a second explosion went off.”

I pause, my jaw tightening.

“Next thing I knew, I woke up in a pitch-black room with ringing ears and a pounding headache worse than any hangover. Had one of our Project Dylan collars locked around my neck.”

Her breath hitches. “Zeke.”

“I know,” I whisper, wrapping her up tighter. “I know.”

She’s quiet for a second. “And you’ve been here? All this time? Alone.”

“Not exactly,” I answer.

She lifts her head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“We weren’t here at first,” I continue softly. “Eden came later.”

“Eden?”

“It’s what he calls this house.” I run my fingers through her hair, gently raking them through a few knots. “This place, it came later. Before this it was… different. Not even really a house more like a damp basement.” A dry huff slips out of me. “Real ninja-turtle sewer shit.”

She goes completely still against me. “You were in the dark for over two years?”

“Kinda.”

“How did you survive that?” Her voice cracks and her body rattles, just a tad.

“Hey. Breathe, Bells,” I whisper, running my fingers up and down her back in the steady familiar way I used to in Miami.

I release a deep sigh of relief as my sister calms under my touch.