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Her voice is ice, and I know I shouldn’t have tried to get out of her request. “Being myson, you should be able to do both. You’ve kept up your training, so this tiny assignment shouldn’t deter you fromrelationsas you call it. You’re my best soldier, so you need to handle my biggest problem. I’ve only explained this to you, for this reason. Once you’re done, I need you to look into these murders that are on the rise. It’s messy, like it’s a baby Rogue with no training involved, and we need to get involved before the humans catch onto it. If we need to add time management skills to your training at this late stage of your Rogue career, well then clearly, we’ve failed you. You’re dismissed.”

Two backhanded compliments in the same year. If I cared enough, I would be concerned for her wellbeing. Leaving the room, I grab the file from the dining room table. The sooner I can get this out of the way, the sooner I can get some space from her. Heading to the weapons room, I open the file to see what I need and drop it in shock, like it burned me.

I dreaded the day that Kyla’s face would ever be in a file like this. Next to the heirs, she’s the closest thing I have to a friend, even if we haven’t spoken in years. It took me a while to get the message through to her, but when she finally understood the dangers that come with being my friend, she made herself scarce and understood why we could no longer be friends. To everyone else, it looked like we grew apart naturally. But I never forgot her, and I always cared. It was easier to protect her if we no longer appearedto be close. Last I heard, she took an overseas assignment to get away, and I was hoping she’d made it out safely.

Who was I kidding, thinking that Mom was going to let the incident at the funeral with Jude slide? Alyssa Vance was made to seem weak in public, andoh no,we can’t have that. I’m Alyssa Vance’s reason for everything that goes wrong, and if I asked, she would say it had happened because I didn’t do a good enough job at winning Jude over.

The price I need to pay for that is murdering my friend.

I don’t even bother reading the transgression Kyla’s been accused of. I know it's bullshit, and there is nothing I can do to change her fate. It's a tactic to keep me in line, and it’s working. Closing my eyes, I try to weigh up my options, and I have none. It's a decision between Jude or Kyla, and if I’m not careful, Logan could be at risk, too. I’ve never felt more hopeless in my life.

Steeling myself for what has to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, I grab a few weapons and get in my car to drive to Kyla’s last known address on file. Taking every long route I can think of to draw this out, doesn’t help. I can’t believe I have to do this. The last time my hands were shaking, this hard was on my first assignment.

Parking across the street from Kyla’s house, I see she got her white picket fence dream, and for just a moment, I can be happy for my friend, even if I’m the one that will ruin her dream. I open the file again to double check the stats on her life. My blood runs cold as I see she has a child. It's at that moment that a child runs out of the house, chased by a man. That must be Kyla’s husband, a human, by the sounds of it. Turning back to the file, I see nothing about the child being part of the assignment, and I allow myself to feel a small bit of relief. If that's even possible on a day like today. Kylaruns after the man with a backpack, and it looks like they’re going on a school run.

Kyla looks older, but she’s laughing more than I remember. She kisses the man passionately, and I hear the child exclaim they’re being gross, followed by Kyla’s laugh. Thankfully, they leave for school while Kyla goes back into the house. Weighing up my options, I determine the child must be around four years old. It's a small mercy that I don’t have to expose her to her mother’s murder.

I’ve never cared about assignments before, but this is Kyla. What kind of evil monster wants to do this to a happy family? My mother, that’s who. And she’s using me to do this. I don’t know why I expect empathy from a woman that had her own child executed.

While it's difficult to kill a Rogue, sometimes it happens on assignment. If we get caught and sent to human jail, someone is sent in to terminate us. That's why we could have shorter life spans because of the nature of our work. But we can live impossibly long under normal circumstances. Since we don’t live under these dream circumstances, sometimes we marry and have children at a young age. This also means we have a lot more orphans than we should have. Something has got to change. This system is broken.

On autopilot, I brace myself for what needs to happen next; I get out of the car and sneak around the back of Kyla’s house, going through her garden. Silently, I let myself in via the sliding door in her living room, to be greeted with the sight of her back as she does dishes.

“What was my supposed crime against the empire?” Kyla surprises me by asking calmly, as if I was a welcome, invited guest, and we are discussing something as mundane as the weather. “How did you know?” I reply quietly.

She turns to face me, freckles splattering across her nose and her blonde hair framing her face, still in the same pixie cut style I knew from when we were younger. Giving me a wry smile, it looks like Kyla understands what’s supposed to happen, and she’s already forgiven me. It's forgiveness I don’t deserve, and it breaks something in me that Jude leaving, nor my mother, could ever have broken.

“I hoped you were being paranoid back then, but a part of me knew this day would always come. You warned me about it after all, and I took too long to listen. I got too close.” She glances down at my foot with a smirk, “And your gait on your right foot is heavier like when we were kids. It’s barely discernible, but even if it’s been a while, I still remember what it sounds like. You really should train around that.”

I’m silent, because what do you say to someone you love before you kill them? How do you murder your best friend? I’ve never heard of murder of compassion. She sighs. “How are you supposed to do it?”

Looking around her living room, I’m overwhelmed with all the pictures of their family moments, and my throat clogs with emotion. “Gun,” I choke out and try to swallow the lump in my throat. “Research shows that housewives prefer to slit their wrists, but I’m allowed to go the gun route too, and I chose that…it’s quicker and less painful.”

Resigned, Kyla looks at a photo on her fridge of her little family, as if she’s drawing strength from them before she looks back at me, fierce. “Promise me you will make sure my daughter and husband stay out of this life. That they stay safe?”

I can’t do this.

Shaking my head, I tell her, “We’re getting you out of here. Leave everything, I will set a fire, to make it look like you died that way. Then we canget the three of you out of the country. I still have contacts of my own that my mom knows nothing about. You’ll be safe.”

She ignores everything I just said and asks where I want her. Confused, I look at her, my tone urgent, “Kyla, we have to go now.” But she remains still, looking back at me like I’m the crazy one. “Sebastian, the options you’re giving me is my daughter lives her life on the run, or I give your mom what she wants, and my daughter remains safe and still has my husband. We both know that if your mom even gets a hint that I’m alive, she’ll use whatever resources she has at her disposal until we’re all dead.”

My eyes go wide as I see how fast she’s putting this all together. “But I’m guessing your mom will leave my family alone if I’m dead?” I won’t lie to Kyla, but I won’t confirm what she suspects because she’s right. My mom is only going after her because of her connection to me. Her child and husband don’t factor into this. I doubt she even glanced at them or considered them and the pain they would go through just so she could tighten my leash.

“That’s what I thought.” Kyla goes to the kitchen counter, pulling out a kitchen pad and taking a moment to scrawl a goodbye letter on it with steady hands. Then comes back to face me.

The guilt and sadness that have been swirling inside me since the moment I saw her name on that file turns to rage, and I shout at her. “No! Stop this. Why aren’t you fighting back?Fight me.We both know you could. Make me hurt for trying to take you away from your family! No one would blame you for killing me in self defense!”

My chest heaves and tears spill down my face. Kyla reaches for my cheek and caresses it, wiping them away. So much love and tenderness radiates from her, despite what we both know is about to happen.

“Sebastian, when you love someone as much as I love my family, death is something you’ll easily face if it keeps them safe. I knew I was on borrowed time, and I’ve had a wonderful life. Sure, I wish there was more time, but I regret nothing. Don’t fear death, it's only the next step of our journey. But please tell my family about this conversation one day, when it’s safe. I would hate for them to think the staged version of my death is real.”

Shaking my head because I refuse to accept it, I’m unable to get any words out.

“Promise me you’ll protect them? My husband is human, and he doesn’t understand this life as well as he thinks he does. The Human Faction trains them, but it's barely enough for the reality of our lives. It would be better if you could help them disappear. Then, when she’s old enough, you can explain to her what we are. Would it make you feel better if I fought you for a bit to make it look like I put up a fight?”

I don’t answer before she strikes at me with a dagger, burying the short blade in my shoulder, and it hurts. Good. I half ass a punch and a kick that she returns, but my heart is not in it, and we both know it. Pain surrounds me as she stops with her assault. She takes a deep breath. “Leave. You don’t have to watch this.”

“No.” I refuse. “I want to be here for you. I don’t want to leave you alone.”