Page 103 of Hide From Me

The document I didn’t read.

I unfold it with hands that feel foreign to me. At first, my eyes skim the text, hoping that if I don’t read it too closely, it won’t matter. But I can’t help myself.

I remember how quickly he had me sign it and how I didn't have a second thought about it.

But now? All I hear is that voice in my head, urging me toread it.

Every word.

This document legally binds the signee to the non-disclosure of any verbal, written, or observed knowledge pertaining to classified military operations under the protection of Seaborn and any Seaborn-affiliated factions worldwide. Any breach of this agreement is subject to prosecution, exile, or targeted detainment at the discretion of the Seaborn Board of Commanders.

My breath catches as I read the words again, but they make no more sense the second time.

Military operations.

Targeted detainment.

Affiliated factions.

What thehelldid I sign? How did I get here? How did I end up in a world where this language applies to me?

I sit down hard on the edge of the couch, my grip squeezing the crumpling paper. The ink smears beneath my thumb, but I don’t even care.

Before I know it, I have my phone in hand. My fingers shake so badly that I can barely scroll through my contacts. Jack? No. My mom?Definitely not.

I stop at the only name that makes sense—the only person who might have answers without making me feel like I’ve lost my mind.

Laura.

She answers on the third ring, her voice bright and chipper, as if nothing in the world is wrong.

“Hey, Ray! How’s Austra—”

“Laura.” My voice trembles as I say her name. “I need you to be honest with me. No jokes. No sarcasm. Please. What the hell is Seaborn?”

There’s a pause. Not just a brief silence, but a long, weighted pause that makes my skin crawl.

“Where did you hear that?” The sunshine has vanished from her voice, replaced by something sharp and cautious.

“Moe had me sign something.” My voice is small, but I push the words out. “I thought it was a non-disclosure agreement. But it wasn’t. It talks about military factions, secrecy, and threats of court-martial. I didn’t know what I was signing.”

“Shit.”

I can hear her moving now. There are footsteps, maybe pacing or perhaps she’s running a hand through her hair like she does when she’s stressed.

“Raylen… how much did he tell you?”

“Nothing,” I whisper. “That’s the problem. I thought it was just a business trip. But now I’m reading words like ‘classified operations’ and ‘targeted detainment’ and I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

“Raylen… I’m not supposed to say anything. But—you already know too much.”

“Know what, Laura?”

“Seaborn is a military faction. Not the kind you read about. Not the kind you see in movies. It’s bigger, older, and darker. Built for one purpose: to stop the world from burning itself to the ground.”

Her words hit me like a gut punch.

“They're military?” I choke out.