Page 16

Chapter sixteen

Jackson

Childish shouts and laughter pass unrestrained through the apartment door, bringing a small smile to my lips as I tap my knuckles against it.

“Be right there!” Briar calls out, sounding breathless.

I tuck my hand back in my pocket, and it’s only a minute before I hear the slide of the peephole.

“Oh, Jackson! Is it that day already?”

The door opens, revealing a young blonde with her hair tied back.

There’s gaudy beads and jewels dangling around her neck and wrists, and a construction paper crown covered in glitter and dried macaroni on her head.

She smiles when she sees me, one of a handful of Guild members who don’t seem as fearful of me as the rest.

When I’d asked her about it, she claimed she trusted the kids’ instinct over everyone else’s opinions.

A silly reason. The kids have nothing to fear from me.

Adults who know better do.

But she’s new, having joined while the Guild was living in the bunker as Claudia’s helper with the kids.

After Claudia’s death, she’s taken over living with and handling the children full-time until they can be sent safely into witness protection with their families.

“Sorry things are a mess. We’re playing knights and dragons.” There’s a long pause where I suspect she thinks I’ll say something nice in return.

When I remain silent, she blinks and calls over her shoulder, “Mallory! It’s time for your lessons.” She finally steps back, opening the door wide for me to enter.

The living room is overtaken by forts made from colorful sheets and string lights, draped over whatever furniture had been in the apartment.

The six kids are running and jumping on everything, a whirlwind of energy as they play-fight with their foam swords and shields.

I move inside, my eyes latching on to the blonde-haired girl in a puffy pink princess dress.

Mallory gasps when she sees me, ditching her sword and flouncing toward me with wide blue eyes and a bright smile.

“Jack!” She tackles my arm, wrapping hers around it and then tugging excitedly.

“I’ve gotten so much better! Come see! Come see!”

I follow her to the fourth bedroom, now converted to a learning room, and she hops in front of the whiteboard, fluffing her hair.

The blonde strands darken to black, then shorten to a bob framing her face.

She wrinkles her nose, and the tip narrows and points further out.

Her eyes are brown when she looks at me and throws her hands out.

“Ta-da!”

“Better.” Smiling, I push off the wall and retrieve a small mirror from the cabinet to hand her.

Then, a book from the shelf with real-life people and images in it.

Flipping to a page with a girl around her age, I place it on the table and tap on it.

“Match her.”

“Okay!” She kneels in front of the table, the book on her left and the mirror on her right, as she looks between the two.

I return to my spot on the opposite wall, leaning back with a leg bent as I withdraw a square of paper from my pocket and work on some origami while I wait.

Her work isn’t quiet.

If she isn’t huffing, muttering to herself, or groaning when something doesn’t look right, she’s gasping sharply or releasing tiny squeals when something she tries works.

It’s when she grows quiet that I look up.

She’s staring at my hands—at the twelfth paper animal I’ve made—with ripe curiosity.

“Why are you always making those?”

“They keep my hands busy.”

“Why?”

Rather than explain, I tilt my head and regard her unchanged appearance.

“Did you get stuck?”

“No!” she replies indignantly.

“I just…I just…can I have one?”

“No.”

“Why not? You have so many!”

“They’re not for you.”

She folds her arms and pouts.

“Who are they for?”

“Raegan.”

Her face falls.

Even though we’ve talked about her before, we talked about what the bad guys said and did, she’s still scared of her.

I’m not expecting a change overnight.

Logic and reasoning only go so far with children before emotions win.

And unfortunately for Raegan, she’s tangled up in a web of bad feelings that Mallory’s still trying to work through.

It was the main reason I started visiting her.

I want to learn more about what Raegan went through the last time with Gordon and to see if I might sway Mallory’s opinion of Raegan.

I have a feeling Mallory’s acceptance of her might help fix how she sees herself.

She stays quiet, and I don’t push her to speak.

I give her time to sort through her feelings and continue folding the paper as if I could do this all day.

By the time I’ve completed two more animals, tossing them into the air to join the others, she’s found her words.

“I think…” She tugs on her hair, rolling her lip between her teeth.

“Um…maybe I might…do you think I could…or would she…” Her blue eyes plead at me to understand.

“Hm?”

Mallory hides behind her hands, groaning with frustration.

“Why is this so hard?!”

Smiling, I squat and tap the table.

She splits her fingers to watch me through them.

“Maybe because it means something to you.”

“Is…is that good? Or bad?”

I shrug one shoulder.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

She stares at me, unblinking as she tries to figure it out, then snaps her fingers closed again.

“Ugh! I don’t know!” she wails.

Chuckling softly, I return to my position against the wall.

“Then you don’t know yet. Don’t force it.”

“Okay.”

Her voice is soft and sad, but she doesn’t realize how much improvement she’s already made.

That she might ask to see or talk to Raegan when only a month ago she’d been terrified of her.

Even if she’d found the courage to ask, I wouldn’t let that meeting happen yet.

I can’t risk hurting Raegan if Mallory isn’t ready.

When it does happen, it’ll be when I know Mallory won’t run at the sight of her.

“Why do you make those for her?”

Back to the origami, then.

“She likes them.”

“Oh.” Mallory pauses.

Thinks. “I like them, too.”

“Mm. Something you two have in common.”

Her mouth pops open, and her lips slide into a shy smile.

“Yeah.” She side-eyes the floating paper.

“I want one.”

“Then make one.”

“I want one of those .”

“No.”

She huffs.

“Why not ?”

“These are something special between me and her. It would be wrong of me to share it with anyone else.”

Her face scrunches with confusion.

“It’s just paper. What’s so special about it?”

“It’s the meaning behind it. Just for the two of us.” Lifting the latest creature with the others, I drop my gaze to the book and mirror still in front of her.

“Are we done for today?”

Mallory slaps her hand over the page.

“No! I’m still trying!”

Her focus intensifies on the image and her reflection, her hair and eyes shifting first and easiest. She’s been working on perfecting the rest of the facial features the last few weeks, particularly changing shape and structure.

It’ll be a handy gift once she’s gotten a better handle on it.

Once she has the head right, we’ll move on to the body—enough to pass with clothes on—then test if her gift can affect her voice and clothes as well.

I’ve been meeting with her almost weekly since we rescued her to help her with her gift; with Raegan.

Of all the children we rescued, she’s the only one we won’t have a place for.

There is no witness protection for her because we won’t return her to the family that got rid of her like something defective.

It reminds me of my own childhood before the island.

How I’d been unwanted by my own parents and given up to the system.

Then passed from one foster home to another until the last one sold me to GE, like I was a circus animal.

Unless Aiden can find a family that will happily adopt her with her special talent, it’s more likely Mallory will grow up here.

With Briar. With the Guild.

“Yes!” She smiles at me with her borrowed face, blissfully ignorant of the power she’ll have when she’s older. “Good.”