Chapter 36: The Girl in the Glass
The cell they put Milo in wasn’t big, but it was secure. Reinforced steel. Silver-lined. The kind of place that didn’t ask questions and didn’t answer any either.
But Milo didn’t seem afraid.
That was the first thing that unnerved me.
He sat on the edge of the bench, hands resting neatly in his lap, like he’d just been invited to tea and was waiting to be served. His posture was perfect. His face calm. If it wasn’t for the faint shimmer of amusement in his eyes, you’d almost forget he was a traitor.
Or worse.
A believer.
Aidan and I stood outside the cell, arms crossed, watching him through the narrow window in the door. We hadn’t said anything yet. Neither had he.
Finally, I asked, “How long have you been working for Gregory?”
He smiled like I’d complimented his outfit.
“Long enough to know you wouldn’t break easily.”
I didn’t rise to the bait. “Then why leave a note under Echo’s door?”
He tilted his head. “Because she was ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“To remember.”
\---
Echo wasn’t in the room with us. She didn’t want to be. I didn’t blame her. Her hands had started shaking the moment we brought Milo in. She didn’t say much, just stood there for a few seconds, staring at him like he was a ghost wearing someone else’s face.
Then she turned and walked out without a word.
I found her later, sitting at the top of the old bell tower—one of the only quiet places left in the estate. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, her eyes fixed on the horizon.
“You okay?” I asked, stepping up beside her.
She didn’t look at me. “I used to dream of this place. Before I ever saw it. Isn’t that weird?”
I sat down beside her. “Maybe. Or maybe it means you were always meant to come here.”
She let out a soft breath. “I remembered something else.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded slowly. “There was a boy. My age. Maybe a little older. He used to sit outside the glass wall and tell me stories. I don’t know if they were real. I think he made them up to keep me calm. He was the only one who didn’t wear a lab coat.”
I waited.
She continued. “His name was Milo.”
My blood ran cold.
She finally looked at me, and her voice trembled just slightly. “I think I trusted him. And he betrayed me then, too.”
\---
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
Aidan found me in the kitchen at 3 a.m., barefoot, wrapped in a hoodie three sizes too big, staring at a teacup like it might start explaining the meaning of life to me if I just focused hard enough.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just walked in, made himself a mug of whatever terrible herbal thing he’d been drinking lately, and leaned against the counter beside me.
“You’re brooding,” he said eventually.
“I’m contemplating.”
“Same thing. Only yours involves tea and existential dread.”
I gave him a look. “It’s chamomile.”
“Fancy.”
We stood in silence for a few beats.
Then I said, “What if Gregory’s plan was never about me?”
Aidan frowned. “What do you mean?”
“What if I was just a distraction? The blueprint he could wave in everyone’s face while he built something worse behind the scenes?”
Aidan took a sip of his tea. “I think you’re giving him too much credit.”
I shook my head. “No. I think I’m finally giving him the right amount.”
\---
The next morning, Ethan burst into the war room like he’d just invented time travel.
“Okay, okay, okay,” he panted, holding up a flash drive like it was made of gold. “I found something.”
Elena, who had been halfway through a bowl of cereal, sighed dramatically. “Let me guess. Gregory’s new mixtape finally dropped?”
“Close,” Ethan said, ignoring her. “Encrypted footage. Buried under a secondary firewall in the lab’s digital wreckage. Took me hours to crack it.”
“Hours?” I raised an eyebrow. “You mean since 4 a.m.?”
“Okay, it took me snacks and hours.”
He plugged the drive into the projector. The lights dimmed. And then—
A screen lit up.
Grainy, black and white. A security feed.
A date stamp from two years ago.
Echo sat alone in a glass room, smaller than the ones we’d seen before. Her hair was shorter. Her wrists thinner. She was maybe fourteen. Maybe less.
She was strapped to a chair.
On the other side of the glass—Gregory.
He was watching.
Not talking.
Not moving.
Just watching.
Then the screen cut.
And another file played.
This time, Echo was standing.
Covered in blood.
Her eyes glowing.
Around her—dozens of guards.
Unmoving.
Unbreathing.
Just… gone.
“Holy hell,” Elena whispered.
Ethan paused the feed. “Gregory didn’t just want her to survive. He wanted her to kill. She’s not a sleeper. She’s the detonator.”
\---
The room went quiet.
Aidan turned to me. “We need to keep her close.”
“Not just for safety,” I said softly. “But because if Gregory tries to use her again…”
“We might not be able to stop her.”
\---
Later, I found Echo sitting in the library, curled up with a thick book and two uneaten cookies on a plate beside her. She looked small again. Not scared. Not dangerous.
Just tired.
“I saw the footage,” I said gently.
She didn’t look up. “I figured.”
“You weren’t yourself.”
“I was.”
I blinked. “What?”
She looked at me then, her gaze steady. “I was myself. That’s what scares me.”
I sat down across from her. “Then you’ll learn to be someone else.”
She tilted her head. “Like you did?”
I smiled. “Exactly.”
\---
That night, Aidan walked me to my door. Just like before. Just like always.
Only this time, we paused.
Only this time, I didn’t look away.
“You’re not afraid of what I might become?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “I’m afraid of what you’ll forget.”
I frowned. “Forget what?”
“How to want something for yourself.”
Then he leaned in.
And kissed me again.
Slower this time.
Softer.
And just when it started to feel too perfect, Elena’s voice echoed down the hallway.
“Oh for God’s sake, get a room!”
Aidan groaned into my shoulder. “I liked this better when she didn’t like me.”
“She still doesn’t,” I said.
Then I kissed him again—just to be sure.