Chapter 66 H.O.P.E

Chapter 66 H.O.P.E
Chelsea

✦

The morning air is cool against my skin as I kneel in the garden, my fingers buried in the rich, dark soil. The rhythmic tasks of weeding and pruning have become my meditation, a way to quiet the chaos that still rattles through my mind after last night. The test. K's confession that he knows something about my past. The way he shut me out, leaving me with more questions than answers.

"Harder than it looks, isn't it?"

I glance up to see May standing over me, a basket of freshly picked vegetables balanced on her hip. She's been here for years, one of Sam's first rescues. She's maybe a few years older than me, with dark, watchful eyes that seem to see too much and a gentle smile that never quite reaches them.

"It's calming," I say, turning back to my work. "Needed something to do today."

May kneels beside me, setting her basket down. Her movements are fluid, practiced. She's comfortable here in a way I'm still struggling to achieve. "K has been giving you a rough time?" she says, not really a question.

I freeze, my fingers stilling in the dirt. "How did you—"

"Sam told me," she says softly. "He wanted me to check on you. K's methods can be... intense. But he means well."

I shake my head, pulling at a stubborn weed. "He terrified me last night. Made me think they'd found us."

May's hands still, her gaze drifting toward the tree line that borders the compound. "I know that feeling. The terror. The thinking they've found you." Her voice drops, becoming distant. "I was walking home from highschool. Just a normal Tuesday. I was cutting through the park like I always did."

I look at her, really look at her, and for the first time, I notice the faint scars along her jawline, almost invisible unless you're looking for them.

"It was so quick," she continues, her voice barely a whisper. "A van pulled up. Two men. I didn't even have time to scream. They had a bag over my head before I could process what was happening." She swallows hard, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her pants. "I was fifteen."

My chest tightens. I reach out, my hand hovering over hers before I let it drop. "May, you don't have to—"

"I do," she says, her eyes finding mine, and there's a fierce determination there that I wasn't expecting. "You need to understand. What this place is. Why we're here." She takes a shaky breath. "They moved me around. Sold me twice. The second man... he..." She breaks off, her gaze dropping to her hands. "He raped me. Before Sam and his team could find me."

Rage, hot and sharp, courses through me. "May, I'm so sorry."

She shakes her head, a sad smile touching her lips. "It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault but theirs. Sam got me out. Brought me here. That was five years ago." She looks around the garden, at the high walls that surround us. "This place saved me. HOPE saved me."

"HOPE?" I ask, the name new to me.

"That's what Sam calls this place. The organization. Helping Others Pursue Escape. It's not just a shelter, Chelsea. It's a mission. Sam's out there right now, probably somewhere dangerous, trying to save someone else."

She picks up a trowel, digging it into the soil beside a tomato plant. "I was like you when I first got here. Terrified to leave. Convinced they were waiting for me just beyond those walls." She nods toward the perimeter. "For a long time, I thought I'd stay here forever. That this was all I'd have."

"But you're not scared anymore?" I ask, marveling at her strength.

May laughs, but it's a hollow sound. "Oh, I'm still scared. Every day. But I've found my purpose here. I help with the new arrivals. I teach them how to garden, how to defend themselves. I show them that they're not broken, that they can survive what happened to them." Her eyes meet mine, and they're burning with an intensity that takes my breath away. "I'm staying here until every last one of those monsters is shut down. Until every victim gets justice. That's my purpose, Chelsea. To be a part of HOPE."

She stands, brushing the dirt from her knees. "K's test wasn't about cruelty. It was about preparation. He needs to know you can survive if the walls fall. If they do come for us." She looks toward the main lodge, where K is probably training right now. "He carries his own ghosts, you know. We all do. But his... they're heavy. Don't give up on him. Just don't."

With that, she picks up her basket and walks away, leaving me kneeling in the dirt, her story settling over me like a shroud. HOPE. It's more than just a name. It's a promise. A purpose. And looking at the walls that surround us, I realize they're not just a barrier to keep danger out. They're a home. A fortress. And maybe, just maybe, a place where I can find my own purpose too.

✦

The gentle creak of the swings is the only sound that breaks the afternoon stillness as Liv and I sway back and forth, our feet dangling above the grass. The sun filters through the dense canopy of leaves above, painting shifting patterns on the ground. It's peaceful. A stark contrast to the storm that's been raging inside me since last night.

"I never thought I'd say this," Liv says, her voice soft and dreamy, "but I actually love it here now." She kicks her legs out, sending her swing a little higher. "We have food, a warm bed, clothes... no worrying about where our next meal is coming from or if we're safe for the night. I feel... protected."

I nod, understanding completely. "The garden is nice. And the training, as terrifying as it can be, makes you feel capable."

"Exactly!" she exclaims, a genuine smile lighting up her face. "For the first time in a long time, I feel content. Isn't that strange? To feel content in a place we were brought to against our will?"

Before I can answer, her smile falters, a shadow passing over her features. The swing slows as she drags her feet in the dirt. "But then I think about him," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "Kyler."

My own chest tightens at the mention of his name. "He's probably working with the whole police department right now. His squad, the feds... they must be trying to track us." I say it with a certainty I don't quite feel, trying to convince myself as much as her.

"I know," she says, her gaze fixed on the fence line in the distance. "I miss him so much it hurts. And I hate that he's probably worried sick, thinking the worst." She takes a shaky breath, her hands gripping the chains of the swing so tightly her knuckles turn white. "But what if... what if one of his colleagues are dirty?"

The thought hits me like a punch to the gut. Sam had warned us, his voice grim as he explained that the traffickers had contacts everywhere, even in law enforcement. "That's... that's a scary thought, Liv."

"It's more than scary," she insists, turning to face me, her eyes wide with a fear that goes deeper than just the traffickers. "It's been eating away at me since Sam mentioned it. What if Kyler is one of them?"

"What?" I practically choke on the word. "Liv, why would you even think that? Kyler? No way. He loves you. He's a good cop."

"Is he?" she challenges, her voice trembling. "We can't trust anyone these days, Chelsea. You know that." She looks away, her focus on something only she can see. "There were just... little things. Things that didn't add up. Before all this happened. I brushed them off, but now..." She trails off, shaking her head. "Ever since we got here, and Sam told us about the corruption, I can't stop replaying them in my mind. It's been driving me crazy. I didn't know if I was just being paranoid, you know? Thinking crazy things because of all the trauma."

She finally looks at me, her eyes pleading. "I had to tell someone. I had to know if I was losing my mind."

I stop swinging, letting my momentum die until I'm just sitting still, the chains groaning softly above me. "Liv," I say, my voice low and serious. "Have you brought this up in therapy? That's what she's there for."

Liv shakes her head, her gaze dropping to her scuffed shoes. "No. Not yet. How could I? It sounds insane. 'Hi, I think my man, the man who supposedly is moving heaven and earth to find me after I was taken, might be one of the bad guys.' She'd think I was having a complete breakdown." She lets out a hollow, self-deprecating laugh. "Maybe I am."

"You're not," I say firmly, reaching over to still her swing with a hand on her knee. "You're processing trauma. Your mind is trying to make sense of things that don't make sense. But you have to tell me. What little things, Liv? What made you start thinking this?"

She takes a deep, shuddering breath, as if bracing herself. "It started a few months before... before everything. Money. He suddenly had a lot more of it. Not just a little, Chelsea. He bought a new truck, cash. A Rolex. He said he got a big bonus for some undercover work he couldn't talk about, but it felt... off. Kyler has always been so careful with money, so responsible. This was reckless."

She pauses, picking at a loose thread on her jeans. "And then there were the phone calls. He'd get them at weird hours. He'd step outside to take them, and when he came back in, he'd be... different. Closed off. Tense. I asked him once if it was work, and he just snapped at me. Said I needed to trust him. But his eyes... they looked shifty. Guilty."

My own mind races, trying to fit these pieces into the image of the man I knew. Kyler, the golden boy detective, always so earnest and determined. "Maybe it really was a deep cover case, Liv. You know how that stuff is. They have to maintain a persona."

"That's what I told myself!" she cries, her voice cracking with frustration. "But there was more. One night we had a huge fight. I found a key in his jacket pocket. A small, brass key to a post office box. When I asked him about it, he got furious. Said I was snooping, that I didn't trust him. He said it was for evidence, something he was holding for a case, but he wouldn't tell me which one. He grabbed it from me and put it somewhere else."

Her eyes meet mine, and they're swimming in unshed tears. "The fight got so bad, I left. I stayed at a rundown motel that night because I couldn't stand to look at him. But now... now I wonder. What if that key wasn't for evidence? What if it was for payment? Or instructions?" She covers her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking. "I hate myself for thinking this. I hate that I'm tarnishing his memory, or whatever this is, with these horrible thoughts. But I can't stop. What if he led them to us, Chelsea? What if the whole 'search' is just a performance?"

Liv's words hang in the air between us, a toxic cloud of doubt and fear. My own mind reels, refusing to accept the possibility she's presenting. Kyler? A dirty cop? It feels impossible, like something out of a bad movie. But the details she shared... the sudden cash, the secret phone calls, the strange fight over a key... they're too specific to be completely dismissed. A cold knot of dread forms in my stomach.

If she's right... if Kyler is one of them, then we're in more trouble than I ever imagined. And so is this compound.

"Alex," I whisper, the name feeling like a lead weight on my tongue. Liv looks up, her tear-streaked face confused. "Alex is definitely with Kyler. You know that. He'd be working this case day and night."

Liv's eyes widen as she connects the dots. "Oh my gosh," she breathes out. "If Kyler is... if he's working with them, then Alex..."

"He's walking right into a trap," I finish, my voice shaking. "Or worse, he's already in it. Kyler is the state's best tracker, Liv. If he's using his skills to hunt for us, but for the wrong people..." I can't even finish the thought. It's too horrifying. The walls of this compound, which felt so safe just moments ago, suddenly feel flimsy, like paper.

But then another thought pushes its way through the panic, a stubborn, irrational flicker of hope. "But... Alex has this weird hidden talent," I say, more to myself than to Liv. "It's like... he can find things. Things he loses. It's uncanny. He lost his grandmother's ring once in a lake, and he just walked to the exact spot it fell and found it. He's always been like that."

I look at Liv, trying to make her understand. "When they took me, a part of me wasn't that worried. Deep down, I just knew he'd find me. It's this gut feeling I have, this certainty." I shake my head, the conflicting emotions warring inside me. "But if Kyler is leading him, if Kyler is the one directing the search... then that talent doesn't matter. It's not a skill. It's a... a compass. And Kyler could be pointing that compass right toward us, for all the wrong reasons."

The realization hits me like a physical blow. The one person I thought was my salvation, my guaranteed rescue, could be the very thing that brings the monsters to our door. "We have to tell Sam," I say, my voice suddenly urgent and clear. "Liv, we have to tell him everything. Even if this theory may not be true. For caution. Right now."