Meditation had never been Vivainne’s strong suit. With a sigh, she opened her eyes, pulling her hands back from her chest. If her original core was still in there, she couldn’t find it, growing all too familiar with the jagged edges of her implanted core as she searched for it.

  It left her sick to the stomach, wishing she hadn’t eaten dinner.

  It was sickening. Exhausting. She felt lost, moving aimlessly around inside her own soul, searching for pieces her mother thought were worth burying.

  How was she meant to become a hero if this was all she was left with? Pieces of a stolen and fractured core, still bleeding from where it had been torn from another super’s chest years ago.

  She couldn’t build a legacy on pain. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t hers to work with.

  “Vivainne?”

  Recompense’s voice cut through her thoughts as a tear snuck from the corner of her eye, tracking down her face alone.

  “I’m tired,” she said, the words heavy.

  “We can take a break,” he said. In the same living room she’d broken into weeks ago, they sat on the floor, a thick rug beneath them. He had spent hours walking her through exercise after exercise, trying to connect with her original core.

  “I don’t think it’s in there.” She brushed off her face and rose, dizzy as blood rushed to sleeping limbs. “It doesn’t matter anyway. No one should have two cores.”

  “They’re your cores, Vivainne,” he said, rising with her. “If it’s not in there, that’s disappointing, but these exercises can take time to work. Especially considering it’s been buried for so long. Consider it like another awakening…”

  “It’s fine,” Vivainne said, brushing his words aside. “I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

  “Okay.” Charles, Recompense gone now that they were no longer working with their powers, walked across the room to his cabinet. Retrieving a drink he’d poured hours ago, he turned back to Vivainne. “It may be helpful to talk about this.”

  “I don’t see why.”

  “Vivainne.” The serious tone of his voice stopped her before she could leave the room. “There are therapists at the tower. You should speak with one.”

  “For what?” Vivainne demanded. There was no point. Talking to someone wouldn’t make her any less traumatized, or make the matter any less terrible. Plus, she had talked about it. With Recompense, at the very least.

  “To process,” he said. “To heal. To be prepared when you have to start talking to lawyers.”

  “Lawyers?”

  “For your mother’s case,” Charles said. He placed the glass on the table, staring at her from across the room. “It’s not pleasant, Vivainne, but everyone is going to want to talk to you. Get a testimony. Our lawyers. Your lawyers. State attorneys. Detectives. Everyone is going to want to talk to you and tear your story apart, poke holes in it.”

  “But I didn’t do anything wrong.” She wrapped her arms around herself, staring at him. Wasn’t there any way to avoid this? She’d participated with the heroes. She was the one who brought the information to the heroes. Why did she still need to be involved?

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  She couldn’t sit and face her mother in court. She couldn’t testify.

  “I know,” Charles said. With a surety in his steps that soothed her growing worry, he walked across the room, stopping in front of her. “You did nothing wrong. But your mother’s lawyers will be trying to poke any hole in your story that they can to get her free, and our lawyers and the state officers will be doing the same to be prepared for their arguments.”

  “I don’t have to testify, right?” Vivainne asked. “I… I don’t want to see her. I can’t.”

  “I wish I could promise you something. But I will try my hardest to make sure you never have to be in the same room as her ever again.”

  A breath of air forced itself into her lungs at his words, relief flooding her body and sending tears to her eyes. She crumpled, wrapping her arms around herself as a sob escaped her throat. She’d been holding it in for so long, been afraid for so long, and she couldn’t anymore.

  Strong arms wrapped around her. She folded into Charles’ chest, fighting against herself to drag a breath of fresh air into her lungs. She couldn’t, gasping as another sob built up in her chest, stopping her from breathing. When was the last time she’d been held like this? She couldn’t remember. Couldn’t remember anyone ever comforting her, and that only made her sob harder.

  Charles held her until she stopped crying, sniffling as she pulled back. Tears left her face sticky, snot dripping from her nose. God, she was a mess. She couldn’t go a day without sobbing herself into exhaustion. She needed to stop this. Needed to get in control, start getting things in order. Figure out what she was going to do with herself. With what she knew. With her powers.

  “Sorry.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, grimacing as she smeared snot across it.

  “Don’t be,” Charles said. “You’ve been through a lot. Do you want a water?”

  She nodded silently. He turned his back, walking over to the drink cabinet and retrieving a bottle of water from a small refrigerator. It gave her a chance to clean herself up, wiping off her face and pulling her sleeves down to cover her hands. She would have to change and shower after this.

  After a few sips of water, she managed to speak. “Will you look into something for me?”

  “Depending,” Charles said, but nodded for her to go ahead.

  “Can you look into my sister?”

  “Your sister will be coming home shortly with Darcy and Jordan…”

  “No,” Vivainne said, shaking her head. Still shaky from the crying, her voice wavered as she tried to find the words to explain. “My other sister. The first one. Vanessa.”

  “Ah.”

  Vivainne started talking before Charles could continue, and say whatever was plainly written across his face. “I know she’s likely dead. But I want to know what happened. Did my mother kill her? If she did, I need to know.”

  “I don’t think you want to know,” he said.

  “I need to know,” she insisted. Even if all it meant was she learned that her sister was dead, it would be an answer. She could honor her sister. Give her a burial, or a ceremony, or whatever you did when you didn’t have a body. Something to remember her by, since no one else would. Too many people had been forgotten because of her mother’s actions, she could do her best to make sure that wouldn’t happen again.

  “Okay,” Charles said. “I’ll look into it, once I’m back on duty.”

  “Thank you.” Vivainne took another sip of her water, rocking back onto her heels as she stared at Charles. What else was there to talk about? It was too early to go to bed, not when Jordan, Darcy, and Vanya were home, and she didn’t want to sit in her room alone. “How about a game of chess?”

  She nodded across the room at the small, two person table, a chess board worked into the top in alternating colors of wood. It sat in front of the fireplace, fire crackling quietly in its depths, a safe hidden somewhere behind it. Vivainne didn’t have the slightest inclination to ask what he’d hidden away there.

  “Do you know how to play?”

  “No,” Viv admitted, cracking a smile. How hard could it be? She knew how to do checkers, and they used the same board.

  “Ah, well, I suppose I’ll teach you,” Charles said, motioning her over. They sat at the table together, Charles pulling out pieces from a drawer and explaining the function of each as he went down the line.

  Not like checkers, then.