Hope

Cammie

We were running out of coffee.

And patience. After forty-two hours, most of our patience was gone too; but it was easier to refill the coffee machines.

Two stories below me, Alyson was locked in an empty room, monitored, bound, and left alone after hours of interrogation. Jonas had been against locking Clara up again, but the majority had won. Neither girl had been difficult to secure, and no one felt any more at ease since turning the lock on their cells.

The machine in front of me beeped. Spies didn't drink coffee often. Dependency on any substance was a crutch. But there were a few days, a few circumstances which called for a little extra boost. Besides, I think when your boyfriend's twin sister comes to your home after multiple attempts to kill you, you're allowed to indulge a little. It's got to be in the spy/girlfriend handbook somewhere. Or it should be.

Note to self: write that handbook.

After pouring an extra cup of caffeine, I made my way down the hidden elevator and down the winding halls to the small room in which we'd spent the last forty hours. There were a few tables along the walls, and I settled into one near in the corner. The extra cup squeaked against the tabletop as I slid it to my right. Bex's head perked up as she tentatively took the cup. Her hair had long lost its shine, and the bags beneath her eyes rivaled my own.

"Thanks."

I nodded a little. Taking a sip, I tilted my head towards the one-way window. "How's it going?"

"Macey's only threatened his life twice so far."

"Well, that's got to count for something."

Through the window, Macey was visible, her eyes narrowed and glued to the boy speaking across from her. Preston was handcuffed to the table and had already been given so much truth serum, he'd passed out during interrogations. Twice.

Zach had already pulled everything about his sister's whereabouts for the past few days from him; Townsend, Abby, and my mother had grilled him mercilessly. Preston had answered everyone's questions easily, without prompt or hassle or fear. He laid out his connection to Alyson, the Circle, the girls who had been tormenting us for weeks. We'd put pressure on him, but through every tactic, he remained relatively calm.

That all changed the second he saw Macey.

Apparently, their history wasn't exactly finished.

"Boys are difficult."

Bex's and my heads turned away from as Liz slid into the seat across from us. Frizz surrounded her head, and her hands were shaking slightly because of the amount of caffeine she'd consumed, but she still spread a notebook out in front of us. Bex glanced at the charts and statistics before shaking her head slightly and taking another sip of coffee.

Liz continued, pointing out the numbers. "The chances we would all get—" she cleared her throat, "…boys, that have something to do with the Circle, not to mention have connections to these three girls, are one in—"

"You forgot about Mr. Solomon."

Her eyebrows scrunched as she eyed where I'd pointed on her paper. A second later, her eyes grew wide as she flipped the notebook towards her again "How could I have missed that?"

"Relax, Lizzie," Bex sighed. "You're exhausted." She glanced at through the glass again. "We all are."

Liz pressed her lips together and let her pen fall. It rolled across the table. "You're right." She blinked a few times before looking at me. "Have you talked to Alyson yet?"

Right. That. My boyfriend's psychotic sister who had been kept in isolation for hours after cycles of thorough interrogation. Multiple people had talked to her, but no one she had asked for had been sent into her room. Abby, Mom, Macey, Bex, they'd all had their turn with her. She simply smiled and talked circles around everyone. It was getting frustrating.

Zach wouldn't let any… forceful tactics be used. Townsend hadn't left the window the entire time she'd been here. The only remaining options were isolation or giving in to her requests.

I shook my head. "Mom wants to give it a few more hours."

Bex shifted in her seat, stretching her arms above her head. "If you give it any more hours, none of us will be able to think properly."

"Pardon me, if I'm not exactly able to sleep right now."

"None of us are, Cam." Grant pulled a chair over and sat on it backward. Beside me, Bex tensed before looking back out the glass. Liz frowned slightly, her fingers fiddling with the pages of her notebook.

Grant eyed me. "Look, I know none of you are my biggest fan right now, but if you want my advice—"

"We don't."

I half expected Liz to shush Bex, but she didn't even glance up from her notes. Grant only blinked before continuing, "Talk to Alyson."

After a second of silence and three pairs of incredulous eyebrows raising, he sighed slightly, lowering his voice. "Look, no one except Zach, Jonas, and I really know Ally. You're all following procedure, which is all fine and dandy, but not going to get you any results. Zach knows that. Which is why he's been trying to talk to Alyson all day." Grant shrugged. "Obviously they won't let him through, but you," he pointed, nearly flicking the tip of my nose, "you, have more influence."

I flinched as Bex smacked the table, leaning over me to hiss, "She's not going to talk to any psycho alone."

Grant rolled his eyes slightly, and I was grateful for the fact there was a table separating Bex from him. I was also made that Bex still used her long-lasting deodorant as she was now leaning completely in front of me.

"No one's suggesting Cam goes without backup." Grant hadn't moved back at all, simply watching Bex as if she wasn't probably figuring out where to punch him in the most painful way. "All I'm saying is that she didn't come here without a reason, and you've already gotten as much truth from her as you're going to get right now. The best course of action is to just talk to her. She's in your home court. You're in control here, and I'm positive Alyson is exactly where she wants to be anyway."

Frowning, I watched the long since cooled coffee swirl in my cup. "That's the problem."

Alyson looked a lot like her mother. That much was true. The hair, the eyes, the wicked grin, they were all Catherine's. It made the hair on my neck stand on end to see her on the floor in the same room her mother. She couldn't have known it was the same room. She couldn't have known I'd gone to see her the day she burned the school. She couldn't have known.

But when her eyes lit up and a too-wide smile spread across her lips, I could have sworn she did.

"There you are." She said it like someone playing hide and seek with a child.

Beside me, I felt Zach tense. No one had wanted me to go alone, and no one had been able to stop Zach from following me. Both of us were bugged. Down the hall, my friends would be monitoring every word about to be said. Everyone was waiting for a reason to tell us to come back.

Alyson didn't move from where she lay, staring at us over her head. Her hands were still bound, but no longer behind her back. "I was wondering how long they'd be able to keep you away." Red spread out around her head in frizzed locks, making her pale skin stand out.

Zach knelt down beside me, watching his sister with narrowed eyes. He didn't say anything for a moment.

"What's wrong, Zachy? Suzie got your tongue?"

At this point, it didn't really surprise me Alyson knew the finer details of my life. Though her grin when she said it did make me frown.

"Don't call me that," Zach said.

Alyson finally sat up, turning to face us. She scooted closer to the glass until she was eye to eye with her brother. "Why don't you like your nickname? It didn't bother you before."

"I've never liked it."

She tilted her head. "Maybe. But you didn't make a stink about it."

I put a hand on Zach's shoulder. "Why'd you come here, Alyson?" I asked. "You're smart enough to know where this ends."

Alyson blinked, her attention turning to me. She smiled like I was naive. Maybe it would have bothered me if people hadn't been looking at me like that since I was a seventh grader. But they had, and Alyson's little smirk didn't do anything except add to the growing inventory of knowledge I had of her personality.

Instead of answering me, Alyson looked down at her bound hands before holding them up. "Do you know how I got these, Cammie?"

"We're not here to play games, Alyson," Zach snapped.

She shook her head. "It's not a game, brother dear. I just want to know if she remembers."

"Remembers what?" My nails bit into my palm that was at my side. Maybe condescending looks didn't affect me, but I was so tired of not knowing things.

Alyson looked back at me. Her smile was small, but her eyes were catlike. "I told you this in Rome." She moved her hands a little. "The only reason Zach survived that last day in Blackthorne was me. The only reason my hands have been permanently scarred is that I helped him."

I felt Zach flinch under my hand. Her words felt familiar, but I couldn't place them anywhere in my memories. "You didn't answer my question."

"Fine," she sighed. Alyson looked at her brother. "I want to talk to our father."

Zach eyed her. "So you did put that together."

"Don't act like you didn't purposely tell me." She narrowed her eyes. "Don't act like I don't know your tricks, Zach." Then her eyes dimmed. She looked down as she whispered, "I'm done running."

Maybe I imagined it, but for a second it looked like Zach almost looked at his sister with sympathy as he stood up. A second later, he put his hand to his comm. "Tell Townsend he's been requested."

"Oh, and Zach."

His eyes flickered to Alyson. To my shock, her eyes looked vulnerable for the first time I'd seen them. Her voice was smaller when she asked, "Is Clara okay?"

Just like that, the sliver of warmth in Zach's voice froze over. He didn't look back as he said, "No thanks to you."

Zach

Maybe it had been a low blow. Maybe it hadn't been completely true. Maybe it wasn't worth making Alyson pissed at me again. But there it'd slipped out before I could think it through. She'd pushed Clara to her limits. After nearly killing people because I hadn't helped our cousin, after all of this stupid, vindictive game, she'd just left Clara because she couldn't handle the truth.

Cammie followed me down the hall. I didn't say anything; neither did she. The seething was a distraction, so I let it simmer. It was enough to keep the memories at bay. Visiting that cell, talking to Alyson, had been too familiar— too similar to the last time I'd been in this section of the school. A part of me wondered if Ally was doing it on purpose, but she couldn't have known what our mother had said when she walked in, she didn't control what room she was locked kept in.

"Do you think she's telling the truth?"

I glanced at Cam who'd been watching me since we'd started walking. "We both know she couldn't lie." Liz's formula was too strong. If Catherine hadn't been able to lie under its influence, Alyson wouldn't either. But I got a distinct feeling that Alyson wouldn't have lied even if she could. She'd risked too much in coming here to just lie.

"Yeah," Cam bit her lip. She did little things like that when she was thinking or stressed. I'm not even sure if she realized it. "Did you know she knew Preston?"

My feet paused; I looked at her, thinking back again. "I knew she knew of him," I said finally, "I didn't know she actually talked to him, no." I pushed my hands into my pockets. "I told Macey the truth when she questioned me."

"I know, I didn't think you were lying, I just…" She shook her head a little. "I'm trying to figure all this out."

I sighed. I was too. There was a lot to think about. My sister had walked in with Preston Winters of all people. She hadn't given any trouble besides refusing to talk to anyone but me or Cammie— and now Townsend. Preston had been cooperating and answering all our questions willingly. Neither of them had any idea where Evelyn was. Meanwhile, Clara hadn't stopped talking in her room, asking about Alyson every five minutes, spouting possible hiding places Evelyn could be using, or just singing to herself. They'd given her truth serum too, but it hadn't made any difference in her antics.

"According to Clara," Cammie didn't even blink as she talked about my dysfunctional family anymore. I didn't know if that was a bad or good thing. "Alyson has been on a downward spiral for weeks. Maybe this really is the end."

Eyeing her, I asked, "You really think it would be over that easily?"

"A girl can hope."

"Hope is dangerous in our line of work, Miss Morgan."

Townsend walked over to us, adjusting his own comm into his sleeve. He glanced between us, not quite meeting my eyes. "I believe your sister asked to see me?"

Why did it not surprise me that he would ignore me all this time, yet come as soon as she called? Sure, that was irrational, but siblings had a way of making you think irrationally from time to time. Wasn't that their job? Alyson seemed to think it was her job.

Cammie was about to turn and lead him back to where Alyson was waiting. Instead, I grabbed her arm. "Hold on. There's someone else that needs to be a part of this."

….

"Zach, I don't like this."

I snorted as I scanned my fingerprints. "I've gotten used to people not liking my ideas." Clara's door opened.

She blinked, tilting her head. "It's not mealtime." Her voice wasn't questioning. She was simply stating a fact as if we'd forgotten the cycle she'd been under. "Meals come approximately every six hours unless I'm being questioned. It's only been four point three hours since the door was opened last."

"She's good with numbers, I'll give her that," Townsend said.

Clara's eyes didn't move from me, but she did blink again. "DNA is strange."

I smiled a little. "It is," I agreed as I held out a hand. "Come on, someone's been asking about you."

She glanced from my hand to my face, carefully standing up. "Are you sending us away?"

"No."

Clara smiled.

No one liked my idea. I'd expected as much. Though, the barricade when we walked into the hall was a bit surprising.

Bex crossed her arms. "You want to put them in the same room? Have you lost your mind?"

"Miss Baxter—" Joe and Townsend started at the same time before Townsend grimaced. Joe didn't look away from Bex. "This is a delicate situation, but you must trust that Zach knows—"

"Sorry, Mr. Solomon," Macey said, her eyes blue ice, "but I don't particularly trust Zach at all right now."

Maybe I deserved that. Not everyone was Cammie. They owed me nothing after everything that had happened. I'd lied, keep secrets, and made plenty of mistakes. They didn't even know everything I'd done before coming to the Gallagher Academy. In a lot of ways, I was a wolf in sheep's clothing— a monster waiting to be let out.

"Sad."

Everyone's eyes snapped to Clara. She was staring at Macey and Bex, her eyes flickering between them. Cammie tightened her grip, glancing at me for a second.

Clara tilted her head. "You have no idea what he did for you, and now even you don't trust him."

Bex's eyes narrowed, but it was Macey who hissed, "Shut up."

"Miss McHenry—"

"Not now, Townsend."

Clara twisted in Cammie's arms, making everyone tense around her. But she simply looked at Townsend with curious eyes. Her stare was a little too wide, a little too knowing. "Your son left Catherine behind." When he didn't say anything, she continued, "Zach risked his life a lot to help them." She jerked her head back slightly, and Cammie adjusted her grip again. "To help her."

No one responded. Clara didn't shy away from the stares, if anything, she was thriving from them. Seclusion and structure had improved her further than I'd seen her in years.

"Now, none of you trust him." She sighed before looking at me. "You made Ally hate you, left her in a fire, and now you're alone again."

I pressed my lips together and pretended my throat wasn't tight.

Bex grabbed Macey's arm and stepped back. "Just do what you want, Goode."

Alyson didn't rush to the glass barricade when we got to her cell, neither did Clara. Maybe it was because Cammie still had Clara in a vice grip, but even when we got closer, Clara only stared at Alyson sitting on the floor. For a moment, I wondered if I'd miscalculated. It wasn't impossible that I'd fallen into another manipulation devised by my sister. Or maybe seeing Clara would make her shut down.

But then Alyson said, "You're okay."

Clara nodded, before looking at me. "Can I sit down?"

I glanced at Cammie, who raised an eyebrow. When I nodded slightly, she loosened her grip on Clara until the girl slipped out of her arms and sat on the ground in front of Alyson.

Townsend gripped my arm, whispering, "What exactly are you trying to do, boy?"

It was an excellent question, one that I hadn't exactly figured out the answer to yet. "I just… I want to know if Ally's telling the truth."

"And how is this supposed to help?" He gestured to Clara, who was asking Alyson what had happened. It was a question we'd asked, and Alyson gave the same answer we'd heard multiple times.

I eyed Alyson. "She won't lie to Clara."

"Zach?" Clara turned to me, her hair hitting her face as she quickly turned, but it was Alyson who had said my name. I blinked. It had been so long since she'd said my name without the hatred lacing her voice. Her tone was carefully measured when she said, "You took care of her."

It was a simple statement, but I heard what she meant. The unspoken thanks that she would die before actually saying. Nodding a little, I allowed myself to ease slightly into a natural tone. "We have some things to talk about."

Ally frowned, her hands clenching against her stomach, still bound. There wasn't time for her discomfort though, because Clara grinned and sang, "Family meeting!" It was such a familiar call, one that felt like a punch to the gut. From Ally's expression, she felt it too. Her eyes shifted from me to Townsend, and her frown deepened. She'd asked to speak to him, but she was still my sister. She would rather not have to do this— after all, we'd both made up our own version of our father to hate. It was hard to get rid of it, even seeing the real thing in front of us.

Townsend looked from Clara to my sister to me. For a moment, I wondered if he would leave or retreat into interrogation tactics. Eventually, he nodded stiffly, and said, "I believe some proper introductions are in order."

Cammie watched us carefully, her eyes questioning. I took her hand. Whatever strange or downright chaotic conversation was about to happen, I wanted her here for it. She was as much my family as anyone else in the hallway. She needed to know that.

Clara smiled, scooting closer to the glass, crossing her legs. The sight pulled at my chest. We'd fallen so far from our small little makeshift family, taking care of each other from anything and everything. Was it terrible to hope we could rekindle some fragment of what we used to be?

Not dead.

Haven't abandoned this.

But, hey, if you're gonna come back, might as well come back exactly a year later, right? Eh? No?

... I promise it won't be another year.