I don't breathe. I don't blink. My mother... A runner?
"Laaaaaay?" Ryan waves his hand in front of my face.
I snap out of it. "That's impossible! You have the wrong person, I'm sorry for wasting your night." I stand up and rush to the door. Before I can touch the knob, the door swings open and two winded kids bump into me. I fall on my butt painfully.
"Jazz, Gabe!" Ryan grabs my hand and lifts me effortlessly.
"We lost 'em." Jazz panted. Still pumped full of adrenalin, she levered over one of the couches, threw a few fake punches, and whipped a police hand pistol out from behind her. "Got this puppy too." Then she tossed it to Eric. He shied away and covered his face.
"Chill out. it's not loaded." Gabe sighed, plopping on the couch and shuffling a deck of cards. "Who's she? She Faith's?"
"Yep." Ryan turned to me. "But she's still not convinced." He strolled down a short, dark hallway and came back with an old picture. An old picture of my mother. She had a tattoo on her right arm like all of the runners in the room. A messenger bag rested on her shoulder and her hair looked like it had been hacked off by a pair of old scissors. "But... maybe we got the wrong person."