After a theft from the kitchens that had only been successful with 25's expert help, Haley manages to ditch him and find some lockpicks.
Well, that's being a bit generous. In truth, she'd begged off whatever might've remained of the tour by claiming she wanted to turn in, so after briefly scrounging for snacks, he'd shown her to the dorms and given her her room assignment. She'd settled onto the bed and spent a few precious moments reading through the handbook he'd given her, and when she'd felt it safe enough to emerge, she'd discovered that he'd conveniently not stuck around to catch her sneaking out and raiding one of the storage rooms.
She'd been lucky, but apparently, that's as far as her luck goes these days.
"You're new," someone says from behind her, and Haley freezes before forcing herself to relax and turn, slipping the lockpicks into her pocket as she does so. She hasn't any tissues or something equally convenient to pull out, so she makes a show of looking for one anyway.
"Yes," she says, shooting a smile at the other girl. "Um, sorry, but do you have a tissue or some toilet paper or—?" She waves a hand in the vague direction of her face.
The answering frown makes Haley's stomach clench. The other girl is on crutches, right foot bound in more than just bandages, but her eyes are clear. Haley's not sure if the other girl isn't in a lot of pain, if she's on some good medication, if she's faking it and this is the setup for another test or some equivalent, or if she's simply scarily good at keeping her wits about her when she is in pain. Whatever the truth, she won't be easy to fool.
"There are packets of Kleenex two drawers to your right," the girl says flatly, and Haley knows she saw right through the lie. "But you already know that. You opened it a minute ago."
Ouch.
"There's just a lot to keep track of." Haley tries threading the apology through her tone.
She's not sure if it works.
Probably not, considering the other girl has been here long enough to watch her search the drawers. Clearly, Haley is relying far too much on her dragon senses for things like sensing the presence of others, even in her human form. She should have noticed the other girl standing there. She should have heard her arriving.
If Haley had grown up with her brother, would she be better at all of this? Wouldn't she have learned to be extra aware of her surroundings if she'd had a brother that might pop out to scare her at any moment? One that would trick her, be tricked in turn, and laugh with her either way?
Would Jake even have been that sort of brother?
"New initiates aren't supposed to be left alone so quickly," continues the girl as Haley plucks a pack of tissues from the appropriate drawer and makes a show of blowing her nose before turning back around. "There are protocols about that kind of thing. Not that I expect you care, considering you tried to sneak out of the dorms."
Okay, that means she saw Haley leave and followed her here. And Haley hadn't noticed. Fu will not be impressed. Gramps really won't be impressed.
"I'm supposed to be keeping my feet up, so I hope whatever you're up to is interesting enough that it was worth dragging me out of bed."
Technically, what Haley is up to is interesting enough for that, but Haley can't tell her what she's really up to.
What might be an acceptable lie?
Haley opens her mouth, but the power goes out before she can think of a reply.
No backup lighting comes on.
Haley can't bring herself to be comforted by that.
The other girl curses under her breath. "What's your number, newbie?"
"98."
"I'm 23. I left my flashlight on the nightstand, so you're going to have to grab two. They'll be…." She hesitates. "You're in the drawer with the lockpicks, right? Third drawer on your left. When you're facing the drawers, I mean. Actually, the drawer beneath that one should have headlamps. Grab me one of those instead. It'll be easier."
Haley does as instructed. The fact that 23 followed her here for the sake of protocol—and maybe getting credit for stopping whatever she thought Haley was trying to do—doesn't bode well for Haley's ability to lose her, but the crutches do. Still, Haley's already got her lockpicks, even if 23 knows she has them, and she'll need the flashlight unless she takes back her dragon chi and gives the Huntsclan even more reason to suspect who she really is. 23 might know these halls better than Haley does, but Haley will be faster than her, and she's good at hiding.
She'll need to use this darkness to her advantage.
She can't let 23 suspect her plans, though. Not more than the girl already does. "Do you need help getting back to the dorms?"
23's eyes are mostly shadowed, but Haley can still read the look she receives to that easily enough. 23 isn't impressed. "Didn't your guide tell you anything?"
"Um." Haley doesn't want to get 25 in trouble. He'd seemed nice enough, at least for someone who's part of the Huntsclan.
"Never mind. We need to report in. They'll be mustering in specific common areas and sending out select teams until they figure out what caused this."
"But you're hurt."
"So?"
"So shouldn't you be excused from activities until you recover?"
23 sighs. "You don't get it now, but if you stick around, you will. Yes, I'm hurt. Yes, I should be in bed, keeping this elevated." She waves towards her leg. "Yes, I'd love not to be stuck here having this conversation with you, but I can do you a favour now and maybe cash it in later. Because that's how life here works. Nothing's free, and you always have to be making the next calculation. If you become more trouble than you're worth, you'll be treated accordingly. If you do something that gets you compromised, you'll be treated accordingly. You get yourself benched?" She gestures at herself again. "You better make up for it fast."
"And this is you making up for it?"
"I can still fight if I have to. Not as well, obviously, and not for long, and I'd definitely pay for it later if I survived, but I could do it. But just because no one would bet on me in a fight doesn't mean I'm useless. I can still cross-reference reports. Check through footage once that's up and running again. My head is fine. I can use it."
"Right. Sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Just stop wasting time and follow me."
Haley sticks with 23 until they reach the nearest designated common room, which turns out to be the Huntslibrary. Haley drops off 23's heels once they're inside, and she knows 23 notices because she looks over her shoulder more than once, but there are enough people here that it shouldn't seem too strange. Hopefully.
Haley essentially moves in a wide circle, as best she can with bookshelves in the way, so that it's less likely anyone watching her will notice that she's doubling back. Once she's back on the edge of the crowd, she can turn her flashlight off and—with whatever luck she has left—slip into shadow and eventually out the door.
Claiming that she's seeking an unoccupied washroom if caught is the best plan she can think of, which is not an excuse she expects they'll find acceptable, but it's better than nothing.
It takes maybe ten minutes for Haley to work her way out of the Huntslibrary and slip off into the (thankfully still dark) hallways, and she keeps one hand on the wall instead of turning on her flashlight as she moves as quickly and quietly as she can. If she remembers correctly—
There. Maybe. Haley flicks on her flashlight to be sure, and it turns out that she's a door off. She's not sure she'd know for sure if it weren't for the room numbers—or 25 helpfully answering anything she asked. Of course, if she hadn't been able to check or been certain, she might've been spending her time trying to open what could have been a broom closet for all she knows.
As it is, she finds what she needs, settles in by the correct door, and keeps the flashlight off for as much of this as possible.
She's not as in practice as she should be. It's not as quiet as she'd like, and she's jumping at every sound. If the doors are protected by magic as well….
She hadn't even brought a sack with her. She'd been looking for one when she'd been looking for the lockpicks, but she hadn't found something before 23 had found her.
Haley stops when she hears footsteps and scoots closer to the door, hoping that whoever it is will pass her by in the dark.
Instead, a flashlight beam catches and then moves to focus on her.
"98," a girl's voice says, and though Haley knows it's not 23, her heart is hammering too loudly in her own ears for her to properly wonder if this is someone else she's run into since coming here. "Why aren't you at a muster point?"
Whoever it is must have some authority; her voice is weighted with command and isn't trembling under that burden.
That's going to make this more difficult.
"I, um, was looking for a washroom—" Haley starts, trying to channel Fu and fully intending to spin some tale about getting lost and how she just happened to be where she'd been found. Coincidence, not design. Plausible deniability. Anything.
Instead, she's cut off by her father's voice softly exclaiming, "Haley!"
She's not sure if she can't breathe because she's suddenly wrapped in a hug or because she's too overwhelmed to catch her breath.
She hugs him back and decides not to question any of this.
Questions can come after the hug.
She hadn't known when she'd see Jonathan again, but she'd never expected to see him here.
"Okay, new question," the girl amends, her tone softening as the flashlight beam sinks to the floor between them. "What are you trying to do?"
"It's okay," Jonathan whispers into Haley's ear when she doesn't immediately answer. "You can trust Rose."
Haley blinks and pushes away from Jonathan to try to read his expression, only to realize he's wearing a mask, too. "You're on a first name basis with someone from…here?"
Apparently, she doesn't speak quietly enough to not be overheard. Rose sighs and says, "I'm not Huntsgirl anymore. If we get out of this, I'm not even going to be part of the Huntsclan."
Haley's stomach sinks to her shoes. Huntsgirl. Her voice had been familiar. Only, she's not Huntsgirl any longer? Is this…is this what the Huntsmaster had meant when he'd mentioned news not travelling as fast outside of the Huntsclan? Is this because Haley told Marco and the others what Huntsgirl—what Rose—looked like? She hadn't thought they'd be able to spread that information so quickly, let alone that there'd be time for it to get back to the Huntsclan and for Rose to face the consequences, but—
"I'm sorry." Haley doesn't know what to say, but that seems appropriate, even if it turns out this isn't her fault. Jonathan shifts his weight but stays crouching, reaching out to squeeze her hand now that he doesn't have both arms wrapped around her.
"It's fine," Rose says, though Haley would be pretty sure of the lie even without hearing Rose's clipped tone. "Just tell me what you're trying to do."
"I'm looking for the Aztec Skulls." Haley waits for a response, and when she doesn't get it, she adds, "The crystal skulls."
"Magical artefacts?" The way Rose says it tells Haley that she's not sure, which also tells Haley that Rose—despite being Huntsgirl until recently—doesn't know about them.
"Yes. I know there's at least one here. The Huntsmaster took it from me tonight, and he's been back here since then even if he's not here now. I was assuming he put it with the others. There are thirteen in total, but I don't know how many the Huntsclan has, just that it's not all of them."
Rose takes a measured breath. Then, "Do you know where the kitchens are? Could you find them from here?"
Haley nods and then, in case Rose had missed the movement, adds, "Yeah."
"Okay. Take Jonathan there, and I'll check this room for the skulls—and then other places I think they might be if I don't find them."
"But you don't know what you're looking for."
"Beyond skulls made of crystal? Not really, so I'll just grab anything that matches the description. I've helped catalogue these rooms. I know where to look for this kind of thing. It'll be fine."
Rose keeps saying that, but Haley isn't sure it'll be fine.
It's not that she thinks Rose might turn her over to her former masters, exactly, even if Gramps would caution her about Rose doing just that, but the skulls….
How can Haley just turn her mission over to someone from the Huntsclan?
Not that Rose will be with the Huntsclan for much longer. She's made that clear enough, and Haley can't imagine she'd be here with Jonathan if that weren't the case. He certainly wouldn't have said Haley's name or Rose's aloud if he'd had any doubts about where Rose stood on this.
Granted, this isn't—officially—the business of the American Dragon. Not yet. But it would be. And it'll be a lot easier to act now than it would be later. Haley's been thinking on that, preparing for when she has to explain all of this to G. And Fu. And, if she's particularly unlucky, the Dragon Council.
"Up and at 'em, Haley-hoo," Jonathan says as he gets to his feet and pulls her up with him. "Rose knows what she's doing, and we should keep moving."
When it comes down to it, Haley doesn't really want to leave the search for the skulls to someone else, even to someone she's trusted in the past. She's trusted Rose with her identity, but this….
This is different, isn't it? Not just a name and a face but power, the potential to change anything, to change everything—
The Huntsclan cannot be permitted to acquire that power. Haley needs to stop it.
Somehow.
Only, this is something she's not going to be able to do without help, isn't it?
Rose knows her way around the Huntsclan. She knows almost everything Haley needs to know but doesn't. She's a lot less likely to be caught. She might not be able to talk her way out of it any better than Haley would if she is caught, not if everyone knows she's no longer Huntsgirl, but she'd have a much better chance at coming up with a feasible excuse for what she's doing than Haley would as the newest recruit.
"Okay," Haley whispers.
If something goes wrong, she'll have to find another way to do this. As long as the Huntsclan doesn't have all the skulls, she can try again.
If it does work, though, and Rose finds them and they escape, then maybe—
No.
She can't afford to think about that right now.
Haley sticks close to her father instead, leading him towards one of the few places in the Huntsclan she's been.
Miraculously, they make it to the kitchens without incident. Haley's not about to risk a light when picking the locks, but despite the dark, she doesn't have much trouble getting inside after helping 25 do the same thing earlier. A little more practice won't go awry, though; she's far more used to doing this with a dragon's claw and feeling everything more keenly than she can with lockpicks.
She doesn't turn to look at her father until the door is safely closed behind them. The beam from his flashlight clicks back on, and she realizes he's pulled off his mask, so she doffs hers, too, stuffing it into her pocket alongside the lockpicks. She doesn't know how she looks, but the flashlight casts enough shadow onto his face that he doesn't quite look like himself. It might be because he's worried. She's not used to seeing him look so worried.
Even after she'd told him the truth, even after he knew the sorts of things that are really out there and the dangers as well as the wonders of the magical world, he always had a smile for her.
She can't see it now.
It comes back once he realizes she's looking at him and not around them at the industrial kitchen, but there's a tightness around his eyes that hints at how hard it is for him to summon that smile.
"I've got a memory potion," he says after a beat, holding out the travel mug he's been carrying, "and I know it's strong, but I don't know what the proper doses would be. How much do you think we can spread around in the food and drink here before it's useless?"
A memory potion.
Why does he have a memory potion?
She wouldn't question it from her mother—Susan's no doubt brewed them in the past—but her father….
She must have been lost too long in her own head, because the next thing she knows, Jonathan is hugging her again. "It's okay," he says. "We're going to be okay. We just need to do this first."
They need to do this first.
She doesn't want to, not really. It's silly, she knows. This is their best option. Regardless of what the potion does, it'll help. It'll give her a better chance than she has now.
On one hand, she doesn't want to do something like this to 25. He can't be the only nice one, and this…. This almost feels like what Marco and the others did to her. It's not, not really, but it's similar enough that she'd rather run back to find Rose and say they'll fix this with the skulls instead. There might not be much of a difference if it comes out to the same end, but she's tempted to cling to every difference in this matter.
On the other hand, stopping the Huntsclan—or at least slowing them down—is very much in line with her duties as the American Dragon, and no one will actually be hurt. Not physically, anyway, and even something this strong…. It wouldn't rob them of their faculties or of themselves. Whoever they are as people would still remain.
If it's a generic memory potion, it might wipe away a recent friendship, relationship, breakup, or fight.
It might destroy a secret or keep it intact once again.
That's what she wants, isn't it?
Then again, even something this strong could be reversed. Theoretically. There are ways.
She's not sure what they are, but they'd exist.
Granted, she's not sure how effective they'd be.
A possibility of a reversal isn't a guarantee.
That should be a good thing, considering the circumstances.
Why doesn't it feel like a good thing?
Haley lets out a shuddering breath. More likely than not, doing this will save more people than just her. It'll save her parents. It'll save her brother. It'll save Rose. It might even give the magical world a little bit more protection than they'd otherwise have.
Wouldn't it?
It feels like she's making excuses, but when Jonathan draws back and offers her the potion again, she takes it. She's never seen one so dark, and a cautious sniff with her all-too-human nose doesn't tell her anything. Still, 25 had shown her the soup pots, and something this dark should only take a few drops to taint the batch. If they stir a little of this into every bit of liquid they find, be it food or drink….
"You hold the flashlight," Haley says as she reaches for a wooden spoon from one of the stands between the first of the ovens and the countertop next to them. "I'll mix."
Haley tries to be frugal, measuring out the potion drop by drop and stirring carefully to make sure everything is well mixed. She hasn't made a lot of potions with Fu, but she's made enough to know the importance of that. If she knew more about this one, she could guess the effects of an incorrect dose, but she…she doesn't….
She doesn't want to ask questions she isn't sure she wants the answers to.
Jonathan didn't brew this potion, but he has it for a reason. He might be able to answer her, and he might not. She's not sure which is worse.
If it's a targeted potion, it'll attack and smooth over certain memories first, writing them out of perceived existence. That's the best-case scenario, depending on what the target is. A generic potion shouldn't raise a lot of red flags if it's only used on one person—she's pretty sure Fu's slipped something to a drunk human who overheard him talking more than once; even if they don't lose enough of their night to the effects of the potion, they presumably lose enough to not trust what little remains when it doesn't fit the logic of the world they know—but she might as well leave a signed note of what she's doing if this is a generic memory potion now.
The Huntsclan won't make excuses about what happened—especially if multiple people are affected.
Of course, even if it is a targeted memory potion, if she doesn't add enough of it, it won't be strong enough to take out everything relevant; the most recent memories would fade away, but something older would be clearer. How much clearer would depend on how badly she's misjudged the dose, but if she's lucky, the memories would be distant, the sorts of things that are more akin to snatches of stories from early childhood or half-remembered dreams.
If she's not lucky, they'll make what she's done painfully clear.
Conversely, if she adds too much, it'll be painfully clear anyway. At that point, she'd risk the effects bleeding over into similar memories—or overwhelming everything entirely, in which case the effects of a targeted memory potion would be the same as a generic one.
She can't afford to get this wrong, but she's all too aware that she's playing a guessing game.
The contents of the travel mug don't last long. She's not entirely surprised when her father produces a flask with more of the same and tells her that's the last of it, but she is surprised when he tells her to save a mouthful, just in case.
He doesn't tell her why.
She doesn't ask.
She doesn't want him to confirm her suspicions.
The kitchen door opens before they're finished, and Haley freezes as Jonathan clicks off the flashlight a second too late.
"It's just me," comes Rose's voice into the quiet once the door is closed again. "I think I found some of the skulls. Are you two done?"
Haley lets out her breath in a rush as Jonathan and Rose both turn their flashlights back on. "Almost. Can I see what you've got?"
She and Rose switch tasks. Rose nods in acknowledgement as Haley goes over her instructions—the number of drops she's giving a rough volume of liquid, mostly—and then Jonathan lets Rose know what they've already tainted as Haley sorts through the duffel bag Rose had handed her. She must have gotten it from one of the supply rooms—Haley sincerely doubts any magical artefacts would have been stored in one—but it'll be a lot easier to move the skulls like this, if hardly less suspicious than Haley's plan, which had been to hide one or two in the bundle of her jacket and carry the lot of it around in her arms.
Haley doesn't really expect that Rose will have found the right magical artefacts, but the first skull she picks up is similar enough to the one she'd seen to know it's one of them.
The second isn't. It's a glass skull, sure, but it's a dragon's skull.
Of course, Haley can't remember if she'd told Rose that the skulls were supposed to be representations of human skulls.
Apparently, she hadn't.
Haley sorts through the bag, counting up the ones she thinks are the Aztec Skulls, and reaches twelve. There are a couple she's not certain of, but—
Twelve.
If she's right, if these are twelve of the thirteen and Marty's found the last skull that's there to be found—
"Save a swallow," Jonathan says to Rose. "Just in case."
Haley looks over her shoulder to see Rose handing the flask back to Jonathan. "I saved two."
Two.
One for each of them?
Or enough to ensure that everything that needs to be forgotten is gone?
Jonathan worries his lower lip. "Have we done enough? You don't have to—"
"I do. And I hope that we have. I don't know that all the elders eat out of the kitchens and not something they procure themselves, but this is the best we can do short of trying to get it into the city's water supply, and that would be more trouble than it's worth."
Haley blinks.
"Come on," Rose says. "I'll take you two to the maintenance room. I didn't see Jake or Susan before I came here, so I still need to get to surveillance and records before I leave. I don't know how much longer Spud can keep this up, and I'd rather not have to resort to hitting the self-destruct button."
"There's a self-destruct button?" Jonathan chokes out before Haley can even think to form the words. "What— Why?"
"In case the base is infiltrated by magical creatures and containment isn't an option."
"But—but all the people—"
"The Huntsclan is no stranger to making sacrifices," Rose says flatly. "They would rather destroy some of their own along with the magical creatures they're hunting than play it safe and risk letting magical creatures go free—especially if those magical creatures are spies."
Haley shivers, all too aware of what Rose hasn't explicitly said: that her presence here would be enough for someone else to hit that self-destruct button if they discover that Haley is the American Dragon.
23 wouldn't suspect anything, would she?
"Would it even work with the power out?" asks Jonathan. "Since whatever backup systems you have don't seem to be working?"
"I don't know," admits Rose. "I don't know if Spud would have bothered to disable something like that when he wouldn't expect it to activate in the first place." She takes a breath. "It doesn't matter. Jake can get you out from the maintenance room. Don't worry about me."
Haley doesn't like that.
Judging by the worried expression on Jonathan's face, he doesn't, either.
Still, neither of them argue, and it isn't long before they're masked and following Rose in the darkness again. Jonathan takes the rear with the bag of skulls over one shoulder, braced as best as he can manage it to keep them quiet with one hand, and he holds Haley's hand with the other. She's caught in the middle, but Rose is careful never to pull free from Haley's other hand, and they make it work.
They hear movement in the distance more than once, and Rose halts them a few times and presses them back to avoid the flashlights of roaming patrols, but they make it to the maintenance room.
Susan and Jake aren't there.
Rose shows them the exit 'in case of emergency' before vanishing with a firm wait here.
Haley shivers, and she doesn't think it's because she's chilled. "What if this doesn't work?"
"We don't know that it won't."
Those aren't quite the words of comfort she'd hoped for from her father. "But what if it doesn't?"
"Then we'll see what options we have left, and we'll try again."
Haley blinks back sudden tears and leans into Jonathan, part of her wanting to leave with him right now and part of her terrified that if they do leave, she'll never see her mother or her brother again.
Or Rose.
It's strange, maybe, that she already thinks of Rose as a friend, even though their first encounter hardly came about through the best of circumstances. She knows Rose is Jake's friend, but Jonathan vouching for her means more to Haley when she knows so little of her brother.
Jonathan wraps his arms around her. "We'll get through this," he murmurs, and she nods against his chest and sniffles. She doesn't know how long they can stay like this, but it feels safe even when it's not, and she doesn't want it to end.
It does, of course.
These things always do.
Haley hears the thrum of machinery before she lifts her head and sees the lights slowly warming up and brightening above them, and Jonathan pulls her into his arms and picks her up before she can fully comprehend what it means.
He opens the hatch Rose showed them and helps her through before lifting up the bag of skulls. She pushes it away to make room for him to come up and watches as he glances over his shoulder in the direction of the door. She can't see it from here, and she's not sure he can, either.
"Dad?"
He looks back at her and smiles, but it's a sad smile, one he's forcing just for her; it's not a real smile. "Run as far from here as you can, okay?"
"No!" It comes out louder than she intends, and she tries to lower her voice, but it doesn't help much. "If you're not coming with me, I'm not leaving!"
Judging by the flash of panic on her father's face, they both hear the door to the maintenance room opening even though it's a near-silent click as the handle is turned.
Jonathan puts a finger to his lips, mouths I'm sorry, and starts to shut the door on the passageway.
To shut her away.
Haley leaves the bag of skulls where it is and dives through the opening before it disappears, instinctively trying—and failing—to call out her wings to slow her fall before she hits the floor. It knocks the breath out of her, stealing with it a strangled cry of surprise even though she should have known better. She curls onto her side and breathes through the pain, looking over to see Jonathan shove the door to the passageway closed again. It's sealed away so well her human eyes can't pick it out in the poor light even though she knows it's there.
How had Jake and Rose ever found it?
Had they ever noticed it before Jake came into his powers?
Had someone else showed it to them?
That doesn't matter now. She can ask later. Right now…. There isn't anywhere to hide, and it would be a moot point after the noise she'd made. Jonathan pulls her into a sitting position beside him as he kneels on the floor and hands her something he pulled out of his pocket.
String?
Not just string, she realizes. The ball is too heavy. She prods at the ball until it yields its secrets.
String and a pocketknife.
Because she only has human claws.
Haley swallows but grips the knife tighter instead of handing it back.
Jonathan's already using what looks like the tip of the bottle opener from his own pocketknife as a screwdriver, and he moves to loosen a third screw as he says, "I'm still checking on things in here."
Haley doesn't even know how he found the proper attachment so quickly. She certainly can't tell which is the equivalent on hers at a glance, and it looks like the same knife he's using.
"Anyone on maintenance would have headlamps," a boy says from beside her, and Haley starts because she hadn't heard him coming even though she'd known someone would.
The patch on his arm says he's Huntsboy No. 66, but….
"Where's Susan?" asks Jonathan.
"Where's 93?" counters Jake, for it really must be Jake, but it's clear enough that he doesn't expect an answer. His eyes flick to her, and Haley reaches for Jonathan's hand as she tries not to think about what Jake's lack of answer means. "You need to get out of here."
"We all do." Her voice doesn't come out as strongly as she wants it to. She clears her throat, ready to try again, but he's already walking past her and wrenching open the door to the passageway.
"Out," he says. "Now. Just don't go home or to the shop."
"We have to go to the Pantheon." Eventually, anyway. If she can find a way to contact Marty, this can all be over.
She sees the frown on Jake's face, but he doesn't question her. "Then go there, but at least hide. It's too exposed to be safe."
"Jake," Jonathan says, "where's Susan?"
"Coming," is the answer, but Haley can't tell if it's a lie.
She's not sure if Jonathan believes it, either, but he nods. This time, when he helps her into the passage, he follows.
Jake doesn't.
He closes the door on them instead.
