Chapter 4:
The Weight of Change
The gray sky outside cast a pale, muted light into Jay's room. He sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by boxes filled with fragments of his old life. Action figures with missing limbs, comic books with bent covers, and dusty trophies stared back at him.
Jay picked up a small Sonic the Hedgehog figure. Its paint was chipped, and its spiky head was scratched from years of rough play. "This guy's practically a fossil," Kenny said, standing nearby with a smirk.
Jay rolled his eyes, setting Sonic aside. "Yeah, well, I was ten. Sue me."
Kenny picked up the figure and turned it over in his hand. "You know, this might actually be worth something now. I should sell it and retire."
"Keep it, Brainiac," Jay said dryly. "Consider it my gift to you for helping me with all this."
Kenny laughed, tossing the figure back into the box. "Nah, I'll let you hold onto your childhood. Barely, though."
As Jay unpacked, the room began to take shape. The childish wallpaper and creaky floorboards hadn't changed, but the clutter of band posters, a motorbike replica Melanie had given him as a joke, and scattered basketball memorabilia started to feel more like him.
The Pizza Rolls Interruption
"Hey, JJ!" Molly called from the hallway, poking her head through the door. "Do you and Kenny want pizza rolls?"
Jay glanced up from the monitor he was holding. "Yeah, sure. And grab me a soda while you're at it, twerp."
Molly arched an eyebrow. "Only if you ask nicely."
Jay sighed dramatically. "Fine. Could you please grab me a soda, greatest sister in the world?"
Molly smiled triumphantly. "That's more like it. I'll be back."
As she disappeared down the hallway, Kenny chuckled. "You really let her boss you around, huh?"
"She's 12 going on 40," Jay muttered. "Hard to argue with that."
Kenny crouched by a tower computer he'd just pulled from one of the boxes. "Hey, is this your PC?"
Jay looked over, frowning. "No, mine's still in the corner."
"Must've gotten mixed in during the move," Kenny said, plugging in cables. "I'll get it set up anyway."
Jay shrugged, distracted by another box of clothes he was sorting through. "Cool. Just don't mess with it too much. It's probably junk."
Kenny booted up the machine, the soft hum of the fan filling the room. A few seconds later, the desktop flickered to life, revealing a folder labeled "Jan White."
"Uh, Jay," Kenny said slowly, his brow furrowing. "This is your mom's computer."
Jay turned, irritation flashing across his face. "So? Just turn it off and set up mine."
But Kenny didn't move. His eyes were glued to the screen as he clicked on the folder. A flurry of dense graphs, chemical schematics, and technical files filled the screen. "Dude," Kenny murmured, "this isn't just science crap. This is…something else."
Jay moved to his side, his annoyance growing. "What are you talking about?"
"It's her old work," Kenny said, scrolling through the files. "Stuff she was working on back when she was at Raven Industries. There's data here about chemical compositions, delivery systems, even…weapons."
Jay's stomach twisted. "Weapons? No way. My mom wasn't into that kind of stuff."
"I don't think she was either," Kenny said, his voice cautious. "But this isn't like her Project Orion stuff. This is something different. Look."
He opened a file titled "Jan White—Logs." A series of dates and notes appeared, detailing experiments, test results, and vague mentions of "concerns about misuse."
Molly returned with a tray of pizza rolls and sodas, placing it carefully on the desk. "Okay, what's the big secret? You guys look like you just discovered gold."
"It's nothing," Jay said quickly, but Molly wasn't buying it.
"JJ, I'm not an idiot," she said, crossing her arms. "What's on the computer?"
"Just some files Mom worked on," Jay said, trying to sound casual. "It's no big deal."
Molly frowned but didn't press further. "Fine. But if you're going to spend all night brooding, at least eat something." She left the room with a pointed glance.
Kenny closed the folder and pulled up a browser. "I'm gonna look up this Jan White person. Maybe she left a paper trail."
Jay nodded, watching as Kenny typed the name into a search engine. The first few results were dry—academic papers, a LinkedIn profile, a mention in an old company newsletter. But then Kenny froze, his eyes widening.
"What is it?" Jay asked, leaning closer.
Kenny turned the screen toward him. "She's dead, Jay. Died the same week your mom was shot."
Jay stared at the screen, his chest tightening. The obituary was brief and clinical, listing Jan White as a former employee of Raven Industries. The cause of death was officially listed as an accident, but something about it felt off.
"That's…too close to be a coincidence," Jay muttered.
"No kidding," Kenny said, scrolling through more articles. "First her, then your mom? Someone didn't want them talking."
Jay swallowed hard, his thoughts racing. He remembered Helen's words, her quiet frustration with her old job, the way she always changed the subject when he asked about her time at Raven.
"What the hell was going on at that place?" Jay murmured.
"I don't know," Kenny replied, "but we need to find out."
Jay nodded, his fists clenching. His grief burned into something sharper determination. "We owe it to her both of them."