“Elias Voss was part of Ghostwing,” she said. “He was brilliant. Dangerous. Charming when he wanted to be. He believed the technology should not be destroyed. He believed whoever controlled invisibility controlled the next century.”
“And you married him?”
Her face tightened.
“No. I loved him before I understood what ambition could turn into.”
That answer hurt more than a simple yes.
“You said he died.”
“I believed he did.”
“But he’s my father?”
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.”
The tunnel seemed to tilt around me.
I wanted to be angry. Maybe I was. But fear was louder. Confusion louder still. My whole life had changed in a single sentence, and there was no time to sit down inside it.
Aunt June called back, “Rachel, less confession, more moving.”
We kept going.
The tunnel emerged inside what looked like an old storm cellar beneath a detached shed half a mile from the cabin. Aunt June had an old pickup hidden there beneath a tarp. She threw the keys to Mom.
“Carter’s locator pinged once,” Aunt June said. “Before they grabbed him, he triggered an old emergency code. He’s at Raven Mesa.”
Mom went still.
“I thought that facility was sealed.”
“It was.”
“What is Raven Mesa?” I asked.
Mom opened the truck door.
“The place where Ghostwing was born.”
We drove through the night.
Aunt June came with us, riding shotgun with the metal box on her lap and a radio headset over one ear. Mom drove like she had memorized every road in America. I sat in the back, gripping the seat belt with both hands while rain hammered the windshield.
