Andrew Farley walked into the room like he owned the place.

  Because, well, he did.

  Leo’s father sat down at the head of the massive conference table at Farley Tech without looking at either Leo or I, who sat across from each other at the same end. While we’d waited the ten minutes for Andrew to show, I’d entertained myself by shooting daggers at my former best friend while I’d eaten my breakfast. He’d ignored me for his tablet, pretending I wasn’t ready to murder him for his manipulative bullshit.

  Once he’d settled in his chair, Andrew considered me, and I him. Leo got the majority of his looks from his father; the same slightly-wavy hair, general facial structure, even the height seemed almost the same.

  “Callie.” He said my name like a parent might scold a petulant child. “I hear you’ve been ignoring my son’s warnings. I’ve given him the chance—several, in fact—to get your cooperation. Can you tell me why you ignored all his attempts?”

  I frowned in confusion. Cooperation? For what?

  Andrew took note, and added, “He’s tried talking to you about Hubert Industries, correct?”

  “You mean, how he tried telling me not to have anything to do with them? Yes. But did he explain why? No. I’m sure that you, as a man of science, would need at least some reasoning or explanation.”

  One corner of Andrew’s mouth twitched. “I see. I had hoped that your relationship with him was enough for you to trust his judgment.”

  I scoffed. “This isn’t the 1800s.”

  Andrew turned to look at Leo, who remained impassive. He sighed, turning back to me. “I did not bring you here to argue with you. I apologize that my son didn’t convey how serious this was, and that it took such an unfortunate circumstance to get you here. Thankfully, your bio-screen was not accessed, so no harm was done.”

  I pursed my lips to keep my mouth shut; I didn’t want to be here longer than necessary. It was all a moot point, anyways; there was no changing the past.

  “We’re aware of your ability. Leo’s, too.”

  Was I surprised Leo had shared this with his father? Not really, though I’d hoped he would have kept it quiet like we had agreed to.

  Andrew continued, “We are not the only ones who know about these abilities and how they relate to LaShoul’s.”

  Well, that I knew, but I kept my mouth shut, waiting to see where this was going.

  “A subdivision of Hubert Industries has known for years, maybe even a decade. I’d suspected as much for a while, but only recently learned I was right.”

  I glared at Leo. It had to have been him. Fucking traitor.

  “What I don’t understand, though, is why there’s been minimal effort on their part in helping people like Leo and yourself. They’ve just been collecting people they come in contact with. They’re not taking proactive measures, which is concerning. Do you want to know what I think?”

  Not particularly. “What?” I asked, playing nice to get this meeting over with so I could go back to my life.

  “I think they’re looking for something specific.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “What would they be looking for?”

  Andrew grinned at me, and I immediately regretted asking. “We’re not sure. That’s where you come in.”

  “Me,” I clarified. “What could I possibly have to offer?”

  “You’re already in, are you not?”

  Oh, I could tell where this was going. I didn’t like it, and Andrew saw it on my face. He nodded, confirming my unspoken suspicions.

  “This proposal is multi-fold. First, we want to study you and your ability, along with Leo’s and a handful of others of course, in a lab setting to get more specific data than what your bio-screen has collected. We want to develop a way to help others.”

  “I can tell you right now how to help them,” I interrupted. “Gamma radiation exposure.”

  It was Leo who answered. “It’s not that simple. Something like that would need to be proven effective first. And to do that, we’d need reason to believe it would help. Meaning more tests and data need to be collected. We can’t just start exposing people to radiation without evidence that it could help.”

  Andrew was nodding when I turned to look at him. “He’s right. Doing things the right way will help more people than trying to sneak around with it. Not to mention, we need to consider the general public and how they will react to everything. That needs to be planned carefully; there’s been plenty of instances of deadly discrimination in the past, and we want to avoid that, too.”

  I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. They weren’t wrong, but I hated it nonetheless.

  “While we work on that, we want to develop your app. Leo proposed the idea to me, and I have to admit that it’s got real potential. That’s part of the trade; we’ll build your app from the ground up.”

  “What about that part with Hubert?”

  Andrew smirked. “We want you to keep contact with that little group and report back to us on any information you learn.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You mean, be a spy.”

  “Informant,” he countered with a nonchalant shrug, like the word used made a difference.

  Unable to keep still any longer, I pushed back from the table and stood. I began pacing while my brain worked overtime to figure out what to do.

  Andrews eyes followed me, watching me work through it all. He threw more ammo at it by adding, “You know that we’re attempting to help people with the rollout of the bio-screens. Hubert’s special little club have done nothing similar, have not shared any plans, but continue their studies and interviews. In this field, no one gathers that much information for nothing. There has to be a plan, but they’ve refused to share it or do anything with it so far. Which is highly unusual, don’t you think?”

  I paused my pacing. I couldn’t deny that his reasoning made sense, even if I wanted to pretend it didn’t.

  Why did Hubert want so much information? To collect people with abilities, as evidenced by the Organization itself and Alex’s role? But why, besides helping people feel connected to others like them? Was it to keep tabs on everyone? Make sure the information wasn’t shared with the public? Could they be looking for something specific, like a particular ability?

  The lack of answers and increasing number of questions I had was infuriating. Because now I had doubts about the Organization. I couldn’t believe I had been so blind before, naive enough to not realize I wasn’t asking the important questions. They offered to train me, and for what? Why did I need training? To prepare for something? What was the point?

  I wanted to scream. I clenched my hands instead, letting my nails dig into my palms.

  “You’ll need to quit your little interviewing job. We’ll pay you double your current salary for your cooperation in our lab studies. For the app, that will depend on what you can report back to us.”

  I let out a harsh laugh. “You realize that I’m not trusted yet, right? I’m new there. It’s going to take some time for me to work up the ranks to get any of that for you. And if I quit my job, that will probably make it take longer.”

  Andrew leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. “That’s no matter. As long as you can show us that you’re making progress, we’ll keep developing the app.”

  I tried to think of any other option and came up blank.

  Fuck.

  Finally, after a long silence in which my brain came up with nothing useful, I nodded.

  “So, Miss Navie, we have ourselves a deal?”

  Andrew held out his hand for a shake. I knew it wasn’t a binding contract, but it felt like one. Over the course of a single conversation, I realized I’d been living with the wool pulled over my eyes. I was still reeling, trying to make sense of everything and adjust my perspective. Thankfully, I had enough awareness to ask, “Can I get this all in writing?”

  For the first time, Andrew offered a real smile at me. “I’ll have my lawyers draw up a contract.”

  And as I shook his hand, I couldn’t help but feel like I was making a colossal mistake.