46. Mirror

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MIRA

Everyone else headed off to school and work the next morning. I didn't have anywhere I had to be until around 3:00 pm. That was when Henry and I would go to find Heretic in her civilian identity and demand the truth.

All things considered, his family was very nice to me. Not friendly—but I wasn't the type to invoke friendly. And it was fine by me—after all, they were being forced to shelter a child soldier who let their son get hurt on her watch.

I was lucky that Carol Reagan was able to patch her son up like that.

I was lucky that I'd been able to break the metal table with just sheer will.

That thought stayed with me, when everyone left and I was lying there, on the couch of the Reagans, waiting for my next move.

I'd never heard of a second power set developing. I'd never been warned about it either.

Was it a secret weapon, built into us from Dr. Banning?

Or did it have something to do with the way we were born?

If I'd known where to find my birth parents, that would've been my first step. But I had no idea if City Hall or anybody besides Atomic Energy would have records of their Sentinels' births.

Still, I was curious, so I got up and opened the silverware drawer.

It was like something had awakened in me. As my fingers brushed against the metal of the fork, I felt a slight hum against my skin.

There was energy there, that I could just reach out and touch—

All of the silverware in the room began to rise, even the knives from the cutting block levitated in the air. I could feel a connection to all of it, to the pipes, to the machinery in the kitchen, the metal infrastructure buried beneath my feet.

I had to control it—or this new power would control me. I focused on the hum of the kitchen silverware, pictured a radius shrinking around me.

I focused on each individual hum, and it was like they were suddenly marionettes, bouncing on invisible strings attached to my fingers.

Was Verity's power like this, to wield it?

I couldn't help but smile, even if it was a sad expression. In trying to avenge her, I'd stumbled down her path.

I'd teamed up with an independent agent, I strayed from the path, and I ran away. Just like she did. They'd say I defected, but they would never understand.

I'd never go back to Atomic Energy, not now, not after seeing that they had created the death ray that they'd framed Heretic for.

Not after realizing that they'd treated me wrong. All of us.

We were treated like we were inhuman. I could see that now.

They weren't the good guys. I knew that much, as I set every knife and fork back down into where the Reagans had left them earlier that morning.

But how far did it go? And why were they doing all of this?

These were the questions I had to know.

How deep does the rabbit hole go?

I feared if it went any deeper, I'd be in freefall, forever.

But once I had my answer, to all the questions? To Verity's last words?

What would happen then?

I realized, in a beat, that I had no idea. I couldn't stay with the Reagans forever. I couldn't go back to Atomic Energy. But there was nowhere to go where Atomic Energy wouldn't find me and take me back.

Maybe finding my birth family was the next best step. Maybe they wouldn't want me. They probably never did.

But what if they did?

No court, no law would rule against that, would they?

I had to try.

Might as well leave, see if I can find them. I could at least start at City Hall and the archives. Maybe I could find a place to start there.

And if not?

Then I'd figure it out.

Besides, I decided it was better to just get out, to see the city as just a girl, not its protector. I'd gotten a glimpse of that just by hanging around Henry.

I liked musicals.

My favorite color was purple.

I liked lattes from Barkley's brew and POG juice.

I wasn't such a big fan of hot dogs with mustard.

These were the small tastes and preferences I'd developed, upon being exposed to a life outside of Atomic Energy, tiny things that made life worth living. This was what it was about—and it had all been denied to me.

This was just a small taste of who I was, I realized as I got dressed. It was like looking a window for the first time and realizing that there was an outside world. And it was like standing in a room full of mirrors, with a thousand different versions of myself looking back at me.

There was so much I could be. I'd only seen the superhero, the Sentinel, the weapon.

But I could be a healer, like the Reagans were, I could be a scholar, or an artist like Henry. Or I could be something else, beyond these archetypes I'd observed.

It was dizzying and euphoric, to finally realize my own humanity and potential.

I owed it to Verity to explore it all.

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