information in front of Faith was like waving a red sheet in front of a rodeo bull.
âReally?â Faith said, feeling the sting of regret all over again, followed by the expected welling up of hate for Clara Quinn in her chest.
Meredith took a long breath and felt her fingers grip the pen tighter and tighter. She wanted it to explode in her hand, for the ink to spill down her palm like blood.
âI know because I was in the desert with Hotspur Chance and the rest, and Iâm the only one who can make that claim. Nobody else in this room spent years with Andre and Gretchen. Only me.â
How Meredith wished she had a second pulse at that moment. Sheâd wanted it all her life, and it was fine that Dylan had gotten it. But Faith Daniels? It nearly killed her to rely on someone who was, in her view, foolish and ungrateful and unpredictable.
âThis inquisition is over,â Meredith said, glaring down at Faith and Hawk. âWe need Dylan, and we need both of you. Iâm sorry it had to happen this way, but Dylan is an adult. Heâll get over it. Heâll understand.â
As if heâd been listening at the door, just waiting for his mom to call him back in, Dylan reappeared. He left the door ajar, stared at Meredith, clenched and unclenched his fists. Meredith and Dylan stared at each other as if each were trying to read the otherâs mind.
âIâm sorry,â Meredith finally said, which were two words no one in the room had ever heard her say. âI should have told you alone, not like this.â
Dylan flinched, the muscles laced across the backs of his arms tensing. He nodded, almost imperceptibly, because somewhere deep inside himself, in the most secret parts of who he was, he had always known. Now that heâd been told the enemy was his own flesh and blood, he was surprised to find that it hadnât changed anything. The enemy was still the enemy, and his mom had done precisely what he expected her to do given the circumstances. She was, predictably, protecting him in the only way she knew how. Meredith may not have been the kindest mother around, but she had been right to tell him just then and not a moment sooner.
His eyes darted to the whiteboard for a split second.
Protect the States at all cost. They will soon be under siege.
When Dylan spoke, it was with a sense of finality and of knowing what was coming.
âWhatâs the plan?â
Hawk breathed an audible sigh of relief, and Faith reached out her hand from where she sat on the couch. Dylan reached out and held on to it, and they shared a silent understanding as they looked into each otherâs eyes. The pathway to this moment wasnât what either of them would have asked for, but it didnât change the fact that finally, after all the training and hiding out, they were about to engage.
Time to even the score.
Fifteen minutes later, the core members of the drifters rebellionâFaith, Dylan, Hawk, Meredith, and Cloogerâwere now in a position to do something theyâd been waiting on for far too long.
They were ready to fight.
Â
âWeâll be back, count on it,â Dylan said. He was standing alone with his mom in the giant warehouse, thinking about how badly Faith had left things with her parents and how much she had regretted it. Faithâs parents had died before she could reconcile with them; and no matter how angry he got with his own mom, he wasnât going to let that happen to them. It was selfish in a way, a sort of self-preservation. He wouldnât risk having regrets for the rest of his life. It wasnât worth it. Whatever problems there were between him and his mom, he wanted them put to rest, just in case. So he said a little bit more before leaving her standing there in front of the assembled rebellion.
âYou were right not to tell me. I wasnât ready.â
âI know,â Meredith said.
Dylan pulled her close into a hug,
âReally?â Faith said, feeling the sting of regret all over again, followed by the expected welling up of hate for Clara Quinn in her chest.
Meredith took a long breath and felt her fingers grip the pen tighter and tighter. She wanted it to explode in her hand, for the ink to spill down her palm like blood.
âI know because I was in the desert with Hotspur Chance and the rest, and Iâm the only one who can make that claim. Nobody else in this room spent years with Andre and Gretchen. Only me.â
How Meredith wished she had a second pulse at that moment. Sheâd wanted it all her life, and it was fine that Dylan had gotten it. But Faith Daniels? It nearly killed her to rely on someone who was, in her view, foolish and ungrateful and unpredictable.
âThis inquisition is over,â Meredith said, glaring down at Faith and Hawk. âWe need Dylan, and we need both of you. Iâm sorry it had to happen this way, but Dylan is an adult. Heâll get over it. Heâll understand.â
As if heâd been listening at the door, just waiting for his mom to call him back in, Dylan reappeared. He left the door ajar, stared at Meredith, clenched and unclenched his fists. Meredith and Dylan stared at each other as if each were trying to read the otherâs mind.
âIâm sorry,â Meredith finally said, which were two words no one in the room had ever heard her say. âI should have told you alone, not like this.â
Dylan flinched, the muscles laced across the backs of his arms tensing. He nodded, almost imperceptibly, because somewhere deep inside himself, in the most secret parts of who he was, he had always known. Now that heâd been told the enemy was his own flesh and blood, he was surprised to find that it hadnât changed anything. The enemy was still the enemy, and his mom had done precisely what he expected her to do given the circumstances. She was, predictably, protecting him in the only way she knew how. Meredith may not have been the kindest mother around, but she had been right to tell him just then and not a moment sooner.
His eyes darted to the whiteboard for a split second.
Protect the States at all cost. They will soon be under siege.
When Dylan spoke, it was with a sense of finality and of knowing what was coming.
âWhatâs the plan?â
Hawk breathed an audible sigh of relief, and Faith reached out her hand from where she sat on the couch. Dylan reached out and held on to it, and they shared a silent understanding as they looked into each otherâs eyes. The pathway to this moment wasnât what either of them would have asked for, but it didnât change the fact that finally, after all the training and hiding out, they were about to engage.
Time to even the score.
Fifteen minutes later, the core members of the drifters rebellionâFaith, Dylan, Hawk, Meredith, and Cloogerâwere now in a position to do something theyâd been waiting on for far too long.
They were ready to fight.
Â
âWeâll be back, count on it,â Dylan said. He was standing alone with his mom in the giant warehouse, thinking about how badly Faith had left things with her parents and how much she had regretted it. Faithâs parents had died before she could reconcile with them; and no matter how angry he got with his own mom, he wasnât going to let that happen to them. It was selfish in a way, a sort of self-preservation. He wouldnât risk having regrets for the rest of his life. It wasnât worth it. Whatever problems there were between him and his mom, he wanted them put to rest, just in case. So he said a little bit more before leaving her standing there in front of the assembled rebellion.
âYou were right not to tell me. I wasnât ready.â
âI know,â Meredith said.
Dylan pulled her close into a hug,
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