After our classes wrapped up, we regrouped in one of the school’s least traveled hallways—the one that led to the infamous exit. Everyone knew it. Everyone avoided it. Rumors said anyone seen near that door was “taken” by Mr. Drails. Whether that was true or not, the hallway gave off serious end-of-the-road energy. Cold. Quiet. Like it had been waiting for us.

  “Okay, so when are we actually doing this?” Malachi asked, arms crossed, impatience written all over his face. “Is it happening today?”

  “I highly doubt it,” Nikki said, shaking her head. “We’ve got way too much to prepare. Flights, passports, maybe even paperwork.”

  Malachi frowned. “So we’re going through Portland International Jetport, right? That’s our best bet?”

  “I mean, I guess,” Nikki said. “Not sure how often they fly out to Britain, but it’s better than nothing.”

  “Do we even need luggage?” Tisiah chimed in, looking at the rest of us. “Personal stuff? Change of clothes? Toothbrushes? I don’t know—I just don’t want to end up unprepared.”

  “We don’t have time to pack bags,” September said bluntly. “We take what we have, and we go. Nikki can help fund us—grab a little cash on the side.”

  Nikki nodded. “I can handle food and supplies. That’s the easy part.”

  “But what’s the actual plan?” I asked. “How do we find this base? How do we get the scientist out? What if someone attacks the plane while we’re flying?”

  “Finding it won’t be a problem,” September said. “I have the guide’s coordinates. I’ll get us there. It’s getting back that might be tricky.”

  Malachi frowned. “We were lucky to outrun them last time. Barely.”

  “Lucky?” Nikki cut in. “The vehicle crashed, remember? That wasn’t luck.”

  “That wouldn’t have happened if we’d just kept driving,” Malachi shot back.

  “The car flipped, Malachi!” Nikki snapped.

  The air got heavy. Everyone looked between the two of them like they were watching a storm build.

  “Guys,” I said, lowering my voice. “Maybe keep it down? We don’t want anyone overhearing this.”

  They exchanged glances but didn’t say anything.

  “Anyway,” September continued like nothing happened, “transportation’s our first move. Tisiah can use that shield of his if we run into trouble.”

  “How does your magic even work?” I asked him. “Like, are there rules?”

  “There are six primary elements,” September explained, stepping in. “Fire, water, ice, air, earth. Other powers are like electives in a regular school. We train with the primaries first—always.”

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  “What if someone can use more than one?” I asked.

  “That’s when things get messy,” she said. “You’re supposed to focus on one. If you spread your energy too thin, it burns you out. Teachers can even strip powers if it gets dangerous.”

  “Cool,” Nikki said, brushing past that. “Back to the real issue—what if we get intercepted mid-flight?”

  September shrugged. “We’re government operatives. We’re trained to avoid detection. All we have to do is board the plane. After that, we’re mostly in the clear.”

  Tisiah raised a hand like he was in class. “What about fuel? If we run low, we’re toast.”

  “We can make more,” September replied, like it was obvious.

  “Wait—what?” I asked. “You can’t just... make fuel.”

  “Yes, we can,” she said. “Nikki could create a container and generate something to power the plane.”

  “Doesn’t that kind of magic have a time limit?” I pressed.

  “Sure, but it should last long enough,” September said. “If not, we adapt.”

  “And where are we getting this mystery fuel from, anyway?” I asked, still confused.

  “There’s always something nearby,” she said. “A tanker truck, maybe. Close to the base, most likely.”

  Malachi nodded. “Planes usually have fuel ready anyway. And worst case, we teleport.”

  “That’d be epic,” Nikki said. “But do we even have a landing spot in Britain?”

  I winced. “Not really. We’ll have to pick one.”

  “I can land the plane,” September offered. “My uncle’s a pilot. He let me mess around with a simulator. I’ve got some experience.”

  “You can fly?” Malachi asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Enough to land,” she said. “And I can drive, ride horses, whatever we need.”

  “Alright,” Tisiah said, grounding the conversation again. “Where are we meeting before we head out?”

  “Can we park near the airport?” I asked. “Keep it simple.”

  “Good idea,” September agreed. “We’ll meet, then I’ll teleport us there.”

  “Why not just teleport straight to the base?” Malachi asked.

  “Too risky,” she said. “It’s wide open. Too many unknowns.”

  “What about teleporting inside the plane?” Nikki asked.

  “Nope. We need more intel before doing anything that reckless. We need a map or a guide—some way to know the base’s layout.”

  “So what’s the holdup?” I asked.

  September looked at me. “The holdup is information. If we go in blind, we fail.”

  “Okay,” I said, stepping back. “You guys head to class. I’ll see what I can find.”

  As they left, I hung back. My thoughts drifted to Mr. Drails—the person who dropped everyone off, the one always two steps ahead. Maybe his office had answers. Maybe not. But I had to try.

  I headed upstairs, keeping quiet. As I passed his office, I saw the door slightly open.

  Weird.

  I stepped inside slowly. Empty.

  His desk was cluttered with basic paperwork—nothing important. Until I noticed a cabinet in the corner. It was locked, but not very well. I opened it.

  Inside were rows of files.

  Most were boring—reports, old schedules, stuff that didn’t matter. But then I saw something different.

  A photo of a smiling young girl. She looked familiar. Almost like… my mom when she was younger. I flipped through the folder—but the pages were blank.

  “This is strange,” I whispered.

  Then I found another folder.

  It was labeled SEPTEMBER.

  I opened it.

  Photos. Dozens of them. All of her. But the pages around the photos? Blank.

  No notes. No records. Just… empty space. Like someone erased her past.

  My hands were shaking.

  I reached into the cabinet again and pulled out a set of old books. Dusty. Heavy. I flipped one open—and froze.

  A single file was tucked between the pages.

  This one wasn’t blank.

  This one was… everything.

  As I read it, I felt my stomach drop. My chest tightened. The words didn’t make sense—not at first—but the longer I looked, the more the truth set in.

  This couldn’t be real.

  No. It shouldn’t be real.

  I sank to the floor, the folder falling from my hands. The truth hit like a tidal wave.

  Everything I thought I knew—about this mission, about September, about myself—was a lie.

  “What... what is this?” I whispered.

  But no one was there to answer.