I wanted to go back to our house in Quantico, like nothing had changed. I wanted to save people. I wanted to work behind the scenes, the way we always had.
But people didn’t always get what they wanted.
“This is where I need to be,” I said. “If anyone can give Laurel a normal childhood, it’s my grandmother. And I can’t abandon her—not after everything that’s happened.”
Briggs studied me for a moment. “What if you didn’t have to?”
I waited, knowing he wasn’t the type of person to bear silence for long.
“There’s a field office in Denver,” Briggs said. “And I hear Michael has acquired a large house not far from your grandmother’s. Dean and Sloane are in. Celine Delacroix has thrown her hat in the ring. Lia’s holding out for a raise.”
“We don’t get paid,” I commented.
Director Briggs shrugged. “You do now. We’ve got a task force running down the remaining Masters emeriti. The director of national security would prefer to keep any teenagers in our employ away from it, given the attention the case is likely to attract. But you’re no longer minors, and there are other cases….”
Other victims, other killers.
“What about Agent Sterling?” I asked.
Briggs smiled ruefully. “I proposed. She keeps turning me down—something about the two of us having been down that road before.” The look on his face reminded me that Briggs had a competitive streak. He wouldn’t let his ex go without a fight. “She’s put in a request for a transfer to the Denver field office,” Briggs added. “I believe Judd said something about making a move as well.”
When I’d decided not to return to Quantico, I’d thought that I was giving up everything. But I should have realized—home wasn’t a place.
“We could go to college,” I said, thinking about the others. “Graduate and enroll at the FBI Academy in Quantico. Do things by the book.”
“But…” Briggs prompted.
But we’ve never been normal. We’ve never done things by the book.
“I was thinking,” I said after a moment. “Celine more than proved herself on this last case. There have to be others.”
Other young people with incredible gifts. Others with no home and no direction, with ghosts in their pasts and the potential to do so much more.
“Other Naturals,” Briggs filled in. “To continue the program.”
Hearing him say the words gave life to something inside of me—a spark, a sense of purpose, a flame. Feeling that, letting myself feel it, I held his gaze and nodded.
Slowly, the newly minted director of the FBI smiled.
Game on.