Chapter 17 - The Safe HouseThe safe house did not look like a safe house.
It looked like a quiet Cape Cod home with blue shutters, a white fence, and a kitchen that smelled faintly of cinnamon because Dana Wolfe believed fear was easier to manage when children had pancakes.
Ethan was transported there under medical supervision. Maria and Lily arrived separately. Richard came last, against everyone’s advice.
For the first time since Gate B23, there were no reporters outside.
No hospital monitors echoing in every hallway.
No marble floors.
Just a living room with too many blankets, two guards on rotation, and a view of gray winter ocean beyond the windows.
Lily loved it immediately.
“Ethan,” she announced, “your safe house has seagulls.”
Ethan blinked twice.
“Yes, they are rude,” Lily agreed.
Maria watched them from the kitchen doorway.
Richard stood beside her.
“Thank you for coming,” he said.
“I came for my daughter.”
“I know.”
“And for Ethan.”
He looked at her.
Maria folded her arms. “Don’t make that face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you discover poor people have hearts.”
Richard looked down, ashamed but smiling slightly. “I deserved that.”
“Yes.”
The days that followed were strange.
Outside, investigations widened. Harrison Global lost billions in market value. Executives resigned. Evelyn remained missing. Colin agreed to cooperate in exchange for protection, though Richard wanted him in a cell with no windows.
Inside, life became small.
Lily drew pictures for Ethan. Ethan communicated through blinks and a tablet that Richard had once considered advanced but now realized no one had customized for how his son actually thought. Maria noticed the problem in ten minutes.
“The buttons are too crowded,” she said.
“The specialists designed that interface,” Richard replied.
“For specialists or for Ethan?”
Richard had no answer.
Maria rearranged the layout with Lily’s help. Within an hour, Ethan selected three words on his own.
LILY. ROBOT. STAY.
Lily cried.
Richard had to leave the room.
Later, he found Maria washing dishes.
“You shouldn’t have to do that here,” he said.
“I’m not allergic to dishes.”
“We have staff.”
“I know.” She kept washing. “Sometimes hands need something normal.”
He picked up a towel and dried.
Maria watched him suspiciously.
“Have you ever dried a plate before?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“College.”
She laughed before she could stop herself.
The sound startled them both.
For one fragile evening, they ate pancakes for dinner because Lily insisted safe houses should have backward rules. Richard spilled syrup on his shirt. Ethan laughed through his machine. Maria smiled into her coffee where nobody could accuse her of forgiving anyone.
Then the power went out.
Every light died at once.
Ethan’s backup battery kicked in with a beep.
Dana shouted from the hall.
“Lockdown!”
The guards moved.
Outside, through the black windows, headlights appeared at the end of the road.
One car.
Then three.
Then six.
Richard reached for Ethan’s chair.
Maria grabbed Lily.
Dana entered with a weapon drawn.
“They found us.”
From the darkness outside, a woman’s voice carried through a speaker.
“Richard,” Evelyn called. “Bring me my son.”
Ethan’s eyes went wide.
Lily stepped in front of his chair.
May you like
“No,” she whispered.
The front window shattered.
