A box waited at the foot of her bed when Viv awoke and rolled over to start her day. Since returning home, Vora had mostly left her alone, leaving Vivainne with far too much time on her hands to stew in anxiety and plot ways to meet up with the heroes that wouldn’t pan out.

  The box, however, opened up a dark pit of dread, and she was standing on the precipice. Anytime this happened it always included…

  Vivainne cringed at the dress inside the box, and the note lying on top. Scrawled in her mother’s careful handwriting, the note detailed an event she was set to attend, and her request for Vivainne’s attendance.

  As if it wasn’t a requirement.

  She left the box open on her bed, dress untouched, then left it to retrieve breakfast. She froze at the end of the hallway, a step away from entering the kitchen. Her mother sat at the bar, a tablet propped up in front of her, a cup of tea in one hand.

  Her presence, and her smile as Vivainne forced herself to move further into the kitchen, set Viv on edge. Her mother almost never spent her time around the house. She was always out, either doing research or maintaining her image for the company. As she said, her time was too valuable to spend at home.

  “We’re going to an event tonight?” Vivainne asked as she reached into the fridge, pulling out a container of oatmeal she’d prepped the night before. Everything in the fridge was carefully organized, most meals prepped by a private chef who came in several days a week to prepare meals. She never allowed the woman to stay to serve the food, only prepare it.

  “Yes,” Vora said. “I’m accepting an award for the advancement of our prosthetics.”

  “I didn’t realize. You want me to join you?”

  “Of course,” Vora said, looking up from her work. “You said you wanted to get more involved, didn’t you? Aside from that, now that you’re not in school, you have plenty of time to get more involved. We also need to consider college options for you.”

  Vivainne stopped moving, midway through mixing her oatmeal. “College?”

  “I let you have your little… gap year.” Vora waved a hand at her, electronic pencil in hand. “But if you’re going to take over the company someday, you will need a degree. You need to maintain the family name, you can’t do that if you don’t understand what we do.”

  “Right.” She barely managed to force the word out around her teeth. It wasn’t the reaction she should have, but she couldn’t force her body to stop reacting to the news. This wasn’t a part of the plan.

  “Don’t be so down,” Vora said. “College really isn’t bad at all. It’s where I got the idea for all this.”

  Vivainne nodded. She hadn’t known that before; could it help her get Vora convicted? She wasn’t sure, but she touched the hair tie on her wrist just the same, hoping it had picked up the audio. Considering how little she’d interacted with her mother this past week, she was grasping at straws for information. If she didn’t learn something new soon, the heroes might think she was a lost cause. Or worse, that she was lying.

  “We’ll be leaving at eight,” Vora said, pushing to her feet. She gathered up her tablet, closing it before Vivainne got a glance at what she was working on. “I’ll be in my lab until then, if you need me. I’ll come home to pick you up.”

  Alone in the kitchen, Vivainne slumped against the counter, appetite gone. This wasn’t what she wanted, when she told her mother she wanted to be more involved. Going to parties? College? Was she supposed to be a spy for the heroes for the next four years?

  She couldn’t do that. She’d be too old. Most heroes began their careers between the ages 21 and 25, and she’d be pushing the envelope if she waited that long to even attend training.

  She needed to get her mother locked up in the next few months, or the game would be up. She wouldn’t be stuck like this for the next four years. There’d be no way she survived that.

  Dumping the oatmeal into the trash, Vivainne retreated back to her room, staring out the window in thought until her phone buzzed. Blinking, she realized at some point, the sun had begun to set.

  Mom: You have half an hour.

  In a daze, Vivainne dressed in the black slip of a dress, fabric clinging to every bone in her narrow body. Staring at herself in the mirror, she realized with a start how thin she’d grown, and reminded herself to eat more. It didn’t matter if she didn’t have an appetite; wasting away into nothing wouldn’t serve her goal at all.

  She did her hair deftly, keeping the recorder hair tie and concealing it beneath a simple, slicked back bun. Then her makeup, doing her best not to irritate her eyes and the contacts she was still adjusting to. It was simpler than she was likely expected to wear, but if her mother wanted it done better, she’d have to hire a stylist.

  As Vora promised, she arrived in time to pick Vivainne up, the driver stepping out to open the car door for her. They left together in one of Vora’s sleek black cars, sitting across from each other in the back seat in tense silence. Vora stared, long nails tapping against the purse in her lap. It was empty, but she was supposed to carry it anyway.

  “Are you feeling well?”

  Vivainne nodded, forcing a breath into her lungs. She needed to calm down. “Just nervous, I guess.”

  “No reason to be nervous, dear,” Vora said. “You aren’t even doing anything, aside from accompanying me.”

  Vivainne shrugged, shoulders exposed in the strapless dress. Freckles began at her shoulders, too dark if you looked closely, an inverse of stars. “It’s just new.”

  “You’re my daughter,” Vora said firmly, the conviction in her words clear. Whether it was pride, or a command, Vivainne couldn’t be sure. “You belong here.”

  As the drive continued, she resisted the urge to squirm or adjust her hair, refusing to bring attention to the hair tie. Her eyes stung, growing dry from the contacts. Couldn’t Recompense have made them self lubricating? He was a genius, after all. A super genius.

  Unlike her mother. Vora was a genius, but an entirely mundane one, and everyone knew it. No one suspected she was a super. As far as Vivainne was aware, she was the only one who knew of her mother’s power. Part of the reason she was accepting the award today was the fact that her advancements were entirely human driven.

  It was a platform Vora had built herself on. That normal humans could be and were on the same level as metahumans.

  No one would believe her if she walked out in front of a camera tonight and told the world her mother was a super, but she was almost tempted to try.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  The car pulled up to a massive building and a crowd of people, cameras flashing as they rolled down the road. Vivainne shrunk back against her seat, pressing her back into the leather. The car stopped gently at the foot of a long staircase, leading up to the massive theater and entertainment arena. She was sure she’d seen it before, for other awards or events, but she tried to ignore that world as much as possible.

  The driver stepped out, opening up the back door. Vora flashed Vivainne a reassuring smile before stepping smoothly out of the car. Her dress, black to match Vivainne’s, fell all the way down to the top of her heels in a silky wave.

  She reached back into the car, holding out a hand for her daughter.

  Despite her anxiety, and the balking fear at being thrust so firmly into the spotlight, Vivainne took her mother’s hand and let herself be pulled out onto the plush carpet.

  Cameras flashed. Voices called out, laying over each other until they were unintelligible. Vivainne blinked rapidly, aware she was ruining the recording, dizzy under the flashing lights and the roar of noise.

  “Smile,” Vora ordered, squeezing to Vivainne’s hand so tightly it brought her senses back.

  She needed to maintain her cover, and needed to gain her mother’s irrefutable trust.

  She plastered a smile onto her face, forcing her legs to move as her mother began walking. She looked where Vora looked, stopped when her mother stopped, laughed when her mother laughed. It was all she could do, plunged deep into water far outside of her depth.

  God, she was a terrible spy. She’d ignored every social group in highschool, refusing to go to parties, to participate in clubs, always arguing with the teacher that she’d do better on her own than with a group. None of that had prepared her for this.

  Only once they made it through the doors at the top was Vivainne able to suck in a deep breath, lungs prickling as if they’d forgotten how to breathe.

  Vora’s grip loosened, allowing Vivainne to pull back her sweaty hand and wipe it on the side of her dress. “How do you deal with that?” she asked before she could stop the words from leaving her mouth.

  “With grace,” Vora said, the words dripping with judgment. “Catch your breath and follow me.”

  Despite her words, she began to move immediately, forcing Vivainne back into motion.

  The crowd was more subdued than outside, though there were still a number of people, primarily congregating around the bar or the large number of tables positioned throughout the center of the room, all the chairs angled toward the stage at the far front of the theater.

  A porter directed them to their table, one near the front with several other seats marked, then directed Vora off to a preparation room. Left standing alone at the table, Vivainne took in the room. A few faces she recognized, from the news or from business dealings with her mother. Most were entirely unfamiliar, and she had absolutely no desire to speak with any of them.

  She should just sit down and wait for her mother to return.

  As she pulled out her chair to sit down, she caught sight of another pair being escorted toward her table and changed her mind.

  She spun around, beelining it toward the bar. She wasn’t old enough to drink, but what were the odds anyone would check her ID in this situation? And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t drunk before. A glass of champagne here and there, or a taste of wine at one of her mother’s events. At least it would give her something to do before the award ceremony began.

  She ordered at the bar, receiving her glass of sparkling wine before turning around.

  A familiar face greeted her, flashing a smile that said she knew exactly how much this would shock Vivainne. “What’s up, bitch?”

  The glass nearly slipped from her hand. She caught it, spilling sticky liquid over her hands, mouth wide open.

  “Darcy?”

  Her eyes flashed. Gold dusted her eyelashes. “Oooh, you did remember.” She finished off her drink, leaving the glass on the bar. “Come on, walk with me.”

  Vivainne stumbled after the hero, glancing around widely to see if anyone had noticed. “What are you doing here?”

  “I happen to be an attractive and famous woman,” Darcy said, sweeping a curl of golden hair over her shoulder, revealing a collarbone that Viv swore had been improved with makeup. Nobody’s body could look that perfect. “It’s not hard to get an invite. Besides, dear old Charlie seems to think you’re losing it.”

  Did Recompense really think that? She was trying her best, doing as much as she could to gain her mother’s trust.

  “Okay, fine,” Darcy scoffed. “I think you’re losing it. Charles thinks you need some encouragement.”

  “And he sent you?” Vivainne’s eyebrows raised. There was no way the heroes had approved this.

  “Jordan was busy,” she admitted. “And bad at rich people. So you’re stuck with me. Keep at it, babe. Sometimes things like this take a while.”

  “I just feel like I’m getting nowhere.”

  “That’s true,” Darcy said, and Vivainne’s stomach dropped. Why was she so bad at this? “But that was pretty much expected. You are making progress, though, considering she brought you to this. Just keep at it.”

  “I…” Vivainne bit her lip before remembering to keep her face neutral, smoothing her expression back out with a sip of her drink. “I don’t want to be stuck here for the next four years.”

  “Four years? Who said anything about four years? That’s ridiculous. You want to go to training whenever the next training period opens, don’t you?”

  “I do,” Vivainne said.

  “Then you’ll be out before then,” Darcy said. “Charles has already talked to the admins about you. If you don’t have the evidence we need, we’ll find another way to get it. We always have a plan B.”

  Vivainne nodded, the knot of tension between her shoulder blades loosening as they talked. That was good. It would be terrible if she couldn’t get her mother locked up by then, but the heroes would still be on it. She’d get out and leave her mother behind, and be able to start a life of her own. It would all be okay.

  Darcy slapped her on the ass, bringing a surprised yelp to Vivainne’s lips before she could stop herself. “Keep it up, babe.”

  She sauntered away, hips swaying, as people turned and stared in their direction. What the hell was she thinking?

  Cheeks blazing, Vivainne ducked her head and hurried back to the table, desperately wishing for the ceremony to start.

  The awards ceremony went by in a rush. Names she vaguely recognized were called, people making their way on stage, accepting a golden, gear shaped award handed out by a man in a sharp red suit. Speeches were given, cameras recording and snapping photos the entire time. Vivainne had no doubt they would end up on TV somewhere.

  Her mother came near the end, walking on stage with all the confidence of a woman who knew no one in the room could see through her lies. Her smile captivated the room, smooth voice gathering the scattered attention of those who had sat through far more speeches than they ever wanted to listen to.

  For as captivating as they were, the words were empty. Talking about gratitude, struggle, honor, and the reason she did this work. The reasons were lies. She wanted to make a name for herself, not help people. She wanted wealth, accolades, and the immunity to do whatever she wants, no matter how dangerous and immoral.

  This award would only make it harder for Vivainne to convince people her mother was an awful person.

  As the ceremony concluded, Vora made her way back to the table, sliding into her seat beside Vivainne and beginning conversation with the others seated with them. Evidently, Vora knew the others seated with them, though Vivainne couldn’t recognize them. The conversation continued without including her, something for which she couldn’t help but be grateful. If she had to try and talk with these people, she’d probably start screaming.

  At least there was food. She ate quietly, ignoring the way her empty stomach twisted, attempting to enjoy a meal that was far more decadent than she’d normally have.

  The hour grew late and Vora turned to her, laying a hand on Vivainne’s shoulder. “I think it’s time we retire,” she said to the others at the table. Goodbyes followed, Vivainne politely joining in, then they rose and left the banquet hall.

  Vora led the way, guiding them through the space with familiarity, Vivainne following as her heart dropped in her chest. Once again, she’d collected no evidence against her mother. Another day lost.

  At least she’d been able to speak to Darcy, as unhelpful as the super had been.

  “Hold on,” Vora said, catching Viv by the arm before they reached the exit. She pulled her daughter in a small staging room, empty save for one person, a man in a nondescript suit and sunglasses.

  “What are we doing?” Vivainne asked, eyes darting between her mother and the strange man.

  “Edward?” Vora spoke the name like an order.

  The man nodded, and before her eyes, he shimmered. The image of a man disappeared, replaced by the near perfect replication of Vora and Vivainne, including Viv’s dazed expression.

  “The fuck…?”

  “Thank you, dear,” Vora said, flashing the man a smile. He left the room the way they’d entered, and before the door closed, Vivainne saw them walk outside back onto the carpet.

  Fingers dug into the flesh of Vivainne’s arm, long nails biting grooves into her skin. “Cloak us,” she ordered.

  She was finally getting somewhere.

  Jumping at the chance to find evidence for the heroes, Vivainne wrapped the pair of them in shadow.