Her eyes filled.
“Yes.”
The tunnel seemed to tilt around me.
I wanted to be angry. Maybe I was. But fear was louder. Confusion louder still. My whole life had changed in a single sentence, and there was no time to sit down inside it.
Aunt June called back, “Rachel, less confession, more moving.”
We kept going.
The tunnel emerged inside what looked like an old storm cellar beneath a detached shed half a mile from the cabin. Aunt June had an old pickup hidden there beneath a tarp. She threw the keys to Mom.
“Carter’s locator pinged once,” Aunt June said. “Before they grabbed him, he triggered an old emergency code. He’s at Raven Mesa.”
Mom went still.
“I thought that facility was sealed.”
“It was.”
“What is Raven Mesa?” I asked.
Mom opened the truck door.
“The place where Ghostwing was born.”
We drove through the night.
