Drake shifted on the couch. "Maybe coming here was a bad idea. If you're already on their radar, we could be putting you in a lot of danger."
"I'm tired of hiding. This is the story that got away, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let it get away again. I'll help you kids as much as I can. Consider this your home while we figure out what to do next. I still have some powerful connections here and there. Sam, if you'd like, I can take a sample of your hair and find out what drugs you were given."
"That'd be great. I'm over the worst of it, but I hate not knowing what was done to me. This test... it's confidential, right?"
"Yes, your identity will be protected."
Bernard went over to his desk and pulled out a small vial.
I plucked a few hairs from the root and handed them over.
He slipped them into the vial and filled out a form. "I'll have these picked up right away. We should have an answer within a day or two."
He looked at Brad. "And you, what have you done with your writing career since last we spoke?"
Brad found something fascinating to stare at on his shoe. "Been trying to carve a niche for myself in journalism, like you taught me. It's not an easy world to break into."
How sad for him to feel disgraced in front of his mentor, I thought. "Brad does have a thriving blog, though, and he's using that to get our story out. He's going to be famous soon."
Brad smiled at me as his body relaxed.
"I may be an old man, but even I know the internet is quickly replacing print media. Hell, it's replacing print everything. I'm proud of you for sticking with it, Brad. Let's take a look at this blog of yours and see what we can do to spice it up. It's time I got my story out there too."
Brad beamed at the professor and grabbed his computer bag. They went to the dining room table next to the living room and sat shoulder-to-shoulder.
Bernard shouted back without turning to us. "Spare rooms are down the hall and to the right. Bathroom is on the left. Make yourself comfortable. Food's in the kitchen."
I stood and stretched. "Thank you."
His only response was a grunt as he focused on Brad's articles.
***
After two days with the professor, I knew my instincts had been correct. Not only was he helpful to Brad and his blogging ambitions, but he and I enjoyed long talks about ethics and the world of para-powers.
"So, you don't think powers are inherently right or wrong?" The mug warmed my hands, and the tea did the same for my insides.
In a look that I had come to recognize as his "thinking face," Bernard's eyes glazed over. "No, I don't. However these powers came to be, they are tools like any other."
Father Patrick had said much the same to Drake, I knew. I looked forward to meeting the man who had been like a father to him. When Drake told us of the priest's property and his willingness to help us, it changed everything. We now had a real chance to rescue my friends.
I took a sip of my tea and savored the spices on my tongue before I responded. "Criminals often argue that they are born that way—sociopaths and serial killers in particular. By your reasoning, anyone without a conscience can do whatever they please, right?"
"I'm not suggesting a moral free-for-all just because you have paranormal abilities. I am suggesting that the power of mind control is not inherently evil, as you seem to believe. There are situations when it can be used for good."
"But who decides what's good and what's not? Doesn't everyone think they are on the side of good, that their actions can be justified? How will we survive as a society if we don't have clearly defined rules about para-powers, especially if me and my friends are indicative of a new trend in human evolution?"
Brad ran into the living room waving around his laptop. "Hey guys, my numbers are way up! Sam, I got 500 hits yesterday from our interview. Lots of comments too. Most people think it's some fiction thing, but at least they're reading. I think you're right—we should do a vlog too. You and Drake would be very convincing on video."
I smiled, proud my new friend was finding success. "Right now?"
He grinned like a kid in a candy shop. "If you don't mind."
"Sure, let me just shower and put on some make-up. If this does go viral, I don't want to look like road kill."
***
The hot water scalded my body, turning my pale skin red. Voices from the past collided in my mind as I considered what I would say in Brad's video. Thoughts of trusted teachers, of past clients, of the students and their memories, rolled through my brain like tumbleweeds in a windstorm. Gar and Ana. Dead. Serena and Tommy, two children whose lives had been ruined because of me.
Professor Shaw—Bernard—had nearly died trying to uncover the truth about Rent-A-Kid. They'd kidnapped Drake. They'd impregnated me against my will, which felt like a form of rape... maybe worse. The violation weighed heavy on me, my only consolation being the connection Drake and I had formed.