The Complication (The Program #6)(82)

“The Program is coming for me,” I say in a quiet voice. “It almost got me.”

Nathan’s expression hardens, and he reaches to pull me into a hug. When he accidently touches my head, I wince. He gets to see the damage firsthand, and his body is tense as he listens to the details my gram left out.

I tell him about Melody saving me, her bravery. “She was different, Nathan,” I say, smiling softly even as his jaw tightens. “I got to see the real her. I think you’d like this version. She’s kind of badass.”

“I guess I’ll never know,” he says, avoiding my eyes.

“She wanted me to tell you that she loved you,” I add a little quieter. “She wanted you to know that part was real.”

Nathan flinches, swaying slightly like he’s pained by the words. Foster pushes back in his chair and comes to wrap his arms around Nathan from behind. He tells him he’s a good dude, and the three of us sit together, acknowledging that Nathan got pretty screwed over in this deal. It’s hard to see all the moving parts sometimes, smaller tragedies pushed aside for bigger ones. I hate that Nathan got hurt.

But Nathan doesn’t break down. He pats Foster’s arm to let him know he’s okay. He sniffs once, regaining his composure, and then he faces me with a new determination.

“How do we end them?” he asks. “How do we beat The Program?”

“I have an idea,” Wes says, coming back into the room. We all look up at him, and he’s so . . . cool about everything. Like none of this surprises him. It makes Foster grin, and I understand that feeling. It’s unusual to know someone without baggage. It’s refreshing, honestly.

Wes grabs a chair and turns it around to sit backward on it. He sets his phone on the table in front of him. “In my research,” he says, diving into the conversation, “I saw that Realm went to Corvallis quite a bit. There was a passing mention of someone named Anna Realm. What if I track her down?”

“Who is she?” I ask. “His mother?”

“I don’t know,” Wes replies. “I didn’t think much of it at first, especially since it was only a quick mention. But now I’m thinking this guy Realm knows how to stay off the radar. Is his whole family like that? Maybe, or maybe they’re like, fucking accountants—just living their lives while he runs around stirring up shit.”

Nathan laughs and covers his mouth. Wes picks up his phone to scroll through the Internet. “Just a thought I had.”

“It’s a good thought,” I say, earning a smile.

Wes goes to grab his laptop, and when he returns, I tell Nathan and Foster everything else I can think of about today, everything we learned. Even the part about being friends with Realm. I leave out the stuff about me and Wes since we’re at his house and that would be weird. At least, I thought it would be.

“I’m assuming we were all friends before?” Wes asks Nathan and Foster. They’re a little thrown by the question and exchange a look.

“It’s okay,” I say to them. “Dr. McKee was full of shit. I told Wes everything, and his head didn’t explode this time.”

Wes is impressed by my joke and clicks into a forum on the web page.

“Yep,” Nathan says. “I mean, not super-close friends.” He looks sideways at me because he and Wes had a strained relationship. Not jealousy in a romantic way, but in a “competing for my time” way.

“We used to play basketball,” Foster adds. “You were better than me.” Wes nods, liking this detail. Foster goes to stand behind Wes and watches him navigate the forums.

If The Program didn’t exist anymore, this would be the beginning of our normal. All of us together, ready to move on with our lives. Of course, that’s not what’s happening. Sadly, I’m not sure it’ll ever happen. Tomorrow, I could be rotting in a hospital somewhere, instruments stabbing my brain.

I shiver, and Wes glances up at me with a quick flinch of concern.

“Right there,” Foster says, pointing to a post on the screen. Wes lowers his eyes to read it, and then clicks the preview to dive in further.

“I think this is it,” he says, smiling at Foster. He pokes the keys of the computer before turning it so Nathan and I can see. “It’s a phone number from Corvallis,” he says, “registered to Anna Realm. No address.”

“But here’s the weird thing,” Foster adds. “The area code is for Springfield, pretty close to the Program facility there. It’s one of three lines she has. Why would she need three phone lines?”

“Other kids?” I suggest.

“Anna’s not his mom,” Wes says. He leans forward to tap a few keys and comes up with a picture of a pretty blonde with a passing resemblance to Realm. “Sister, I’m guessing. No mention of parents anywhere, so they’re either out of the picture or dead.”

We grow quiet at that suggestion, the sadness at the possibility of Realm’s parents both being deceased. I take out my phone.

“Well,” I say. “One way to find out.”

“Tatum,” Nathan warns. “Are you—”

“I don’t have time, Nathan,” I say turning to him. “I need Realm. Marie needs him, and that means so do I.”

Nathan chews on the inside of his lip and then nods for me to go ahead, looking anxious. Foster drops back into his chair, and I dial. I set the phone on speaker and place it in the center of the table.