Whisper (Whisper #1)(71)

My body tenses again, but Kael tightens his hold on me and says, “It’s nothing to be ashamed about. It happens to the best of us.”

I finally push away from him. My legs wobble, but I’m able to hold myself up without his help. “I bet it’s never happened to you,” I say, unable to meet his eyes.

“Doesn’t mean it won’t one day,” he replies. His voice holds no judgment, no pity. “Now, are we going to talk about why it happened?”

“No,” I say quickly. Too quickly.

“I’ll rephrase,” he says firmly. “We’re going to talk about what just happened. I’ve seen anxiety attacks before, but that was extreme. And as much as I don’t want to worry you, you should also know you were screaming ‘I can’t stop — I won’t stop’ over and over, with powerful intent behind your words. If I hadn’t been chasing after you and nullifying your ability, you would have literally run yourself to death.”

I flinch, knowing he’s right. And more than that, I could have screamed anything in my panicked state. If he hadn’t followed me and destroyed the power of my words … I don’t want to imagine what I might have said. What I might have done.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Sure you do,” he replies. “You lost it because I mentioned your parents.”

I flinch again, this time much more violently.

“It was years ago, but you still haven’t dealt with it,” he continues, not noticing — or not caring — that every word he says is like a knife slicing into my flesh. “You’re still holding on to that guilt. You have to let it go before it destroys you.”

“I can’t do that,” I force out. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“You’re going to have to figure it out,” Kael tells me. “Because next time something like this happens, it might not end so well for you — or for the rest of the world.”

He’s right — again. I have to get control of my thoughts. Maybe then I’ll find it easier to get control of my Speaking ability. Perhaps the two are connected somehow. But I’ll be damned if I run that theory past Ward in our training sessions. No way will I tell him about my past, about what happened, about what I did. I still refuse to give him my name, let alone anything else.

“How do you know?” I ask Kael. “How do you know about me, my parents, any of it?” I step forward, closing the space between us again. “You said you were watching me since before — since before it happened. But how? And why?”

Before Kael can answer, his phone makes an obnoxious alarm sound, and he pulls it from his pocket, cursing when the display lights up.

“Time’s up, princess,” he says, turning the screen around to show me the clock.

I hadn’t realized it was so late; the zoo’s after-hours event will be finishing up in a few minutes, and any remaining visitors will be kicked out of the park.

Kael gently grabs my upper arm and starts retracing our steps along the tunnel. “We’ve got to get you topside before your Lengard crew takes off,” he says, each of his steps requiring two of mine, “and since we’re halfway to hell down here, we’re going to have to hurry to get you back.”

“You haven’t answered my questions,” I say, skip-jogging beside him. “How do you know about me?”

When he doesn’t say anything, I dig in my feet, halting us both. “Kael. Tell me.”

Every muscle in his body is locked tight. “We don’t have —”

“We don’t have time, I know, I know,” I interrupt. “But you need to make time. I need you to explain how you know who I am and what I’ve done, when no one else in the world knows.”

He lets out a surprised laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”

I’m not kidding, but I am confused. And Kael must see that, because the smile drops off his face, replaced by an incredulous expression.

“You really have no idea, do you?” He shakes his head. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but almost everyone at Lengard knows who you are, Lyss. At least in the Genesis generation. They’ve known all along.”

I suddenly find it hard to breathe again and wheeze out, “What?”

“In the history of Lengard, very few Genesis Speakers have left the facility permanently, and only two families managed it on their own without needing to be smuggled out. The Roscaves … and the Scotts.”

He pauses to let that sink in, but all I hear is a ringing in my ears until he continues, “You were just a baby when your parents packed you up and took off, but my dad — and later Falon and Vanik — kept an eye on you all. Your whole life, they’ve been watching you. Even longer than we have. How else do you think they found you in some backwater psychiatric institution?”

Feeling slightly ill, I say, “Falon said that their scouts found my brain scans or something in the system after I checked myself in, and that the readings matched what they were after so they picked me up.”

“You seriously believed that?”

It does sound far-fetched. “But if my parents were at Lengard, then that means —”

“They were Speakers, too? Yep. You’re Xanaphan-free, princess.”