“Thanks for coming,” I told Leo and Alex when we were seated at the table, the food I’d made spread out between us. As if they’d had a choice, like I hadn’t threatened to zap myself to wherever they were and drag their asses back here.


    Okay, that was mainly geared at Leo, but I’d included Alex in the group chat to be non-discriminatory.


    My phone buzzed in my lap, and I glanced down to Amelia’s text.


    You’re saving some food for me, right? she sent.


    Obviously, Amelia, I thought in her direction, hoping she’d get it. Maybe one day she’d be able to project her thoughts, create a two-way connection. But for now, she’d talk to me through texts.


    She was currently hiding in my office-library, able to see all three of us and texting me updates to what the boys were thinking. Leo was her main target, but I’d told her that if Alex gave her anything interesting to feel free to share it with me anyways.


    Having her here also had the benefit of filling her in on everything the three of us had been working and deciding on related to the gamma. Though she wouldn’t get a vote this round, she’d be fully informed from here on out.


    I worried about her, feeling like she was my responsibility. After all, I was the one to trigger her ability and place her directly into the Organization’s hands. Alex had told me she was still learning how to fully control her ability in large crowds but that she was a fast learner. Her telepathy ability would prove irreplaceable, allowing her to easily identify others with abilities and help bring them in to the fold, like Alex had done with me.


    Early on, Amelia’s ability had been overwhelming. She’d had no control so had her ability dampened, muted, because that lack of control meant things were getting through to her almost constantly. That had been the Organization’s doing with some sort of medication or tranquilizer. Amelia hadn’t known any specifics, hadn’t asked them, and I was hesitant to bring it up to Alex.


    I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t yet. Would it open a can of worms? Was I worried I’d learn things I’d rather stay ignorant to? Ignorance couldn’t last, and I’d ask him eventually.


    One problem at a time.


    I waited until we all had food on our plates—Alex loading up with pasta, Leo starting with the side salad—before looking across the table at my former best friend with raised eyebrows. He knew what I wanted and sighed, dropping his fork without taking a bite and leaning back in his chair.


    “You’re not going to like my answer,” was all he said. He crossed his arms across his chest.


    I set my fork down too and glared. Alex froze, his fork halfway to his mouth, watching warily as I snapped, “And what excuse do you have this time to continue to hoard information like it’s your given right to decide what to do with it? Just because you’re rich and smart doesn’t mean you can just make all these decisions on your own.”


    Leo leaned forward in his seat and pointed a finger at me. “Okay, first, I’m going to ignore that last bit. You know that I do care and I do have reasons, so calm down.”


    A text from Amelia came through and I chanced a downward glance at lap to read, Famous last words.


    I had the urge to steal the air from his lungs so he couldn’t keep spewing nonsense. But I’d bide my time and listen to his asinine explanation while imagining how it would feel if I teleported his head over there and kept the rest of his body over here.


    Leo continued, “It’s as I said yesterday. Too many things we don’t have control over if we start sharing the information we have. It creates too many moving parts going off in different directions. There’d be no control, no safety, no regulation.”


    I was shaking my head by the end. I saw what he was getting at, but he was wrong.


    I leaned forward. “I believe we’ve kept the information to ourselves for long enough. It was a total fluke that we found it in the first place. And no offense, but none of are are equipped to do anything significant with it. We don’t have the right background to do more. There needs to be a team, or better yet, entire companies, doing the work from here on out. And let’s not forget that this affects people’s lives. Literally.”


    “Which is why we need to make sure there are procedures in place to minimize the risks! As Alex brought up, if people try to force things they could die. We can’t have people trying to develop an ability on the small chance it might save them.”


    “We can’t just sit here and do nothing,” I argued, throwing my hands up. “Can you at least agree with me on that?”


    Leo didn’t answer, instead stabbing his salad and taking a bite.


    My lap buzzed. Amelia. I looked down.


    Leo mostly agrees, but he’s hesitating. IDK why, she types.


    To cover staring at my lap again, I grabbed my fork and starting spinning the pasta on my plate.


    “Look, Leo,” I said to him. “The bottom line is people are still dying, now. Are you okay with that? Or should we try to help them using what we know about the radiation? Because if it’s the latter…I don’t know how else to put it other than we need help. Yes, it could become a logistical nightmare and will inevitably leak to the public. But that’s going to happen at some point, no matter what. It’s not a matter of if it gets out there, but when.”


    Deciding to try another angle, I set down my fork without taking a bite. “Remember when we decided on a point to share this with everyone? I think we’re there. Yes, it’s earlier than we planned, but…we need to get some preventative measures up, now, before people with LaShoul’s start trying to force it and accidentally kill themselves because they don’t feel like they have another choice. We don’t have the time, resources, or knowledge to do it by ourselves. And here, in front of us, is an opportunity to start making some real progress.”


    I glanced at Alex. He gave me an encouraging grin as he twirled more pasta onto his fork. At least he was on my side in this.


    Leo was looking at me when I looked back. My lap buzzed again, but I ignored it. We were caught in some sort of twisted staring contest and I knew if I looked away I could lose.


    His face twitched, as if to say something, before it closed off again.


    I had a hunch.


    “What are you not telling me?” I asked quietly. My head tilted to the side as I took in the slight widening of Leo’s eyes, the tighter grip on his fork.


    Bingo.


    And if he so much as thought of what he wasn’t telling me, Amelia would catch it.


    My lips pressed together the longer Leo stayed silent. But, to his credit, his gaze never wavered from mine. Then, I went for the kill.


    “If you really wanted to mend things between us, you’d treat me like your equal. Don’t repeat the past.”


    His eyes closed and he dropped his fork. He rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes, muttering something unintelligible.


    I chanced a glance down at my lap, quickly reading Amelia’s message.


    The first text from a minute earlier read, He believes he’s making progress.


    The next text, a single word, popped up as I stared at my lap.


    Therapy.


    Therapy?If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Was Leo in therapy? How did that have anything to do with all of this? I supported therapy, always, but it was so unrelated.


    Or was it?


    I was more confused now that I was earlier. So pretty much par for the course.


    “I can tell you, but this information can’t be shared outside of the company,” Leo said, interrupting my floundering thoughts.


    Alex scoffed, tossing down his fork and shaking his head.


    “You do realize that much of the information you have now is because I gave it to you, right?”


    “And you realize you have the same gamma tech as us because I gave it to you, right?” Leo countered without missing a beat.


    “Oh, come on,” I interjected. “Can we please just get along and quit the pointless bickering at each other? That’s not why we’re here!”


    Leo and Alex turned away from each other without another word. Because giving people the silent treatment always solved problems.


    “Leo,” I pleaded. In a last-ditch effort to get him to fess up, I reached across the table to grab his wrist. He stared at it. “Can you tell us anything?”


    His eyes were tired, defeated, lips pinched tight. “Um…I think the best that I can say right now is that the idea of creating a…not exactly a solution, but more of an implementable procedure, or guidelines, is being talked about. And sharing the information about the gamma with others could put that in jeopardy.”


    “How?” Alex demanded. “I think that sharing the information could help, actually.”


    Leo pulled his arm out of my hold and didn’t look at either of us. His voice was hard as he said, “Look, if Hubert shoves their nose where it doesn’t belong, this could all go south. We’re working on things, okay? We’re not satisfied to have just the bio-screens and collect data. We want more than that for people with LaShoul’s and plan to do something about it. You do remember that’s what got my father started, right? My mom’s death from it? This is important to him, even if I don’t agree with everything. So when I say we are working on things, I mean it. Let us do what we can without worrying what someone else might come up with.”


    “And how would completely separate research on it affect that?”


    “If someone on your side decides to share that information with the public prematurely, we may not be prepared for the fallout. That means corners get cut and people can get hurt.”


    I put my head in my hands and groaned. This was going nowhere.


    “Do we need, I don’t know, like a pros and cons list or something?” I muttered. “Because this is taking way too fucking long and I am really getting sick of all this back and forth. Leo, I get where you’re coming from. But I have no other proof that your company is actually working on things besides your word. Your father turned down my idea about gamma radiation treatment already. And what else is there?”


    I couldn’t take it. I stood, slowly this time, and took my plate into the kitchen. After I dumped my food into a container and stuck it in the fridge, I pulled out the brownies I had made last night and took a massive bite.


    With my mouth full, I said, “There’s not right or wrong answer here. Whatever we decide has risks. We just need to decide what has the lowest risk, or what has the risks we are willing to live with.”


    Giving my back to them, I texted Amelia, What are they thinking? And I’m about to zap your pasta over to you.


    Yay! Food! Leo sees your point about how to make a decision and thinks it’s logical. Alex is going to reveal the gamma to Goodwin either way and is done waiting. Also, you owe me more explanations about what the fuck is going on.


    Wow, miracles DO happen, I answered. I can’t say I disagree with Alex at this point. Of course I’ll update you. Once they leave we’ll talk.


    I stuck my phone back into my pocket and opened the fridge. I put my hand on Amelia’s plate and teleported it to my office-library.


    “So, Leo, you want to make that list?”


    <hr>


    Several torn sheets of Leo’s notebook and twenty minutes later, we had a mostly comprehensive list of the risks associated with each choice. Amelia had chimed in a couple of times, and I zapped her a bottle of water and a couple of brownies in thanks.


    The three of us each compared the lists in silence, absorbed in our own thoughts for several more minutes while we slowly ate brownies.


    Alex was the first to speak this time.


    “From where I’m standing, it seems to me that sharing the information and having an incomplete procedure is less risky. Because it’s going to get out eventually, like Callie said. Having two companies working on it instead of one doubles those chances of coming up with something before it gets out. Yes, it also increases the risk of that information getting out. But after their first attempts at people forcing it, they banned that. I really doubt anyone would share any information with the public.”


    Leo didn’t immediately argue against his point, which was a good sign.


    “And if the companies decide to not be rivals and work together, each could target a specific problem,” I added. Not that I thought they would, but a girl could dream of a world where corporate greed didn’t exist.


    “I don’t like it,” Leo sighed.


    “You don’t have to,” I countered. “But can you live with it?”


    “There’s actually something else we haven’t considered.” He paused to scribble a question down on paper that I couldn’t make out. “We’re making this decision like we’re the only ones who know this about the gamma. But what if we aren’t?”


    The question sat between us, heavy and full of implications.


    “You’re suggesting,” I clarified, “that other people unrelated to us may know about it?”


    “Exactly. And, if that’s the case, then I have to agree with you both. The information should be shared to better the chances of coming up with something in time.”


    I had the urge to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Instead, I looked to Alex with wide eyes. He was trying, and failing, to hide a self-satisfied smirk.


    “Logically, the chances of someone else already discovering this are extremely low without the tech we have,” he added.


    “But not impossible,” I finished. Leo nodded.


    “Yeah. So, as much as it could come back to bite me in the ass, I think we’re all in agreement then that we’re going to let them know about our little secret?”


    “Yes.”


    “Yeah.”


    Leo nodded again, once. “Alright. But I hope you’re aware I’m going to be tagging along. I don’t want them fucking up the tech.”


    I rolled my eyes. “I would have expected nothing less.”


    Shortly after, Leo excused himself, claiming he needed to do more work to make sure my bio-screen couldn’t be hacked. Alex offered to stay longer but I claimed fatigue from a day of work and the ensuing cooking and arguing.


    “I just need to recharge. We’ll catch up tomorrow,” I promised.


    As soon as the door shut behind him, automatically locking, Amelia came bounding out from her hiding place holding her empty plate.


    Neither of us said a word, just staring at each other.


    “That was such a—”


    “I can’t believe—”


    We both stopped talking. I shook my head and rubbed my temples.


    “Why was that so incredibly difficult?”


    “I don’t get why you were catering to him.”


    I dropped my hands. “What do you mean?”


    Amelia shrugged one shoulder and deposited her plate in the sink where I had put the others. “Two versus one. Majority rules?”


    “Unfortunately not. It was more like fifty-fifty.”


    She scrunched up her nose in obvious distaste. “But…why?”


    “Because the tech belongs to him, to his father’s company. If we’d done it without his agreement, I could get in trouble.”


    “So what?”


    I put my hands on my hips and stared at the floor. She had a point. But…


    “This is the best-paying job I’ve ever had. So, you know, I don’t want to lose it. Plus they’re going to do my passion project with me, remember?”


    “You can’t do it on your own?”


    I shook my head. “Not easily. It would take significantly longer and be significantly less…well, just less.”


    “And what’s all this about the gamma?”


    I walked into the kitchen, grabbing two wine glasses from a cabinet and placing them next to the fridge. “Want one?”


    We sat on the couch, wine in hand, while I explained everything in chronological order, beginning with the bio-screens themselves, Leo’s mods, our developing abilities, and the information we gathered in the process. I showed her my bio-screen, all the stats, even going so far back to the day we played around in Leo’s apartment to figure out what was going on.


    “So, in summary, people with LaShoul’s are kind of…unactivated? And the reason why they die is because it sort of rots their systems?”


    I blinked. “That’s…that’s actually a good way to put it. Yeah. We don’t know the details about what causes the LaShoul’s or how to treat it besides developing a power. We know that exposure to the gamma radiation from other people can help kickstart that process. I assume that any gamma radiation, whether it’s from another person or another source, would do the same.”


    “Was that what you meant when you guys were talking about a sort of procedure?”


    “Yeah.” I leaned back against the cushions. “Eventually, it’s going to get out there. Alex was a part of a trial of people who attempted to force an ability. He, um, he was the only one successful.”


    “And the others…?”


    “Died.”


    Amelia was quiet, thinking through everything I had just dumped on her unceremoniously and without warning.


    “This is a lot,” she finally said. She set her wine glass down and pursed her lips.


    “I know,” I answered apologetically. “I wish there was an easier way to break it to you. But as soon as we learned things, we were just more confused. This way you have the whole picture. Or, really, just our little puzzle pieces of it. It helps, knowing things. It’s how I was able to save you.”


    Her eyes snapped to mine at my admission.


    “I’m not an important person,” I elaborated. “I’d asked about how we could help more people and was shut down. So I did what I could, and me working on the app will be another thing I can do to help.”


    “And now sharing it with Goodwin,” Amelia tacked on.


    “Exactly. And thank you for your help with that tonight.” I raised my glass at her and took a sip.


    “I don’t think you really needed my help.”


    I scoffed. “Please. You let me know that I was making progress and just had to push a bit more. Otherwise I probably would’ve given up before Leo agreed. And, on that note, I want to circle back to something you texted me. Therapy? For him, or…?”


    Amelia shook her head slowly. “Not quite. It was like…he was involved, but it wasn’t all about him?”


    A horrible idea sprang to mine, and I choked on my own breath.


    “Like…” I lowered my voice to barely a whisper as I set my own wine glass down on the coffee table, “couples therapy?”


    Amelia considered it, adding to my increasing horror at the thought Leo would want to drag me to couples therapy.


    “No, that’s not quite right. I didn’t get the impression that you were involved.”


    “Oh, thank fuck,” I said loudly, collapsing backward dramatically onto the seat cushion.


    “But I’m not sure what he did mean by that.”


    “Let’s hope that whatever it is, it’s for the tight-ass’s own good.”


    Amelia picked up her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”