Chapter 6 - The Night I DiedI didn't know what he meant.

Nobody did.

Or at least, nobody was talking.

Vincent got us back onto the aircraft and ordered the pilot to take off immediately.

The old man never tried to stop us.

That frightened me more than if he had.

We flew south again.

This time Vincent sat opposite me.

He looked older.

"What happened when I was six?" I asked.

He remained silent.

"Tell me."

"I don't know everything."

"Tell me what you know."

He rubbed his forehead.

"When you were six, there was an incident."

"Where?"

"In Manhattan."

"What kind?"

He looked at Maya.

Then at me.

"A fire."

I remembered smoke.

That was all.

A dream I sometimes had.

A hallway.

A red door.

Someone shouting my name.

Then darkness.

"I was in a fire?"

"Yes."

"Did I die?"

"No."

"Then why did he say I remember dying?"

Vincent looked out the window.

"Because everyone believed you had."

My heart stopped.

"Everyone?"

"Your mother disappeared for months."

"And me?"

"You were listed as deceased."

I stared at him.

"Why?"

"Because it protected you."

"From whom?"

"The Ravens."

"Who are they?"

Vincent looked at the baby.

Then at me.

"They've been inside my family for a very long time."

I didn't understand.

"Inside your family?"

"People you trust."

He paused.

"People you would never suspect."

The baby stirred.

I walked over and touched his blanket.

He calmed.

Vincent watched me.

"What's his name?"

"Luca."

"Luca Moretti."

"Yes."

I smiled faintly.

"Luca."

The baby opened his eyes.

I whispered, "You're scared."

Vincent said quietly, "He's been scared since he was born."

"Why?"

"His mother died."

I looked at him.

"What happened?"

"She was killed."

The words were flat.

But his face wasn't.

"By the Ravens?"

"We think so."

I looked at Luca.

Then at Vincent.

"Did my mother know his mother?"

"Yes."

"How?"

He hesitated.

"Because your mother was there the night she died."

My throat tightened.

"She was there?"

"She tried to save her."

I sat down.

The baby started crying again.

I looked at him.

"He's afraid of the black disc because it was there."

Vincent nodded.

"At his mother's murder?"

"Yes."

I looked toward the window.

My mother's voice in the recorder.

Not yet.

Do not tell her everything.

I suddenly understood something.

She hadn't been hiding from Vincent.

She had been hiding from me.

Why?

The airplane jerked.

An alarm sounded.

The pilot shouted.

"Engine two!"

Smoke filled the cabin.

Vincent moved instantly.

"Emergency landing."

The lights flashed red.

Luca screamed.

Maya grabbed my arm.

Vincent pulled us toward the emergency seats.

"Listen to me."

His voice was calm.

"Whatever happens, stay with me."

"Why?"

"Because someone wants you alive."

"Who?"

He looked at me.

"The person who sent the black disc."

The plane descended.

I held Maya.

She held the rabbit.

Vincent held Luca.

Outside the window, the clouds opened.

Below us was black water.

An enormous lake.

No city.

No lights.

No runway.

Vincent looked at the pilot.

"Where are we?"

The answer was almost a whisper.

"Lake Michigan."

My stomach fell.

"We're falling into the lake."

Vincent looked at me.

Then at Maya.

Then at Luca.

He made a decision.

"Nobody separates."

The plane hit the water.

The world became noise.

Glass.

Metal.

Water.

Darkness.

I felt Maya's hand disappear from mine.

"Maya!"

Someone pulled me upward.

Vincent.

He shoved an oxygen mask toward me.

"Where's Maya?"

He disappeared beneath the water.

I screamed.

"Luca!"

Vincent surfaced with the baby.

No Maya.

I dove.

Something caught my ankle.

I kicked.

Nothing.

Then I saw her.

Maya was tangled in the seatbelt.

Her little fingers were reaching toward me.

I grabbed her.

The aircraft groaned.

A wall collapsed.

Vincent shouted.

I pulled Maya free.

We surfaced.

Cold water burned my lungs.

Vincent was already climbing onto a floating section of the aircraft.

He grabbed us both.

Then he counted.

"Luca."

He checked the baby.

"Alive."

"Maya."

Alive.

Then he looked at me.

"Lena."

"I am."

He stared.

"No."

"What?"

He pointed behind me.

On the floating wreckage was a metal case.

It had been bolted beneath my seat.

On the lid was a single word.

LENA.

Vincent stared at it.

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Then he whispered:

"They've been carrying you since the day you were born."