Lena hadn't planned on going home.
After Agent Harris. After the basement. After the way the air itself seemed to be listening now. Home felt like the wrong direction—like walking back into a story she didn't remember agreeing to.
But her bike turned that way anyway.
She rode slowly, past familiar houses, past lawns that needed mowing and cars that hadn't moved in years. Marrow looked the same as it always had, which suddenly felt like a lie.
Her house sat at the end of the block, small and stubborn, paint peeling in the places her dad always said he'd fix "next summer."
Next summer never came.
Lena leaned her bike against the porch railing and stared at the front door longer than necessary.
"Get it together," she muttered, and went inside.
The house smelled like laundry detergent and old coffee. Her dad's boots sat by the door, muddy in the same way they'd been muddy for years.
"Dad?" she called.
"In the kitchen," he answered.
He was at the table, sorting through a stack of envelopes. Bills, mostly. His shoulders were hunched, the way they always were when he thought she wasn't looking.
"Hey," Lena said, forcing brightness into her voice. "You ever notice how our town is… weird?"
Her dad snorted. "Only every day since 1998."
She sat across from him. "Do you remember the old civic building?"
His hands stilled.
Just for a second.
Then he shook his head. "Which one?"
"The one near the service road."
He frowned. "There wasn't anything near the service road."
Lena's stomach dropped.
"Dad," she said carefully, "when Mom left—"
He stood abruptly, chair scraping loudly against the floor. "That's not—"
"I'm not blaming anyone," Lena said quickly. "I just need to know."
He stared at her like she'd spoken a language he almost recognized.
Then, slowly, he sat back down.
"She didn't leave," he said.
Lena's breath caught. "What?"
"She didn't just *leave*," he repeated. "Something happened. And then… it didn't."
"That makes no sense."
"I know," he said quietly. "That's what scared me."
He rubbed his hands together, as if warming them over a memory.
"There was a building," he said. "I think. I'm not sure. I remember walking there with her. We were fighting. About money. About this town."
Lena's heart pounded.
"And then?" she whispered.
"And then I was alone," he said. "And later, everyone said she'd taken a job out of state. That it was better for her. Better for you."
He looked up at Lena, eyes shining. "But sometimes I remember standing in a hallway that went on too long. And thinking—*this is where things go when they don't fit anymore*."
Lena felt cold spread through her chest.
The building.
"It didn't take her," Lena said slowly. "It… kept her."
Her dad shook his head. "No. It gave her somewhere else to go. Somewhere that wasn't breaking."
Lena swallowed hard. "Do you miss her?"
He laughed softly. "Every day. But it's strange. The missing never gets sharper. It stays… manageable."
Lena stood, legs trembling.
"I need some air," she said.
"Lena," her dad called after her. "If you're thinking about looking for answers—"
She paused in the doorway.
"—be careful what you ask to be remembered," he finished.
---
She didn't go back to the group right away.
Instead, Lena rode.
Past the river. Past the park. Past the service road.
She didn't stop.
She couldn't.
The truth settled into her bones slowly, painfully:
The building had already saved her family.
Not by fixing things.
By *redirecting* the damage.
Her phone buzzed.
**Sam:** checking in before i assume u joined a cult
She laughed, the sound sharp and wet.
**Lena:** It helped my family.
Three dots appeared. Vanished.
**Alex:** What do you mean?
**Jordan:** Define "helped."
She turned her bike around.
---
They gathered near the service road again, because gravity apparently still worked.
Lena told them everything.
About her dad. About her mom. About the hallway that went on too long.
Sam was quiet for once.
"So," he said finally, "the haunted government grief-building might also be… therapy?"
"No," Lena said. "It doesn't heal. It stores."
Maya nodded slowly. "Like a scar you don't feel anymore."
Jordan's voice was tight. "That implies ethical intent at the start."
Alex ran a hand through his hair. "And catastrophic consequences later."
Riley looked at Lena. "Do you want it back?"
Lena didn't answer right away.
"I don't know," she said honestly. "I don't know who she is now. Or if she even wants to be found."
Sam exhaled. "That's the worst part. It gives people what they *can live with*."
Maya whispered, "Not what they want."
They stood there, the building looming silently nearby.
Lena felt the pull—not strong, not demanding.
Inviting.
Understanding.
"It's not evil," she said.
Alex nodded. "That doesn't mean it's safe."
Jordan looked toward the road, toward the idling SUV they all pretended not to notice anymore. "And now the government knows it worked."
Sam grimaced. "Which means they're gonna want it back."
The hum rose slightly, like a warning.
Lena closed her eyes.
For the first time, she wasn't afraid of the building.
She was afraid of what would happen if it was taken away.
Because whatever it had been meant to do—
It had already changed their lives.
And it might not let anyone undo that without a cost.
---