Page 54 of Omega Scarred

Jadesleepsforthebetter part of three days after we get home, stuck in the med bay and recovering from her gunshot wound. I still have the locket, but I don't look inside; it feels intrusive, and I haven't had a chance to tell her about it.

Finally, on the fourth day, Jade seems well enough to talk. I find her when Rafe and Hawk are away, debriefing with the other leader of our movement, Carson. Everyone is disappointed that we didn't get the data we went in for, and that we were almost fucked. Losing Rafe would have been a huge hit to the Enclave.

But for us, losing Jade would have been worse.

Jade stirs and blinks awake, a soft moan escaping her lips as she tries to sit up. I'm by her side in an instant, pressing a hand to her shoulder to steady her.

"Easy," I say, my voice soft. "You took a nasty hit. How are you feeling?"

Jade grimaces, wincing as she touches a hand to her bandaged side. "Like I got shot," she says dryly.

I chuckle, relieved to hear her sense of humor intact. "You scared the hell out of us, you know."

"Not as much as you scared me," she says. "I think I was running on pure adrenaline when we met back up...but the boat ride back..."

She frowns.

"Everyone's okay, right? Safe?"

I nod. "Once your mom got us out of there, we were all good. Smooth sailing all the way back to the Raft."

Her eyes flicker over to me, then widen as they land on the locket in my hand. "What's that?"

I swallow hard, feeling like a fool. "Your mom gave it to me when we left."

Jade's eyes meet mine. "Four days ago?"

I nod. "I should've given it to you earlier."

"No, that's okay," she says, reaching out to take my hand. "You were giving me time to heal. I appreciate that."

Jade opens the locket and gasps as she sees the picture of her mother and a little girl inside. Her eyes fill with tears, and I reach for her.

"I can't believe it," she whispers, clutching the locket to her chest. "I thought...I didn't think my mom kept any of the pictures."

I put a comforting arm around her, feeling her body shake with sobs. We sit like that for a while, me holding her as she cries. It's a deep, wrenching grief that comes from a place of loss so profound that words can't reach it. I don't say anything; I just hold her as she cries and let her know that she's not alone.

I didn't ever know my family. I can't imagine what it's like to know them...and to not be sure if they care for you at all.

After a few minutes, she sniffles and pulls away from me, wiping away her tears.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice hoarse. "That was just...a lot."

"Don't apologize," I say softly. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, doll. Your parents...that shit's tough."

She nods, staring at the picture. It's so small that I'm surprised she can even make out the faces.

Then she frowns.

"Wait...what's that?" she says.

She sits up a little taller and leans over the locket, then wedges her fingernails under the picture. I'm worried she's about to tear it up or something--which, I guess is fine, she can do whatever she wants--but she peels the picture away.

And underneath is a tiny, fingernail-sized drive.

"Oh my God," she whispers, holding it out to me. "What is this?"

I take the drive from her hand, examining it closely. "I don't know," I say, my mind racing. "But it's gotta be important if your mom hid it in your locket."

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