Gavin was driving me back to GINM. I was quiet in the car, thinking and regretting.

"Did you give them the papers?" he queried.

"Yeah, my mom has them," I uttered.

The papers were tickets. It was a plan to keep Molly and Clifford safely out of the line of fire – sending them to England – without anyone else knowing. Maybe we failed to stop Domino Doomsday and maybe America was destroyed, at least my parents would be safe. Yes, there were a million other innocents I wished I could save, but Moll and Cliff were my family, and if they got out, maybe the scars of losing my home would not cut so deep.

In the car, I sat still, replaying Molly's words, paralysed by them, and even more fearful than before. There were tears falling from her eyes. By her motherly instinct she refused; she couldn't let me, her daughter, go without her. It was a damn suicide mission, as she called it, which was not that farfetched. But I didn't want anything to happen to her, I told her, I loved her too much – it felt as if I had pulled the words from her mouth. I cried, too, I couldn't help it. I had forgotten how painfully difficult it was sometimes, wanting the best for someone.

Molly had clutched onto her arm and looked me in the eyes, past the tears. Her last words had been: "I am your mother – not that French bitch – I couldn't love or worry about you more, okay? We're going to Lorient and we're gonna come back." She walked into the kitchen before I could say anything else. But I wouldn't have spoken a word; her stubbornness was enough that I'd been rendered speechless. That and it was the first time she had ever cursed in front of me.

Suddenly, Gavin nudged my arm; I guessed he'd been trying to get my attention for some minutes.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, why?" I said in a somewhat forced high note.

He gazed at me with suspicion, not believing my guise for a second, but he did not pry. "Is Clifford still at work?"

"He is. Molly will have to explain the papers to him when he gets home."

We called them 'papers' because everyone was still under the impression that Abba was watching me, always. Even discussing the plan had to be cryptic; I'd texted Gavin a few months ago asking him if he could show my parents his house before we left, and he understood it in a second. He had a house in London, a holiday home that Buckley and his family used to occupy, until he became a turd and lost Janet and Stefan by law. For years, it had only known the butlers and maids who maintained its appearance. Buckley had given the house to Gavin about a month before I had gotten tangled up in their world, before I had met them.

I knew Gavin had seen the manor once before, but had never gone inside. There was something about it that repelled him. Maybe it was the intimidation of its size and high-class appeal, or the mere fact that it was something of Buckley's. But now that home had a purpose.

"I texted them the address," he said. "And I took your bags from my place, they're in the trunk."

"Thank you," I whispered, from the heart. "Sorry to make you drive up and down."

"Don't worry about it," he said with a wink.

We reached the building. I walked into the elevator with Gavin on one side of me and my suitcase on the other. I was scared, petrified! I despised GINM incredibly, but when I thought of how it could've been my last time in that building, I began to miss it – its ridiculously affluent technology and aura of pompousness included.

Gavin and I watched the agents hurry up the stairs in squads, through the glass sides of the elevator. We looked at all of the agents who'd be joining us, rushing to meet at the helipad with a strange calmness on their faces. Of course, it was a routine thing risking their lives. They were following orders; those agents were ready for their mission. Gavin glanced at me, he had a worry in his eyes, and I saw it. I knew what he was thinking; we were both scared. Scared because we knew (and also didn't know) what was coming, thus we prepared ourselves, mentally, for death.

The elevator doors opened when we were on the roof. I saw Stefan ahead of me, catching my glance, and for the first time, he didn't smile when he saw me. My heart was aching, and racing so fast that I was waiting to keel over. I followed Gavin to his helicopter, trying desperately to stray from Stefan's gaze, and those of our friends. I couldn't make up with him yet, he knew why. Oh, I hoped that he remembered.

I tossed my suitcase into the chopper and climbed up into my seat. Valerie joined us, Dominick also, but I think he was only following her, not picking sides in any way. Finn stayed with Stefan. They watched us ascend into the air, and I saw Finn lay his hand on Stefan's shoulder a second before we were too high and they were out of my range of vision.

Why was I scared? Dang it, I had trained for months! There was a handgun in my belt, at my fingertips. It was smooth and cold like ice.

I jolted, surprised by Dominick as he tapped my shoulder with his hand. "We are going to make it."

Valerie uttered, placing her hands on the shoulders of my seat, "We have something for you."

She pulled a garment out from the backpack he had been carrying, both were GINM gear.

"It's a high-tech bulletproof vest," Dominick explained. "It'll protect you. Now, this is a prototype –"

"Where did you get that?" Gavin asked, with an unexpected alarm in his voice.

"GINM."

That was all Dominick said, but the way they looked at each other, I could tell that he'd taken it from somewhere in GINM that he wasn't supposed to be.

I interjected, "It doesn't matter; I won't need it."

"What?" they exclaimed, but Gavin was quiet.

"I've had enough training," I answered, as calmly as I could. Although, that wasn't completely true; some – most – GINM agents trained for years before going on a mission like Doomsday. "I want to fight her my way."

They were wordless. Dominick and Valerie's eyes were wide with concern – already, they were imagining my demise.

"Stefan would want you to wear it," Gavin tried to convince me, his tone low and blunt.

"He respects my wishes," I croaked in doubt.

This was one of my most confused decisions. I didn't know why I refused the vest. There was a part of me that wanted to show Abba, who I believed was witnessing every move I made, that I wasn't afraid to face her. She was still just a person, a person who had abandoned me, a person who wanted to take my home away from me. She was a coward, and she was crazy, not me. And I didn't depend on my 'augmenting microchip' either. If I could, I'd pull it out.

I looked at Gavin for a short while, thought of the plans we had made. We were the only ones who knew about the tickets, aside from Molly and Clifford, of course, but there was more that we knew – more secrets and more lies. I didn't know why I trusted him so much. I'd contemplated it, and the most logical answer was that he trusted me; he never doubted my decisions – at least not verbally – even when I did. He was also Stefan's best friend. Then, I'd come to the conclusion that I just didn't want to burden Stefan. He worried too much, hurt too deeply, and there was almost no reassuring him. Gavin was not like that, he had more faith and fewer questions. He didn't overthink everything or see only hopeless ends. I didn't want to burden him either, but I knew he could take it better – all my rash and radical choices that could very well be horrible mistakes – he could handle it.

Dominick and Valerie leaned back into their seats. The sky seemed grey and hollow that day. There were no birds in the air, no aeroplanes. I wondered, shivering at the thought, how many people knew about Domino Doomsday. AIM was supposed to be a secret organisation. Maybe I was paranoid, but it seemed like a lot of things were at a standstill that day – the streets, those major franchises full of well-paid charlatans. Was there a holiday I didn't know about? Teachers, store clerks, the florist across the road from my school, did they all know? Were they all a part of this?

I stopped. If I kept thinking like that, I'd surely go mad. As I viewed the sky again, a glint of sunlight crept under the widespread clouds. It was so slight that it hardly changed the sky's lifeless appearance, but it was beautiful.

"Dominick," I whispered, still watching the wisps of flaxen sunlight. "What happened to Celeste?"

"Don't know," he answered modestly. "She brought me to GINM, but I lost her in the crowd when we arrived. I think she said she would meet us at AIM."

"Okay," I replied, I trusted she would be there.

AIM grew before us as the chopper lowered. We landed with the other GINM helicopters, distanced from AIM. A couple of agents were waiting outside their choppers, armed and ready. When our engine went off, I undid my seatbelt and opened my door. I was halfway out when Dominick's hand grasped my arm.

"Aimee, wait," he said lightly. "Be careful out there, please." he asked of me. His voice, his accent, had never sounded so gentle.

I turned, hugged him tightly and whispered, "You, too."

There was one skill I hadn't learnt in my months and months of training: how to convince my friends that they had no reason to worry about me. My grip tightened on Dominick's jade long-sleeved top, out of nothing but the bitter frustration that I might lose him and so many others that day. I wish I could just stop Abba then and there, alone. Valerie was right: no one had to get hurt, no one had to die.

I heard that harmonious voice, calling all of us. Stefan. Gavin was already motioning towards him and Finn, and Valerie was motioning towards us.

"Let's go," said Dominick, recovering my focus.

Valerie and I walked on either side of him, she held his hand. We joined Stefan, Finn and Gavin, forming a circle where we stood. We shared glances, convincing each other that we were ready for this world rescue.

Hah, world rescue. The words spun in my mind.

We were all fighting to be strong; you could see it in our eyes – Valerie's hands quivered. We came together in a hug, one we almost could not end. It was not a sign of weakness, we needed it.

We knew the plan, so we dispersed eventually. Finn and Valerie went back to the chopper Stefan had flown, where they would be during the first phase of the plan, while the rest of us walked towards AIM, but not as a unit. It was almost as if we were forcing ourselves to be brave, by disbanding.

I stared at AIM, trying not to dwell on my fearful thoughts yet again. Coming here was lighting the match. Once we entered that building, we'd be in the pit of the fire.