I'd last gone to Stefan's house about three weeks ago. It was a Friday, our last day together in sweet normalcy – or at least, what we could consider normalcy – before RDA training kicked into full-blown overdrive.

"So, about Molly's cooking," began Stefan with a subtle laugh to his words.

We had been mmm-ing over the heavenly assortment of appetisers Cornelius had brought up to Stefan's room. As usual, we had no idea what we were eating, but my tongue had never been so happy! That was when Stefan mentioned Mom's talents in the kitchen.

I cringed, "What about it?"

"I worry she's trying to kill you," he joked.

I laughed so loud that my hand reflexively covered my mouth, and I replied, "No-no, I only have one homicidal mother."

The previous weekend, he had invited himself to lunch with my family and me – which he had been doing quite often since the night we'd told them about GINM – but Molly being Molly decided she did not have to make an effort with him anymore; he was practically living with us, and if he lived with us, he would have to eat like us. I think those were her exact words actually.

Next to me on his bed, Stefan propped himself up on his elbows, his body from the bottom of his spine to the heels of his feet rested on the covers.

"You're right," he admitted. "And also, Cornelius has a very unfair advantage."

"He studied the culinary arts?" I guessed.

"No... he has a moustache," he laughed, and I specifically remembered Cornelius saying how his designation as five-star chef had nothing to do with his fantastic facial hair. "Everyone knows that people with moustaches are the most amazing chefs."

"That is incredibly sexist!"

"No, it isn't," he backed away, knowing I was likely going to smack him soon, but he was still laughing. "You know the Bearded Lady at the circus?"

"Oh my gosh, Stefan."

"I bet she's an astoundingly talented chef."

I had to agree; how could one argue with such logic?

"I'm sure she is. Molly is a pretty good cook, though." He gave me a look. "Well, she can be when she is so inclined. She's mostly just lazy. Like, she has a sort of rule that if it looks edible, it's good enough!"

I recalled the first time she'd told me that. She had been making toasted cheese sandwiches for me and Emma, and I had hovered over her shoulder in search of whatever poisons she put onto them, because even those tasted atypical somehow.

"She's still a great mom."

"She is," I said honestly. "And I was the worst daughter. For the first half of our years together, I was so horribly hateful and bratty, and all I wanted was to see my real parents again, and for what?"

My hands were at my sides again and before I knew it, one of them was within Stefan's. He said, "You missed them is all. And if you were the worst daughter, Molly and Cliff wouldn't do everything that they do for you. Your parents and I share something in common."

I raised my eyebrows expectantly.

"Before I tell you, be warned that I'm about to be very cheesy." We laughed again, shutting our eyes and breaking off our shared gaze temporarily. "We love you like crazy."

This played in my head like a motion picture, this memory, as I fought to keep my attention on the task at hand.

"What now, Valerie?" I asked, returning to my seat at the computer station.

Instructions and intelligence poured out of her mouth and I had trouble keeping up initially, but I got the hang of it. Finn also helped, he was like Valerie's translator, simplifying whatever she said where needed.

I thought about my memory again; it reminded me that the Stefan I knew was still there – I found it quite miraculous that my fingers were typing coherently and that I hadn't activated some virus or something. Then, I thought about my parents. They were great parents. I pictured them, watching nauseatingly cute rom-coms on their flight to England, Molly mistaking Clifford's incredible niceness towards air hostesses for flirting, him convincing her otherwise. I hoped that they weren't worrying. They had a chance to have the normality that had, for months, been untouchable for us. I wanted that for them; I wanted them to bicker like an old married couple and hold hands and be in love and forget about me and my stupid birth parents and their inability to leave me the heck alone!

My hand tucked into my pocket in search of my phone, I was about to call them, but then I thought about how calling them wouldn't abolish their worrying. I told myself to call when there was good news, or at least definite news. My hand returned to the keyboard.

Dominick suddenly had a very wide grin on his face, his eyes lit up like those of a kid who just got their first bicycle – without the training wheels. Gavin and I were sitting on either side of him, waiting for him to explain his elatedness. He parted his lips, but for a second or two, his excitement kept his words in his throat. So, Gavin and I looked at his computer screen, our eyes and mouths gaped.

"I got into the Doomsday files!" he exclaimed.

Gavin kidded, "So, what was that about trusting you equalling our doom?"

Valerie and Finn were deciding whose idea it was to hack the system in the way Dom did – see, we were each given different methods, as to speed up the process. Dom and Gavin bumped fists, and then Dom, being the inexhaustible, energetic creature that he was, continued to work and look over the files he now had access to with his bicycle boy eyes. But Gavin noticed that I hadn't shared in this fraction of awesome and exciting success, and his smile disappeared.

"Something doesn't feel right."

And at that very second, the ground began to tremble under the weight of something, something big, something coming.

I just had to open my mouth, didn't I? Well done, Aimee. I sighed.

"Stay here," Gavin and I spoke together again, only I was gesturing to Dom (he had to protect the PC) and Gavin directed his statement to me.

"What?" I objected. "I'm not –"

"Stay with the computer," he told me, before he called Dominick to his side.

My fear for what was approaching interred my usual 'bravery' and will to protest. As the things drew nearer to our locale, we started to hear whirrs of rotating, lightweight metal, like the sound of a drill. I took my seat at the computer, partly because my legs were slowly failing me. In a matter of seconds, they were inside: oversized, spherical machines with tentacles like heavy-metal spider legs that carried them – an updated model to the one that had kidnapped me from my bedroom. Each had made its own entranceway into the room, freely demolishing the walls and computers in its path. There were three of them, Abba was generous enough to make sure we each had one, but one of them was bigger than the others. It had been the first to meet Gavin and Dom halfway on its considerably fast-moving automated legs.

I looked away fearfully. If they wouldn't let me help, I wasn't going to watch either. I uploaded the Doomsday data onto our flash drive, courtesy of GINM. Needless to say, the files were enormous, but with Valerie's help, I was able cut the upload time from forty minutes to two. We had two minutes, one hundred and twenty seconds, to fend off three extra-centurial machines, and as hard as the boys fought, they weren't doing so well; their attacks were all otiose. I got up, ready to come to their aid despite my orders, but then I realised something: the small robots (well, small by comparison) had mysteriously stopped in their tracks. Concurrently, they dug their free tentacles into the ground and the cables hidden beneath the floorboards lit up in a vibrant red hue. They were tampering with the computers.

"Guys, stop the other two, now!" I shouted.

They noticed what was happening, but there was just one problem: they had been brawling with the big robot to keep it from doing what it was trying to do, which was either to come for me or the computer – and I didn't know which was more terrifying. I decided what it wanted.

"It's Abba's, it's after me. Let it come for me!"

The guys ogled me, like they were waiting for me to say I was kidding or something. I wasn't. Distracted, they were shoved out of the way by mechanical arms, Dom to the left and Gavin to the right, and they crashed through the glass sheets of their separate walls. I slapped my hands over my mouth in horror, but only for the seconds I had before the robot dashed for me at its unnatural speed. I was certain now; it was me it was after. I closed my eyes and felt the unwelcome clasp of metal arms hugging me. When I opened my eyes again, all I saw was the computer screen pulling further and further away from me. Gavin and Dom yelled my name in unison.

"Get up," I ordered them. "You have to stop the other robots! I'm f-fine." My last few words were as constricted as the arms around me.

Scared as I was, I almost hoped the machine would take me straight to Abba, to Stefan. I had to end this. Now, it was personal.