We rush to the car, nearly slipping on the manicured grass.

My lungs are hummingbird wings, rising so fast I cannot hear them fall.

I can't feel anything. Nothing except the rising bile in my throat. Bile which tastes of the thought of my Mother, crying out for a daughter that isn't there.

As we rush to Light's car, I risk a glance back at the Academy, with its glass eyes and potted palms plants crowned by glistening walls of cream. The only place I've felt at home these past few months. My tongue turns to led as I think of Emma and Noah.

I never got to say goodbye.

And now they will never know.

The beige of Light's car, like a birth mark in the parking lot, sinks into view. Before he can jump in the car, I snag his arm. He jumps, but doesn't turn.

"What if we're too late? Did you see what happened? Is my Mother alright?" Light doesn't answer. Instead he races to open the door and motions for me to jump inside. I grab him before he can start the engine.

"Please, Bo. It's my Mum".

"I'll get her. You are going to straight to the airport or a bus station or anywhere but here". My mouth opens, but no words come out.

Before I can utter a sound, Bo turns the key in the ignition. And, all of a sudden, I can't breathe. I swallow the nausea. Not now. This is too soon. Why now? Why now? This isn't fair; I never asked for this. Not once.

The car rumbles, a grizzly bear, and Light lashes his hand to the steering wheel. I taste blood. I've bitten my tongue.

"Bo, please. I'm not leaving her."

"And I'm not leaving you. Everything will be alright. I'll drop you off with a friend of mine; he'll have passports waiting for us". I shake my head.

I left my mother once before. I'm not leaving her again.

He's about to turn the wheel, but I grasp his hand. Swerve the car so that Bo slams against the window. He grunts in pain, but I ignore him. Steadying the car, I grit my teeth.

"I am not leaving her. Or you". Light glances at me, placing his hands back onto the steering. In my head, Alyssa screeches.

'You are leaving. If you don't get Doctor Dumbass to turn this car around, I will take over and drag us to the airport,' she snaps. I laugh.

'I don't doubt it,' I echo back. But I don't move. Nor do I ask Light to turn the car around. I'm not leaving and that's final. I'm done hiding and lying and running. I'm done with pretending.

In our head, Alyssa smiles.

'Alright,' she says. 'Let's go.'

Bo, as if reading our mind, puts the car into full gear. The wheels screech as we hurtle down the highway. My stomach bounces, jarring my ribs. But my face is cast in stone. Mum. We're coming. I grit my teeth. We will save her. We're not going to fail, not again. I know, or at least, I think I know, why Alyssa is here. Why Alyssa appeared. She saved me. My mind needed to protect itself and she answered my prayers.

I'm not going to let her, or my Mum, down. Never again.

Dr. Light whips the steering wheel to the left, slamming the car into suburbia. Pedestrians on bikes, or those walking dogs, scream, cursing at us as we pass. I find myself smiling.

The chaos is somewhat comforting.

'You're starting to sound like me,' comes Alyssa's irritated tone inside our head.

'I'll take that as a compliment'.

Light hits the accelerator, his foot practically crashing through the footwell into the road below. We're getting closer to the house. The streets become individual ghost-towns. Abandoned cars litter the roads and instead, I can spy the silhouettes of black SUVs in the distance.

I nod to Light and he swerves off the main road towards the back of another house's drive. I have a plan. A bad one, but a plan none the less. We'll never be able to get into the house via the front door. The window – Light's bathroom window to be exact – seems like the best option. I explain this to Light as he parked the car behind a series of gorse bushes and potted palms.

"Absolutely not. I'm not your Mr. Dark or whatever his name is," he says. "I can't climb, and neither can you". In my mind, Alyssa offers to step in, but I turn her down. We need to be discreet and all that's on her mind is revenge. I can sense it, bubbling up from our neck, into our pre-frontal cortex. Light yanks the key from the ignition. He turns to me.

"You're not going to listen to me, are you?" he asks.

"No".

"Alright then". He surges from the car. I follow and we set about yanking branches from the trees outside the nearest suburban build to cover the vehicle. We're at least a few yards from the house, close enough that we can see it, see the blackened cars gathering around it, but far enough away that we remain obscure profiles, crouching on the outskirts. One ambulance painted to match the ones used by Calgary Hospital. Two large black vans parked lopsided in the drive.

Light gestures to the side gate beside the house.

Hoping no one's enjoying an afternoon of reading in their garden, we surge for the gate. No lock, just a metal hinge. We push through easily, and head down a paved alley towards a repressed lawn and baby pink roses. Thankfully, no one is sitting in the garden, but through the curtains, I can see a young boy, around five or six, sitting on an iPad in his living room.

Nodding to Light, we throw ourselves across the grass. Their fence isn't high, so we practically jump over it into the next garden. Bare and this time, the curtains are shut. We keep running, ploughing over compost and empty flowerbeds with ease.

My heart is in stasis and I imagine it will be unable to beat again until Mum is holding me in her arms. Kissing my cheek, telling me everything will be alright. Until then I settle for Light's smile as he vaults over the next fence.

The following garden is shadowed in a brick wall. A yellow striped deckchair is folded on the lawn, but again, the garden is empty. A woman however is standing at her kitchen window. The moment she catches my gaze, she shouts and screams until, with Light offering to give me a leg-up, I manage to throw myself over the wall. Landing with a crunch, I wince. I wiggle my toes. Nothing broken.

Once Light lands next to me, like a cat, we keep moving. One more garden left. All too soon I recognise the wooden fence which encircles our home. I grit my teeth. Not our home. An empty house I just happened to be trapped in for a few months. My home is here, inside our head. And Alyssa is my landlady.

We reach the fence, skidding to a stop. Light motions to the far side of the fence, which will drop us straight into the shadow of the house.

Cupping his hands to give me a leg-up, I find that he's sweating, and it isn't the heat of the day. Rather, the sun is exiting stage left behind a cloud. I offer him a wan smile.

"Everything will be okay," I tell him. In seconds, he hoists me over the fence. It takes him a few minutes to follow.

We paste ourselves to the side of the house, flat against the brickwork. The large bay windows are all locked, covered with curtains. They don't want anyone to see what's happening.

Silently, we race around to the other side of the house, where the drainpipe is. I tap my chest, as if I can beat my pounding heart into submission. The sleek drainpipe, the slate roof: this is Alyssa's department, not mine. All the same, I grasp the plastic cylinder with both hands, trying to grip the brick wall with my feet in order to pull myself up. After a long few minutes of scratching and slipping, I manage to find a foothold. Looking down, Light is grimacing.

"We should go. What if your Mother is beyond saving?" he asks. I glare at him.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that". This is my Mother. The last thing I'm ever going to do is leave.

I can hardly call the next few minutes of slithering up a drainpipe climbing. But, after what seems like a small eternity, I throw myself onto the roof. Looking down, I watch as Light begins to follow. In my mind, I find I can't help comparing him to Mr. Dark. The feline, agile Mr. Dark who seems to have nine-lives when he's around Alyssa. But Light is mechanical, his limbs robotic as he shimmies up the drainpipe and emerges gasping onto the slate roof. I frown. He's still a better climber than me. We're both panting, severely out of breath. But we have no time to waste.

Shifting on my hands and knees, I crawl along the roof until I reach Light's bathroom window. Or rather, lack of bathroom window. He'd placed the curtains atop the hole in the wall to throw off suspicion. Pulling back the fabric, the bathroom remains a cataclysm. The shower head lies in a knot on the tiled floor, while the bath is cracked down the side. The sink too, is submerged in dirty water. Slowly, I lower myself down onto the floor, my feet threatening to slip. In our mind, Alyssa tells me where to go. Which foot to put forward.

'I'm going to need you to stay calm,' I tell her.

'Too bad I don't listen to your needs,' she shoots back. I hold in my next remark. Aggravating her won't help the situation. All the same, I tread carefully. Light follows soon after, wincing as he beholds his post-apocalyptic bedroom. The drawers are flung open, the mirror is cracked. His bedsheets are strewn against the far wall like a cream spatter-pattern.

We sift through a pile of clothes – suits mainly – and shoes, all the while cursing the Janus Foundation. The door is closed, but not locked so we emerge onto the landing. I hear distant voices, but they are coming from outside.

My chest rises.

I rush down the stairs, but Light remains on the landing, hovering like a mayfly. Carefully, I pad to the front door. It's locked. Footsteps, tentative, like a faun, echo behind me. I turn. I almost scream.

Mum is there, standing with shaking hands in the darkness. Her hair is mussed and there is blood caked on her temple.

"Alice?" she calls out. Upon seeing me, she lets out a strangled cry. "Alice!" I step back a little. She must have locked herself in the house. But if the Foundation possess the key cards to open the number locks, why can't they get in? I shake my head. My Mum must have changed the passcodes; she's smart enough.

"Mummy?" My voice is hoarse. My Mother calms her fluttering hands.

"Alice? Oh, honey. I thought I'd lost you. These people came and searched for you. I tried to tell them you were at school, but they didn't believe me. Oh, Alice". She holds out her arms to hug me. I rush forward, at first, but my steps soon fade. I stand there, staring.

And I realise where I remember my Mother's face. In the Foundation. One of the Overseers. The shadow in the corner who watched as Dr. Steele and his lackeys held me down until I screamed myself into unconsciousness.

This woman isn't my Mother.

The woman who calls herself my Mother notices my expression and her eyes darken. Her hands retract and she pulls a gun from the back of her trousers. A tranquiliser gun, but a gun all the same.

I remember her now. An operative, one of the best. Trained in hand-to-hand combat. Married to a neurobiologist. And one of my jailers.

Mrs. Karen Hill.