CHAPTER ELEVEN
word of mouth

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SHE HAD TO TELL Molly. There was no other choice. The world was ending, and now, apparently, a trio of Commission goons was after Nadine's blood. If Nadine said nothing, she'd be caught up in either Armageddon or the barrel of a gun, and she'd be gone. She'd breathe her last breath, her heart would beat for the final time, and she'd become nothing more than an empty shell. A clump of ash.

And Nadine would know she failed.

No, it was better to tell Molly everything. Everything, like the fact that she was from the future and had superhuman abilities and fought with a team of similarly extraordinary people. She'd have to spill it all out, and hope she didn't run like everyone else did. Colette. Manon. Mirabelle. Camille. Even Louise. All of them people Nadine thought she loved, people Nadine thought loved her, and all of them had taken off when Nadine revealed who she was. She'd never... she'd never had anyone who loved her as a whole—her powers, her trauma, her barely kindled rage. The past two years may have taught her to open her heart a little wider, but there was still a tightly packed wall around it. Because she knew what people were like. She knew she wasn't good enough when she was complete.

And Molly... Molly only knew her as a fraction. Due to her strange circumstances, Nadine had become someone else for Molly, someone slightly to the left of the real Nadine. She'd kept so many secrets, shoved them all into a bottle and covered them with a cork, and the sheer effort of holding them there made her a frame of a person. Almost Nadine Vidal, but not quite there.

Now here was her chance to become the real Nadine. The Nadine who was messy and brutal and difficult and wild. The Nadine who wasn't a hero, but would do anything to protect Molly.

The Swedes would track Nadine here. Nadine knew enough about the Commission to know they were scarily good at that. But if she convinced Molly to leave with her, to go to a safer place... maybe the odds would tip more in their favour.

But Molly would only come with her if she knew the truth.

Tonight, Nadine would do it. She would pry open the stopper and let all of those fragments of herself fill in the holes they'd left behind. She'd bare her heart to Molly, true as can be, and pray that Molly, too, didn't turn away. Pray that the truth was too much weight for her to carry.

Nadine came to this laborious conclusion in the few minutes it took Five to vacate his stool and join Vanya at the rotary phone. She was so caught up in her own thoughts that they blared louder than their conversation, which was how she ended up missing their argument. It was only when Five returned and ordered her (condescending little shit) to come with them that she stood up. And it was only when she made it outside (reluctantly leaving her waffles behind) that she noticed the angry tears burning in Vanya's eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Five hadn't yet told the two of them where they were going—he merely instructed them to get into the car. Again, Nadine was surprised at the readiness with which Vanya obeyed him. Even angry, she trailed after him as they made their way back to the car.

Vanya wiped her eyes. "I'm fine," she answered. Nadine was tempted to press, but typically, when someone told you they were fine in that tone, they were really asking you to stop asking questions.

They slid into the car. Nadine was driving only because they didn't have time to get arrested, Five was in the passenger's seat, and Vanya sat in the back. Nadine tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. The silence in the car—halted only by the grumble of the engine—was awkward, a band of tension drawn taut between Vanya and Five. It put to mind the all-too-common clashes between Luther and Diego in 2019.

"Where the hell are we going, Five?" she asked eventually, letting the car idle in its parking spot.

Five shifted slightly in his seat. "You're not going to like it."

"That's always a good way to start." Nadine worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "Just spill it. I'm a big girl. I promise I can take it."

"Fine," said Five, eyes darting from Nadine to Vanya. "We're going to find Luther."

He was right. Nadine didn't like it.

A hiss escaped her teeth. When she'd first met Luther, she'd been indifferent to him—he wasn't nearly as infuriating as Diego or Five, and, though quietly judgmental, hadn't kicked her out of the Umbrella Academy when she'd arrived. But then he'd ruined everything. He'd locked Vanya up when he discovered her abilities, and ignored his sibling's pleas to help her in any other way. He'd tricked Nadine and Allison into acting as distractions for Vanya in the Icarus Theatre, then barreled in and ruined everything right as they were making progress. Because he'd seen Vanya as a weapon, she'd become one.

"Luther?" Vanya asked. Nadine glanced at her. Genuine curiosity shimmered in her eyes. Right. Vanya didn't remember anything Luther had done to her. All of his crimes had been wiped clean, a black mark cleared off his record. He had a blank slate now. Somehow, Nadine doubted he'd use this opportunity to turn things around. Based on his previous track record, she'd barely raise an eyebrow if Luther decided Vanya needed to be stopped again.

"He's our brother," said Five. "Well, one of them, anyway."

"One of the people from that academy?" Vanya asked. "You said there were six of them."

"There are. Besides me, there's Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, and Ben. Though Ben... well, he's dead. He died a long time ago, when we were all still children."

"Oh." Vanya slumped slightly in her seat. "Okay."

"Why do we have to find Luther?" Nadine asked. "Why not... literally anyone else? Why don't we focus our energy on tracking down Allison or Klaus?"

"Because, unlike Allison and Klaus, I happen to know where Luther is," Five said. "Remember? I found him right before I found Diego."

"Yeah, and then you said he left you in the dust."

Five clenched his jaw. "Well, he was—justifiably, I suppose—pissed at me for stranding him here for a year. So pissed, in fact, that when I told him about the apocalypse, he said—and these are his exact words here—that he didn't give a shit."

Nadine let out a laugh, smacking the steering wheel. "And you still think he's our number one priority?"

"He's the only lead we have."

"Look, it probably won't be that hard to track down Allison or Klaus. And... do you really trust him to lead us, after everything that happened back in 2019?"

"What?" Vanya leaned forward. "What did he do?"

"Later, Vanya," said Five. Then, to Nadine: "If we're going to stop the apocalypse, Chosen One, then we need him on our side. We need all of the members of the Umbrella Academy, not just the ones we pick and choose. That's why I picked you up, instead of just leaving you here."

Nadine's hands twitched with the urge to throttle him.

"I'm gonna kill him," she murmured. Five sighed.

"I get that a lot. But are you going to take us to Luther, or does the woman with a still-healing head injury have to drive?"

"Hey!" Vanya protested. "I can drive fine."

Nadine leaned back in her seat and let loose an overexaggerated sigh. "Fine," she said eventually. "Tell me where shit-for-brains is, and I'll take you there. But don't expect me to be happy about it."

"Great," said Five. "He works for Jack Ruby. I trust you know who that is?"

Nadine swore she'd heard that name somewhere, but when her mind attempted to dredge for it, it came up blank. "No," she said, at the same time Vanya did.

Five pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something incoherent under his breath. Nadine settled her hands back on the steering wheel and gave him a shrug.

"You can't exactly blame me for not knowing, Five. In case you've forgotten, I'm French. I never learned American History." She gestured to Vanya. "And you should let Vanya off, too. She doesn't remember a lick of her life up until a month ago."

Although Vanya was still obviously shaken, she gave Nadine a weak smile.

"You know what?" asked Five, smiling tightly. It was the type of smile that told Nadine just how much he wanted to murder them. The feeling's mutual, dickbag. "It doesn't even matter who Jack Ruby is. Let's just find Luther."

He gave Nadine the address, and then they were off, driving into the late afternoon light.

NADINE DIDN'T KNOW what she expected when she arrived at Luther's workplace, but it certainly wasn't a shady den that housed an illegal fighting arena. When she pictured a potential career path Luther may have gone down, she imagined a hardware store, or perhaps a quaint little greenhouse. Certainly not an area so densely packed with the mingling stenches of male body odour, blood, beer and smoke that she had to hold her collar over her nose. Certainly not a place that required the group to squish past at least a hundred men, most of them white, to find a seat. Certainly not a place where bills waved in the air, men spat into the ring, and the only available spot to sit was behind a barrier of rusty metal bars.

Luther wasn't hard to spot. Not just because he was as bulky as ever, but because he was in the ring, facing off against an opponent nearly half his size. He wore a dirty white tank top that clearly showcased his inhuman body—swollen muscles, discoloured skin, and unnaturally hairy arms—and there were bandages wrapped around his large hands. As Nadine smoothed out her dress, Luther swung a punch.

Unconsciously, her hand wandered to her collar—the exact spot Luther had seized her by when he'd slammed her against the wall in the Umbrella Academy's basement. Had he truly meant to use so much force on her, even though she was concussed, or had he just lost control of his own strength?

Either way, it was terrifying.

"I know him," Vanya said suddenly. When both Five and Nadine turned to her, bewildered, she explained, "He... he came to the farm yesterday. He told me... he told me he was sorry for something he'd done. Something... something he'd done to me."

Nadine blinked. "He already spoke to you?" she asked. "And he didn't... he didn't try anything?"

She'd been so sure that when Luther saw Vanya, he'd revert right back to his old ways. He'd treat her as a threat that needed to be controlled, instead of his own sister. But if Vanya was to be believed—and fuck, Nadine did believe her—then he hadn't. He'd apologized for what he'd done, and perhaps felt genuine remorse for it.

Nadine balled her hands into fists. She couldn't be sure, not yet, that Luther had changed his ways completely. But she was glad that he'd said sorry to Vanya, even if it was the bare minimum thing to do.

Luther's own flailing fist cracked his opponent straight in the mouth, sending spittle and blood flying into the dusty air. The man backed up to the edge of the arena, wiping at his mouth with a bandaged hand. Nadine leaned forward, preparing for the moment Luther finished this guy off. He was a clear pantywaist, easy to take out even without superpowers.

But... he didn't. Instead of surging forward to swing another blow, Luther staggered, then went still. Nadine could only see a small portion of his face from the angle she was sitting at, but even she could spot the numbness that had crossed over his expression. His eyes were unfocused, like he was thinking of something else. What on Earth was so important that he was focusing on it in the middle of a fight?

Luther's opponent recovered quickly, and slammed a fist right into his nose. Luther stumbled back from the blow, but made no move to fight back. His opponent hit him again, and again, and Vanya, beside Nadine, winced, as if each blow Luther caught had been inflicted on her, too.

The crowd booed. Men yelled at Luther to fight back, and secretly, Nadine was with them. Luther could kick his ass in five seconds—why was he just standing there?

Something strange was going on.

"Look, he's pummeling him," said Vanya breathlessly.

"What the fuck is he doing?" Nadine asked.

Luther muttered something to his opponent, who seized his head and threw him into the side of the arena. He landed right below Nadine, Vanya, and Five, who were at the edge of their seats by now.

"Oh, my God, Luther," Vanya cried. Five just seemed bewildered.

"Why isn't he fighting back?"

Blood was running down Luther's face now. His opponent caught him in the gut, in the jaw, and although Luther was in obvious pain, he took it all without lifting a finger. Five pushed his head through the bars.

"Luther, are you crazy? Just hit him!"

Luther didn't. Instead, he said something else to his opponent—again, Nadine couldn't catch it over the deafening crowd. The man stepped back, narrowed his eyes, and swung his fist into the soft spot under Luther's chin. The uppercut sent him flying off his feet and into the air, where he floated, for just a moment. Then he fell, landing on his back. Blood glistened on his face, and his eyes were two slits. For a heart-stopping second, Nadine feared he was dead.

Then he moved ever so slightly, and the crowd burst into a louder chorus of boos.

"Shit," muttered Five. "Luther."

Nadine put a startled hand over her mouth.

"Why didn't he fight back?" Vanya asked. Nadine had no answer to that.

ALTHOUGH A PART of Nadine—a ridiculously small, nearly minuscule part—was tempted to check on Luther after his match, she had no choice but to depart. Five and Vanya stayed behind, either to take care of him (that was Vanya) or recruit him back into the Umbrella Academy (Five). There was a pinch of guilt simmering in Nadine's gut for leaving them, but she needed to get home to Molly. Tonight would be the night everything was revealed; Nadine knew if she didn't do it today, she'd never do it at all.

Even though the thought of spilling the beans made Nadine's heart feel as if it was about to pound right out of her chest, she knew it was the right thing to do. She could only pray that she would have the strength to do it when the moment came.

She took a cab home—the den was too far to go on foot, and Five and Vanya needed the car to head back to Elliott's. Nothing substantial happened on the drive, except for the suspicious number of police cars that whizzed by. The news channel the cabbie was listening to was saying something about a riot, but Nadine was so caught up in preparing what she'd say to Molly that she barely listened. Even when the reporter said it was happening at Stadtler's, the very lunch counter Nadine had once caused a scene in, it didn't register. The only thought that bounced around her mind was Molly, Molly, Molly.

When she was finally dropped off, she stood on the porch for a few minutes, listening to the chirping of crickets in the nearby bushes. A thin breeze swept over her, clinking the windchimes hanging over her head. A squirrel chittered from the front-lawn tree.

How was she going to start? How could she possibly begin one of the hardest conversations she'd ever have in her entire life? There were a million possibilities, but none of them seemed right. The weight she would soon be dropping onto Molly's shoulders was an excruciatingly heavy one—how could she ever prepare her for its burden?

In the end, it became clear that there wasn't any way to prepare. No matter how long she spent trying to plan this, she was never going to perfect her speech—this was a difficult topic, not an essay she could type up in a day. Besides, Nadine had always been impulsive. There were times she did things better spontaneously than she ever did when she wrote it all out.

Eventually, she realized she couldn't stand on the porch forever. The door opened easily—Molly had left it open. Like last night, it creaked when Nadine twisted the knob, signalling to Molly that she was home.

Unlike last night, however, Nadine did not find Molly in the living room, playing a game of chess with Nicholas. Instead, she was in the kitchen, making onigiri—Japanese rice balls. The sleeves of her dress were rolled up, and she was wearing her favourite apron—pale blue, patterned with orange blossoms. Her black hair was pulled back with a ribbon, then coiled into a bun at the nape of her neck. She was beautiful, as she always was. Nadine's heart stuttered as she took her in.

"Nadine!" Molly sounded ecstatic to see her. "You're home early. I wasn't expecting you for another hour or two, at least."

Nadine shrugged. "Well, I left early," she said. "I guess I just can't go too long without seeing you."

Molly's face stretched into a grin. "Come here and help me with these, all right?"

Nadine bent down to take off her shoes. Her blood was practically roaring in her ears now, and her vision took on a strange, fuzzy quality. "You sure you can trust me in the kitchen?" she asked. She held up her arm, revealing the scar of the burn on her bicep. "Apparently, I don't mix well with flames."

"Lucky for you, there's no fire involved in this," said Molly. "Well, no fire anymore. The rice has already been cooked."

Nadine pulled on her slippers. "All right," she said, then crossed over to Molly. She was trying to play it casual, but her hands were trembling, and her heart was a hammer thudding on her ribcage. "What do you need me to do?"

Molly gestured to the slices of nori on the cutting board, then to the plate of onigiri that had already been shaped. Onigiri was often, but not always, wrapped in dry seaweed, and Nadine knew instinctively what Molly was asking her to do. She could handle that. Even if her gut was churning like a stormy sea.

"I already cut the pieces you'll need," said Molly, scooping rice from her cooker and shaping it with her hands. "You can just use one for each ball, and you should be fine."

"Okay," said Nadine. Her insides were screaming; her mind had become a hive of buzzing bees. The world is ending. The world is ending. I have superpowers. I'm from the future. I was fired yesterday. I'm going to tell you all of it tonight. Vanya doesn't remember me. I'll probably tell you that, too. She moved towards the sink and washed her still trembling hands. The water that flowed over them was far too hot, but she made no move to change it. Even when steam curled from her skin.

Nadine turned off the faucet and dried her hands. After returning the towel to the rack, she picked up one of the onigiri and wrapped a piece of nori around it. This wasn't their dinner tonight—judging by the pot simmering on the stove, tonight's meal would be potato leek soup. No, the onigiri would be their lunch for tomorrow. Sometimes, when Molly found time for it, she packed the two of them meals for the next day, so they didn't need to worry about spending their coins on vending machines or diners. Nadine helped, where she could. Although she tried to make up for the fact that she couldn't cook by doing other chores around the house, she still felt guilty for saddling Molly with the entire burden of their meals.

Tonight, though, tomorrow's lunch was really the least of Nadine's concerns.

Molly seemed to notice, too. "You're very quiet," she pointed out. "Is everything all right? Your boss wasn't giving you a hard time again, was he?"

Your boss. Nadine almost laughed. No, it certainly wasn't Leroy who had her so on edge right now. That ship had long since sailed.

She decided to be honest—well, partially. With a nervous swallow that did nothing to moisturize her dry mouth, she said, "There's... there's something I need to tell you."

Molly's eyebrows went up. "Really, what is it?"

Nadine swallowed again. She needed a glass of water. "It's not exactly something I can tell you while we're making lunch," she said. "I think... I think you should at least be sitting down for this."

A hint of worry crossed Molly's face, and Nadine cringed away from it like it was a deadly beast. "All right," she said. "It's not—it's not bad, is it?"

If you don't consider the end of the world bad, then no, Nadine thought. Aloud, she said, "It's complicated."

"Okay," said Molly. "You know you can trust me, right, Nads? I'm here for you. Nothing you could say to me could ever make me stop loving you." She reached out, cupping Nadine's cheek. "Seriously. You could tell me you'd murdered someone, and I'd just ask you where you hid the body."

Nadine let out a watery laugh and tugged Molly forward. Kissing her was like a breath of fresh air, and Nadine hadn't realized just how much she'd needed it. She deepened the kiss, hands mussing up Molly's pristine hairstyle. Molly bumped into the counter, and laughed underneath Nadine's lips.

Eventually, they split apart, and that was only because Molly needed to stir the soup.

When the soup was ready and the onigiri completed, they sat down to eat. The window was open, so even from here, Nadine could hear the distant sounds of police sirens. She ate slowly, trying not to let her trembling hands spill too much of the soup. When Molly noticed this, she reached out and grabbed Nadine's wrist.

"Nads, I can see this is eating you up," she said. "Please, just tell me."

Nadine inhaled a shuddering breath. Where to start? She supposed at the beginning.

"I... I haven't exactly been truthful with you," she began, ducking her head. Bile boiled up in her throat, enough to make her lose her appetite. She pushed her bowl away.

"What do you mean?" Molly asked. God, she probably thought Nadine was cheating on her.

"Remember the first day we met, when I came into the Sunrise Cove?" Nadine asked. "I was... well, I was in shock, and I had a concussion and a busted shoulder."

"I remember," said Molly. She, too, had set down her spoon. Her cheeks flushed with worry. "You told me you got into a car accident."

"I didn't," said Nadine. "It was... it was a lie."

Molly swallowed. "Then... what happened?" she asked. Nadine's heart was beating even faster now. She thought she really might be sick.

"Molls, do you believe in time travel?"

"Time travel?" Molly's face scrunched up. "Nads, what are you talking about? Are you feeling okay?"

Of course. Nadine nearly laughed out loud, and that was only because she felt like she was about to cry. How the fuck was she going to tell Molly anything? It all sounded batshit insane. Even if she proved she had superpowers, everything else—including the Umbrella Academy, and the fact that Nadine was technically born fifty-five years after Molly—would be a beast to prove. After all, for Molly to meet the Umbrella Academy, she had to agree to come with Nadine, first.

She dropped her arms, and one of her hands brushed against her pocket. It was weighed down with her cellphone, which she'd brought along with her today. Her cellphone, from 2019. Her cellphone, that looked nothing like the rotary phones used in 1963. Her cellphone, which she'd never shown Molly.

"Nads?" Molly prompted. "What is this all about?"

Nadine pulled her cellphone out of her pocket, but kept it in her lap. She ran her thumb over the smooth glass screen and tried to take a steady breath. Come on, Nadine. You can do this. You have to do this.

"It's about the truth, Molly," said Nadine. Please don't hate me for it. "It's about who I really am." She breathed in again. "My name is Nadine Gabrielle Vidal, which you already know. I was born in Dijon, France, on October 1st, 1989, to a mother who hadn't been pregnant when the day first began..."

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HAVEN: just a warning that the next chapter is probably going to be the most triggering in the entire book, so please, be careful when reading. there will be a more specific warning about its contents at the beginning, but i'm just giving you a heads up. i love you all.

thanks for reading <333