I didn't say anything for a long time after her confession.
She used to be one of them.
Not just watched.
She was trained.
"You really think they're going to come for me?" I asked finally.
Lena nodded. "They already are."
I looked around like someone might be listening. Maybe they were.
"I thought you left because you had to," I said. "You said it wasn't your choice."
"It wasn't," she said quietly. "Not at first."
She leaned against the wall, eyes distant.
"When they found me, I thought I'd get answers. I thought I'd finally understand why this was happening to me."
Her voice turned bitter. "Turns out, they didn't care about helping us. They cared about using us."
I frowned. "For what?"
She glanced at me. "Control."
I didn't get it.
She sighed. "They taught me how to sharpen my flashes. How to make them clearer. Longer. Then they started asking me to predict things—big things. Not just who would fail a test or if it would rain tomorrow."
Her jaw tightened. "They wanted to know about fights. Accidents. Decisions that changed lives."
I swallowed hard. "And did you?"
She looked away. "Once. I told them something would happen during a school event. A fight that turned into something worse."
Her voice dropped. "It did. And I never forgave myself."
I stared at her.
"That's why I ran," she said. "Because I realized they weren't just studying us. They were shaping the future."
A chill ran through me.
And then another flash hit.
But this time, it wasn't a warning.
It was a memory.
Me. Standing in front of a group.
Telling them what to do.
Like I already knew how it would end.
Except… I didn't remember doing that.
Yet.