The room was too clean.
Maya noticed it immediately — the polished floor, the neutral-colored walls, the faint scent of antiseptic masked with artificial lavender. This wasn't a place where people were punished.
It was a place where people were prepared.
She stood in the center of it, arms folded tightly across her chest, as if she could physically hold herself together while everything she believed unraveled.
"Sit," the woman said calmly.
Maya didn't.
"You said I was a contingency," Maya replied, her voice low but steady. "You said I was placed. Start explaining."
The woman studied her for a moment — not with anger, not with impatience, but with something far worse.
Assessment.
Finally, she nodded once. "Very well."
She tapped a button on the table.
The glass wall behind Maya flickered to life.
Images appeared.
Surveillance footage. Old. Grainy.
Maya leaned forward despite herself.
The first clip showed a teenage girl stepping out of a crowded bus station — nervous, clutching a backpack too tightly.
Maya's stomachiler.
"That's me," she whispered.
"Yes," the woman said. "Age seventeen. Alone. Vulnerable. Perfect."
Maya spun around. "Perfect for what?"
"For Project L."
The images changed.
Documents. Charts. Names blacked out.
Then faces.
Men in suits. Men with weapons. Men who looked like they'd never appear on the news but shaped the world anyway.
"Project L," the woman continued, "was not a weapon program. It was not military. It was not experimental science."
Maya's heart pounded. "Then what was it?"
The woman met her gaze.
"It was a leverage program."
The word hit like a slap.
"Power," the woman said, "doesn't always come from guns or money. The most effective control comes from people — specifically, from what people are willing to destroy themselves to protect."
Maya shook her head slowly. "You're talking about hostages."
The woman smiled faintly. "We prefer the term anchors."
The screen shifted again.
Kelvin.
Younger. Harder. Eyes colder than Maya had ever seen.
He was standing beside the man — him — listening intently, nodding as instructions were given.
Maya's throat closed.
"Kelvin was one of our best operators," the woman said. "Strategic. Loyal. Predictable."
"Until he wasn't," Maya whispered.
"Until he broke protocol," the woman agreed. "He stole data. Destroyed assets. And disappeared."
The footage froze on Kelvin's face.
"When Kelvin vanished," the woman continued, "we assumed he would resurface. Men like him always do. But he didn't."
She turned to Maya again.
"So we activated the contingency."
Maya's breath trembled. "Me."
"Yes."
Maya laughed — sharp and hollow. "So what? You planted me like a spy?"
"No," the woman said immediately. "You were never meant to spy."
She leaned forward, folding her hands.
"You were meant to be protected."
The room seemed to tilt.
"Protected… from what?"
"From the truth," the woman replied. "From us. From him. From Kelvin's enemies."
Maya's voice cracked. "Why?"
"Because leverage only works if it believes it's human," the woman said calmly. "Not strategic. Not informed. Just… real."
Maya staggered back a step.
"So my life—" she swallowed hard "—was just a safety lock?"
"A failsafe," the woman corrected. "You were placed in Kelvin's path so that if he ever resurfaced, we could find him."
Maya clenched her fists. "You used my feelings."
"Yes."
"You used my friend."
The woman's gaze didn't waver. "Yes."
Maya's chest burned. "And if I hadn't fallen for him?"
The woman paused.
"Then Project L would have been deemed a failure."
Silence swallowed the room.
Maya felt sick.
"You let me believe I was normal," she whispered. "You let me believe my choices were mine."
"They were," the woman said. "That's what made them valuable."
Maya's laugh broke again, this time edged with rage. "You don't get to call this science. This is cruelty."
The woman stood. "This is control."
---
Miles away, Kelvin sat in the dim light of the hidden room, the file spread open before him.
Every page confirmed what he had feared — and worse.
Project L wasn't just about Maya.
There were others.
Names. Faces. Outcomes.
Some labeled SUCCESSFUL.
Some labeled TERMINATED.
Kelvin's hands shook.
"You monsters," he muttered.
The burner phone vibrated.
A message appeared.
UNKNOWN: She's learning. That's dangerous.
Kelvin typed back without hesitation.
KELVIN: Touch her again and I burn everything.
Three dots appeared.
Then vanished.
Another message came through.
UNKNOWN: You already did.
Kelvin's blood ran cold.
He grabbed another file — one he hadn't dared open before.
Inside was a familiar name.
LENA CARTER.
Kelvin stood abruptly, fury blazing through him.
"They never let go," he growled. "They just change targets."
---
Back in the glass room, Maya straightened slowly.
Her fear was still there — but it was changing.
"You said I have a choice now," she said quietly.
"Yes," the woman replied. "Remain leverage… or become active."
Maya lifted her chin. "What does 'active' mean?"
The woman smiled — this time with something like respect.
"It means you stop being protected," she said. "And start being trained."
Maya's heart raced.
"You'll turn me into Kelvin."
"No," the woman corrected. "Kelvin was loyal. You won't be."
Maya closed her eyes briefly, thinking of Lena. Of Kelvin. Of a life that had never truly been hers.
When she opened them again, her voice was steady.
"If I agree," she said, "my friend walks free. Permanently."
The woman considered.
"Agreed."
"And Kelvin?"
A pause.
"He lives," the woman said carefully. "For now."
Maya nodded.
"Then teach me," she said. "Because when I'm done… Project L ends with me."
For the first time, the woman's smile faltered.
---