The Recall Trials
Chapter 40: No Innocents Here I

Chapter 40: No Innocents Here I

"Wait," Asha whispered. "So, you’re like... a hacker?"

Dinesh scratched the back of his head, tugging a shy smile at his lip despite the blood. "Yeah. I guess you could call it that."

Damn," Theo muttered. "A nerd and a Rebellion. Impressive."

"I mean, it wasn’t just rebellion," Dinesh said. "I believed in the system once. I thought it was keeping people safe. But the more I saw behind the curtain... the more I realized how broken it was. How rigged. I couldn’t keep pretending."

His voice cracked a little at the end, but he didn’t look away this time.

Even Aaron looked a little guilty.

Jojo raised her chin slightly. "Guess not all techies are spineless, huh?"

Someone else clapped slowly in the corner. A few others nodded

The tension loosened, just a little. Enough for the group to see him for what he was...not just a broken kid from Sector B, but someone who had risked everything.

I looked at him again and felt a weird twist in my chest.

Because people like Dinesh...people who tried to do the right thing and still got burned, were the exact reason I hated where I came from.

And the exact reason I was still terrified someone would figure out who I really was.

A girl stood up from the edge of the bed. She couldn’t have been more than nineteen. Slim, with a hoodie tied loosely around her waist, and long dark braids that fell over her shoulders.

"Ella," she said quietly.

"I’m from Sector D. My mom... she used to sell bootleg meds. It was the only way we could afford to eat."

"When she got caught, they came for me. Said I had potential. Whatever the hell that means. Next thing I know, I’m waking up in this jumpsuit, with cameras watching me."

"No dramatic or cool backstory like the others. Just a shitty system that eats people."

Then someone else stepped up. I’d barely noticed him before...lanky, long arms, light freckles under his eyes. He kept to himself most of the time. But now he pushed forward, clearing his throat.

"I’m Nico," he said. "I’m from Sector B."

That got a few raised eyebrows.

He scratched his arm. " Actually, I used to be a stylist. Worked with rich clients, dressed up celebs for galas and livestreams. They’d toss me insane money to pick out what shoes go with what mood."

He gave a laugh.

"Anyway... got caught stealing. Was giving high-end clothes to people in the lower wards. Yeah, I know...dumb, right? They said I could either rot or... entertain."

He made finger quotes at the word.

"So... here I am. Entertaining."

There were a few chuckles.

And since we’re all out here spilling secrets like it’s therapy night...and if Jojo can admit she’s a badass assassin lesbian, guess I’ll join the party."

He grinned, locking eyes with me.

"I’m gay. I’m into hunks. Hot guys. You know... tall, brooding, probably emotionally unavailable types."

He threw a wink in my direction and bit his lip dramatically.

I blinked. Did he just—?

People in the back burst out laughing.

"We know, Nico!" someone shouted.

Even Zaara grinned, nudging me. "Someone’s got a crush on you."

I shook my head with a small laugh.

Truth had a weird way of softening things.

I stared at everyone in the room. We weren’t enemies. We were just tired people. A strange circle of strangers, all pulled into the same nightmare.

Carter cleared his throat and stepped forward again, looking at all of us.

"Alright. We keep going like this. Anyone shifts their story, starts acting off... we notice. We keep track. We don’t turn on each other without reason. But we stay sharp."

If we didn’t find the wildcard...

The wildcard would find us.

I turned to glance at the screen glowing faintly from the wall.

62 hours left.

Ten already gone.

And somehow... it felt like we hadn’t even scratched the surface yet.

We had more to lose than just our secrets.

Even tho we had each other. None of us knew how much longer that would last.

Then Nomi came forward.

"I’m Nomi. From Sector C. But that’s not the full story."

She gave a small breath and crossed her arms.

"I was actually born in Sector A."

That pulled a few gasps. Someone even muttered, "No way."

"Yeah. I used to live up there. Mansions. Servants. All that picture-perfect crap you see on the screens. But don’t be fooled. It’s all a lie. Fake smiles, fake dinners, fake families."

My chest tightened.

"Everything was about power. Who had more. Who faked it better. Even the kids were vicious...like we were bred to destroy each other. You either won, or you got eaten alive."

She swallowed.

"My dad owned one of the biggest biotech firms. Until he didn’t. He lost everything. His company. His name. Everything. He got arrested, and suddenly... boom. We were dumped into Sector C like trash. And just like that, I became the girl who didn’t belong anywhere. My mom took pills to ’sleep’ through the fallout. I had to grow up... fast."

She paced slowly, almost like a predator sizing up a room.

"Sector C didn’t welcome me with flowers either," she added. "I was that spoiled Sector A brat who got tossed from the top. They called me all kinds of names. Rich brat. Spoiled scum. Poser. Princess. Like I chose where I was born."

There was a pause.

"But it made me tougher. Meaner, maybe.."

She lifted her gaze again, looking straight at Jojo now.

"And I get it, Jojo. I really do. That little girl you spared? If her dad had died... she might’ve grown up angry. Alone. Like I did."

"So thanks. For sparing his life." She whispered.

The room was still. For once, no one interrupted. No jokes. No side-eyes.

Even Jojo gave her a slow nod.. maybe a sign of respect. Maybe just understanding.

We were all starting to realize: every person in that room had bled somewhere before they ever set foot in the Trials.

No one had come here whole.

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