Mind Code (Coded Connections Duet #2)

Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Amelia

It’s Sunday afternoon, and we’re standing in a rundown part of Seattle, the kind of neighborhood where the air feels thicker, weighed down by years of neglect. The buildings around us have clearly seen better days—with cracked paint peeling away from weathered facades, rusty railings that have long since lost their shine, and windows so grimy they look like they haven’t been cleaned in years.

We arrived here straight from the hospital after visiting Mr. Donovan and delivering the promised cake and audiobooks. Despite our best efforts to hide it, he noticed the tension simmering beneath the surface. When we explained the situation to him, he didn’t mince words, asking why the hell we were wasting time with him instead of getting the answers we needed.

His bluntness hit home, and we quickly piled back into the Tesla, driving over to this place. Now, standing in front of the apartment building, I can’t shake the unease settling in my stomach. The guys are tense, too, their expressions mirroring the apprehension I feel .

“Are you sure this is the address you found?” Doubt lingers in my question as I glance at Grey.

Grey doesn’t hesitate. “I’m sure,” he replies firmly, though there’s a hint of unease in his eyes as he surveys the area.

Before I can say anything else, I hear footsteps approaching from behind. I turn around and spot Willow coming toward us, her face lighting up with recognition when she sees me. “Amelia?”

“Willow!” I say, relief flooding my chest as I step forward to hug her. I pull back and ask, “How have you been?” But at the simple question, the spark in her eyes dims.

Willow just shrugs a noncommittal gesture that makes my heart ache a little. “I’m fine,” she says, her voice distant, as if she’s somewhere else entirely.

I exchange a quick look with Oliver before turning back to Willow. “Is your dad home? We wanted to talk to him.”

“Sure,” Willow replies with another shrug, turns, and leads us up to the apartment. The stairs creak under our feet as we climb, the hallway dimly lit and smelling faintly of mildew. My heart races with anticipation and dread.

When we reach the door, Willow opens it and steps inside, calling out, “Dad, Amelia and her friends are here.”

The apartment is small, almost claustrophobic, and the furniture is sparse and so worn, it makes my chest tighten. Hendricks is sitting at a small table, hunched over a laptop. When he sees us, his eyes widen in shock, and he stands so abruptly his chair scrapes against the floor. “Fuck,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, but the word hits me like a punch.

That’s not a reaction of someone who’s innocent.

My heart plummets, and I exchange a worried glance with Grey, who’s standing tensely beside me .

“Willow, can you go into your room, please?” Hendricks asks, almost pleading. “The adults need to have a conversation.”

Willow’s eyes flash with something sharp—resentment, maybe—and she retorts, “Why don’t you go to yours? Oh, right, I forgot, you don’t have one.”

I glance around the small apartment and notice the couch in the corner, rumpled and strewn with blankets. It’s clearly been used as a makeshift bed.

Willow stalks over to a door and pulls it closed with unnecessary force, making the room feel even smaller.

Hendricks sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, weariness evident in every word. “She’s… difficult right now. But you probably don’t want to hear about that. You’re here for something else, aren’t you?”

Grey steps forward, his expression steely. “We’re here because we want answers.”

Hendricks nods, looking like he’s aged a decade in the last few weeks. His frame is thinner, his eyes sunken with dark circles beneath them. “I’m glad you’re here,” he admits, though his hands tremble slightly. “I thought I could live with the knowledge of what I’ve done, but I can’t.”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “You stole my work?”

Hendricks’ eyes widen, his face paling. “Your work? No, Stanley, I didn’t steal it, I…” He curses under his breath, frustration cracking his composure. “Fuck.”

“Then what?” I ask, feeling my throat tighten. The air in the room is thick with tension.

Misha, who’s been standing silently behind me until now, steps forward. “I think it’s time to spill, buddy.”

Hendricks swallows hard, then nods, his shoulders slumping as if he’s carrying the weight of the world. He sighs deeply before starting to explain. “It all started when Willow was over at your place. She saw the AR interfaces in your apartment, and afterward, she couldn’t stop talking about it. I noticed how different you seemed since you started beta testing for these guys…” he gestures vaguely toward Grey and Oliver, “… and I got worried. I thought they were pulling you in to test more than just the AI, that they were roping you into…”

He looks around at the guys, his gaze faltering. “I… I didn’t trust them,” he admits, guilt etched into his features. “But I knew you were falling for them, and I just knew it wouldn’t go over well if I tried to talk to you about it…” He pauses, looking down at his hands as if the words are too painful to say. “I made a mistake and went to Langley,” he finally says, barely above a whisper. “I told him my suspicions, that these guys were taking advantage of you, dragging you into something dangerous. I mentioned the lensless AR Willow described seeing at your place. Langley wanted proof. He asked me to go into your apartment and get evidence, but I refused. I told him you wouldn’t just talk about it with me and that I wasn’t going to invade your privacy like that.”

Oliver’s jaw tightens, his eyes flashing with anger. “You went to Langley with this? Without even talking to her first? You could’ve confronted us before doing something so reckless.”

Hendricks’ voice cracks as he continues, “I know, okay? I fucked up. But then I fucked up even more. In a stupid moment, I let it slip that Willow had a spare key to Stanley’s apartment. Langley seized on that, said I needed to use the key to get in and bring him the proof. I refused again, but then he started pressuring me, reminding me of all the additional support Willow was getting, specialized tutors, therapy, and extra resources that Elysium was subsidizing as part of an employee assistance program for families with children who have learning disabilities.”

He runs a hand through his hair, looking defeated. “Even with Elysium’s decent pay, I couldn’t afford all those extra services on my own. Langley knew that. He said if I didn’t do what he asked, all that support would disappear. Willow would lose her spot at the school, and all the progress she’d made would be at risk. I felt trapped… I thought I didn’t have a choice.”

Grey’s eyes narrow, his voice cold and deliberate. “You had a choice! But you handed over Amelia’s safety because of a threat. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Hendricks flinches at Grey’s words, the guilt and regret etched deeply into his features. “I know. I know I made a horrible mistake, and I’m so sorry. But at that moment, I felt trapped. I was scared for Willow, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

Oliver shakes his head, disbelief mingling with anger. “So you thought the best course of action was to put Amelia in harm’s way instead?”

Hendricks’ voice shakes with emotion as he speaks. “I was desperate. I didn’t want to do it. Hell, I would have never thought that he would hurt her. And I couldn’t let Willow lose her education. So we compromised. I gave him your key. He promised he’d only go in for a few minutes, just to look around. I told him you were out on a date that night, thinking you’d be gone for a while…” He trails off as tears well up in his eyes. “When I saw you lying there… when I realized he’d hurt you… all because of me… I couldn’t live with that. I got the key back from him, but only because I threatened to go to the police. After that, I couldn’t stay at Elysium. I didn’t want to be part of any of it anymore, so I quit. Now, I’m stuck in this crappy apartment, barely getting by to keep paying for Willows’s school, but soon, I won’t even be able to do that anymore, and she’ll have to go to a public school after all. Everything I did… it was all for nothing.”

Grey’s expression hardens as he presses further. “So why didn’t you go to the police when you had nothing left to lose?”

Hendricks looks down, shame and fear etched into his features. “Because Langley threatened to frame me as an accomplice if I did. He said he’d make it look like I was in on it from the start, that I was the one with the key, and that I willingly gave it to him. He has emails, proof that I knew what was happening… I was terrified. If he went through with it, I’d be ruined. And then what would happen to Willow? We don’t have anyone else. If something happened to me, there’d be no one left to take care of her. I couldn’t risk it.”

Hendricks looks at me, his eyes filled with desperation. “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. My conscience is tearing me apart. I knew I had to come clean, but every time I tried, I thought about what it would mean for Willow. I couldn’t bring myself to take that step.”

The room falls into a heavy silence, the weight of Hendricks’ confession hanging over us all. I feel the shock and anger radiating from the guys beside me, but more than anything, I feel an overwhelming sadness. Hendricks wasn’t just trying to protect Willow—he was trying to protect me too.

And in the process, everything fell apart.

Grey’s voice is low and controlled, but there’s an edge to it that makes me wince. “You put Amelia in danger. You gave Langley access to her home, and he hurt her. You stole from her, even if you didn’t do it directly. We should call the police on you right now. ”

Hendricks just nods, his gaze flickering toward the closed door where Willow had disappeared.

If something happens to Hendricks, what will happen to Willow?

She’s already struggling, and the thought of her being left alone makes my stomach churn.

“You never wanted to hurt me, right?” I ask softly, and his eyes snap back to me, filled with a mixture of guilt and desperation.

He shakes his head vehemently, tears brimming in his eyes. “No, Stanley, I swear I didn’t. I genuinely thought I was helping you, protecting you. I was worried about you. But when I realized I was the one bringing you harm and that they were the good ones… it was too late. I was trapped in my own mess.”

I glance at Misha and Oliver. They’re both still tense, but there’s a flicker of something else in their expressions—conflict, maybe. They’re angry, but they also understand what it’s like to be driven by fear and desperation. I take a deep breath and turn back to Hendricks.

“I’m willing to forgive you,” I say, keeping my tone steady. “But only if you’re willing to speak up and testify against Langley… with Elysium, with the police, with whoever needs to hear the truth so I can get my work back. And if you do, we’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you or Willow. We’ll protect you.”

Hendricks looks up at me, hope flickering in his tired eyes, but he quickly shakes his head. “You can’t promise that. The law is the law. What I did… there are consequences.”

I smile at him, a small, reassuring smile, and then look over at Grey.

The guy who can hack himself into everything.

The guy who can lie his way out of the Pentagon .

“We can, Hendricks. I promise you, we can.”

Grey meets my gaze, and after a moment, he nods. “If you cooperate fully, we’ll make sure the authorities understand the full context of what happened. But you have to be all in. No half measures.”

Hendricks looks like he might collapse from relief, nodding vigorously. “I will. I’ll… I’ll do anything to make amends. A-anything,” he stammers, his hands trembling slightly.

Just then, the door to Willows’s room creaks open, and she comes back into the living area. “Dad, I’m hungry,” she says, her voice still tinged with that sharp edge, but there’s a vulnerability there too.

Hendricks immediately pulls her to a side hug, holding her close as if she’s the most precious thing in the world. His eyes meet mine, filled with a silent plea. “As long as Willow will be okay… I’ll help with whatever you need, Stanley.”

Willow looks up at me, curiosity flickering in her eyes before she rolls them dramatically, crossing her arms over her chest. “For the hundredth time, it’s so weird that you guys are friends and still call each other by your last names.”

I smirk, grateful for the break in the tension.

Misha chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, seriously. I’ve been wondering about that too. What’s the deal with the last names?”

I shrug, glancing at Hendricks with a small smile. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I think I just went along with it because he started it.”

Hendricks smiles back at me, pulling Willow closer, though she quickly pushes him away and stands beside him with a bit of distance.

Typical preteen.

Hendricks doesn’t seem fazed, though, as he begins to explain, “You know, there’s something subtle but significant that happens when we talk about people, especially in professional settings. When men achieve something noteworthy, we often refer to them by just their last name. Darwin, Dickens, Shakespeare. But when it comes to women, even those who are equally accomplished, we tend to use their full names. Marie Curie, Emily Dickinson, Jane Austen. It’s as if there’s an underlying bias that suggests a woman isn’t as widely recognized or deserving of prominence, so we feel the need to specify her full name. But by doing that, we can unintentionally diminish her standing, as if she’s not on the same level…” He pauses, locking eyes with me, and there’s a depth of sincerity in his gaze that makes my breath hitch.

“So, when I call Stanley by her last name, it’s a deliberate choice. She’s brilliant, already doing incredible things, and I have no doubt she’ll accomplish even more in the future. I want to acknowledge her the same way I do with any other male colleagues I respect… by her last name alone. And honestly, it’s not just about her. It’s about the kind of world I want my daughter to grow up in. I want Willow to see that women can be recognized and respected just as much as men without needing extra qualifiers. Stanley deserves that recognition, and I’m committed to making sure she gets it.”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, I’m stunned. I’ve always taken the last-name thing in stride, never really thinking much of it. But hearing Hendricks explain it like that—knowing he’s thought so deeply about it, about what it means for Willow and me—makes me see it and him in a new light.

It’s not just a habit. It’s a statement.

A small but powerful way of showing respect and equality.

I realize that despite all the mess he’s created, his intentions were rooted in something good, something I can forgive.

We’re all here, flawed and struggling but trying to do right by each other. A soft smile forms on Willows’ lips as she steps slightly closer to her dad again.

We’re all trying.