"You said, 'I should bash your brains in right now.' I apologize for assuming you were a liar and a flirt. I see now you were quite serious, and I must have offended you dearly."

My jaw drops in horror. How could he? How could he joke about that? After what she did?

"I hereby vow to take any and all death threats at face value, unless you are, in fact, trying to flirt with me, in which case please threaten to bash my brains in while winking, like so."

And then-

She laughs. She actually laughs, not like she did before we came here but like she did before things got really bad. It's harder and has jagged edges, but it's a laugh.

"I've gotta tell you, when I heard what happened, I thought my father would be more upset, but do you know what he said to me? 'She should have seen it coming.'"

"That's terrible!" I hiss.

Fia laughs louder. "Someone taught me how to get in trouble around a Seer."

"And you are a star pupil. You surpassed even my record, which I used to be quite proud of. If we're still keeping score, this puts you firmly in the lead and I owe you this drink."

I slash my hand through the air. "Stop." Did he bring alcohol in here? That joke about the whiskey-is he making fun of me because I can't see that he's holding some? "You will not give her anything."

"Relax. I've come with ice-cold Coke. Not even as a mixer. Just as a drink."

"While we're talking about that night," Fia says, and her voice doesn't sound like it's coming from miles away. It sounds like she's here, now, in this room. "I seem to recall you saying you'd like to kiss me but you needed to get through a couple more drinks before you could let yourself. Have you had enough time to down them?"

James laughs; their laughs are a matching set. It makes me feel small and alone. Jealous. I'm jealous of James Keane. Why can he make her laugh like a real person? I've been taking care of her all this time and I was barely keeping her alive. He's one of them!

"I think," he says, "if I kept up my end of that promise, Annie here would take your place in bashing my brains out."

"I already called dibs on it. She would never dare." She's teasing him. She sounds like the old Fia. He swoops in here, talking about bashing in heads and drinking, and draws her out? Why would she come out for him but not for her own sister?

"Excellent. I'd hate for anyone else to have the honor. Now. Since I've got you here, I have a proposal."

"Too young to get married. Besides, Annie loathes you and everyone else would be too frightened to be my maid of honor. I have a bit of a reputation." She whispers "reputation" exaggeratedly. How can she flirt with him about this?

"Oh, that is a problem. In that case, I have a different proposal. How would you like to go on a vacation? Sort of a study abroad. I think you've been locked up in this school for too long. It isn't healthy, you know. Some would say it'll drive you crazy."

"When?" she asks, and her voice is breathless and hopeful. I'm drowning. I'm losing her, and I don't know how or why.

"How soon can you pack?"

She jumps up with a squeal and I hear her run out of the room. "Just the basics," James yells. "We can buy anything you need."

"What are you doing?" I hiss.

"What you can't." I hear him stand. He walks closer to me, puts a hand on my shoulder. "I'm going to make her better."

I shrug his hand off, glare up at his voice. "How? By making sick jokes about things no one should ever have to remember? And why do you want her 'better'? So you can use her again? You saw how well that turned out for the last person in charge here."

"Careful there, Annabelle. You can't pretend to not care about what Fia did. You've either got to really not care at all, or you've got to care. She knows you're somewhere in between, and her own guilt is already more than she can handle."

"Don't act like you know her! She's my sister!"

"In case you haven't noticed, you lost your claim to her as soon as you accepted the Keane Foundation's generosity. She's not yours. After your desperate call to my father, he decided to give me a bigger role in his work. She's my responsibility now. Don't worry. I take my responsibilities very seriously."

It can't be my fault that he's here. That's not what I wanted when I talked to his horrible father. "I won't let you have her."

"You don't have any choice." He sounds almost sorry when he says this. He is a liar.

"If you touch her-if you so much as touch her-" I am trembling with rage. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare ever forget how young she is or how broken she is."

His voice isn't sorry anymore. "How could I? And how could she, with such a kind sister to remind her that she is hopelessly broken."

"I'm ready!" Her voice is bright. I hear something thunk to the ground. Her bag.

I whip around. "Don't go! You can't go!"

"Aren't you coming?" she asks.

"I'm sorry," James says, and he walks away from me. Is he touching her? Is he touching her? "But my father would only agree to let me take you if Annie stayed here and kept up her studies. And she needs to be here in case they have a breakthrough for her eye treatments."

"Oh." There's a pause, and then her voice...oh, her voice is dead again, it's coming from somewhere so deep inside and far away I can barely tell it's hers. "I guess I'll stay then."

"No." I choke on the word, paste a smile on my face, glad I can't see what she looks like, wishing she couldn't see me, either. She'll know I'm lying. She always knows when I'm lying. So she knows I'm lying every time I tell her that what she did doesn't matter, that we're going to be okay, that we're going to get out of here eventually. Please, Fia, believe this lie. "You should go. You've earned a vacation. Just bring me back a present. Besides, I'll have Eden."

"Afraid not," James says. "She's coming, too."

Alone. He's stealing my sister and my only friend. I'm going to be here all alone. I force my smile even bigger. "Well, then they'll both owe me a present."

"Are you sure?" Fia asks.

I am not sure. I don't trust James. I think he's even more dangerous than his father because he is bright and handsome and funny. I'm trying to draw her out with love and hope, but this place kills those. His voice has those extra layers, that anger simmering under the surface. I know Fia connects to it. I know it draws her in and comforts her in a way I never can. If I let her walk out that door with him, I'm worried I'll never get her back.

But James was right. I lost her the minute I brought her here with me. And if he can salvage something of who she used to be, no matter what his game is, I have to let him. I won't waste this time. I'm going to figure out what, exactly, is going on here. Because if I understand the what, I can understand the why, and if I understand those I can figure out the way to get us both free to a better future.

"Have fun. I love you. Don't forget your promises." I jerk my head in James's direction. No kissing. No drinking. She'll remember. "And don't plan anything without me."

She runs and hugs me-she hasn't hugged me in so long, and she is too thin, and taller, and I don't recognize her body anymore but maybe, just maybe, her voice will come back-and then she is gone and I am alone.

Chapter Sixteen

FIA

Tuesday Morning

JAMES. (MY HEAD, MY HEAD, IT HURTS SO MUCH.)

James.

Where is James?

Where am I?

I open my eyelids; they are sticky and they don't want to open and they hurt and the light-

Stabs of pain. Nausea roils through me. I don't want to feel like this, I can't feel like this, I can't remember why I feel like this. If I feel like this, I can't tell if something is wrong.

James. Oh, no. James.

I force my eyes open. I'm in a room. Alone. No windows (no escape points, no glass to use as a weapon), no furniture (maybe they have heard of my reputation with furniture), just smooth white walls and hard, dark-gray industrial carpet. And a door.

I stand. My head swims and the room tilts and swirls around me, and Annie was right, she is always right-I should not have gone dancing, I should not have gotten drunk, I should not have kissed James.

James said he loves me. He was probably lying.

I do not regret kissing James.

If they have hurt James, I will kill them.

Kill them kill them-wait. Annie. If I'm gone, Annie's not safe. What if James is with me? What if he can't tell them that I was taken, that I didn't run? Oh, no, Annie. Annie!

The door is locked. I scream and smash my hand against the handle, then slam my shoulder into it. I careen off, the room still spinning, but I have to get out. I can't lose Annie because I wanted to dance and kiss James. How could I have been so stupid and selfish? Everything was already screwed up; we were already in trouble. I can't believe I did this. I did this. Again. How many times will Annie have to see her own death because of me?

And Adam. I picture him checking his email, frantically, never hearing from me. He'll give up on me. He'll go back to his old life, and they'll find him, and they'll kill him. I've failed Annie and I've failed Adam. I destroy anything that's good.

Door opens inward. Can't break through. If I kick the doorknob off (no shoes, I will break a few bones in my foot), they'll have to take down the door to get in. Lots of advance warning, and they can't keep the door shut again.

The hinges. I drop down and look at the bottom one. Simple straight metal pin down the center. I tug. It's painted shut. I can probably break the seal with my fingernails, but it'll take a while. I wish I had a tool. Something. Anything.

My fingers go to my hair, to the tiny bobby pin I tucked in last night to keep a twist of hair back from my face. I smile. I knew that was a good idea.

The top hinge pin will be a problem; I have nothing to stand on to reach that high. If I can get the bottom one out, I'll have options, though.

Break the doorknob, pull on the door to warp it, maybe make enough room to crawl out? It would take a lot time. If they're watching, they will know before I finish.

Stop! Stop planning. Just get the pin.

My fingers hurt and my head pounds and Annie, oh, Annie, I'm so sorry. How many ways can I fail you in one lifetime before it's too many, before I can't fix it? I sit back, lean my head against the wall, let myself cry. The weight of Annie's life pushes my shoulders down, wraps itself around me, sneaks into my heart and my lungs until I am suffocating.

I wipe under my eyes, wipe above them, try to get as much of the makeup off as I can. Try to look like a seventeen-year-old girl who is scared and alone and helpless.

Only one of those is a lie.

I get the pin out just as I hear the click of the lock on the other side of the door, then the slide of a dead bolt (dead bolt, glad I didn't try to kick in the doorknob). Rush or play dead? Rush or play dead?

I hide the hinge pin in my fist and scramble backward into the corner. They'll be most ready, most wary when they open the door. I'll have another chance. I curl into a ball, hug my bare legs to my chest. I'm glad I was crying, it will add to the look.

I stare up with my big, innocent eyes (they don't know about my hands; my eyes are my best liars). The door opens.

It's the girl, the one with brown hair whose car I stole. And behind her the man with the stubble. Cole. So much for feigning helplessness. I stand, keeping my hands fisted. They both walk into the room; neither has weapons. That was smart of them. Too bad. Cole has a slight limp (I wonder where my knife went; I liked that knife).