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  “I’d like to show you a series of pictures,” she finally says. “And I want you to say the first word that pops into your mind.”

  I want to roll my eyes. I don’t.

  She holds up the first. A picture of my old neighborhood.

  “Past,” I say.

  She holds up a picture of a bird.

  “Spring.”

  Next is the photo of a train.

  “Travel.”

  And then she holds up one of the dance studio at Easton.

  “Home.”

  A picture of grass follows.

  “Itchy.” I’m allergic.

  Next, is a picture of a dog.

  “Pet.”

  Followed by one of Caius.

  “Boyfriend.” There’s no use hiding it. We’ve been public for a while now.

  A picture of Adalynn comes up next.

  I think, traitor, but I say, “Soccer.”

  The next photo is of Easton.

  “Education.” I can tell that I’m nailing my answers because she maintains a smug smile when she’s pleased with me. So far, so good.

  Then, she holds up a picture of Grandma’s old dance studio.

  I swallow my pain. “Pretty.”

  And then a picture of my mother follows.

  I don’t answer right away. I let her think that I’m contemplating my answer and then settling on, “Family.”

  She needs to be reassured that I’m loyal but that I’m hesitant to still consider them family.

  Thankfully, the picture that follows is of a modern office.

  “Future.”

  Followed by a picture of the ocean.

  “Wet.”

  And then finally, she holds up a picture of Trevor.

  “Traitor.”

  She nods, makes a few notes, and then excuses me after reminding me to stop off at Dr. Mangrove’s for my vitamin shot.

  I walk out figuring that I passed. Dr. Sara looked satisfied with my answers or at least she didn’t appear disappointed. My shoulders are tense, and my cheeks hurt from forcing a smile for so long but it’s too late to go back to the studio and work out my tension.

  I head to my dorm room. After a shower, I curl up on my bed and grab Clipper and my AllinOne. I hug Clipper to my chest while I tug at the corners of my AllinOne until the screen is full size. The message from Jax, the disappearing one, is gone.

  The birthday message from my mother sits there and it takes everything I have inside not to open it. I’m desperate to hear her voice again, to see her face. I stare at the icon, wishing it would somehow magically launch on its own.

  There’s a soft knock at the door. It startles me.

  I push off my bed and walk over. “Who is it?”

  The door handle jiggles, and I take a step back, my heart pounding. The door is locked, but that doesn’t mean anything. Administrators have the master key.

  I take a deep breath and a big step forward before opening the door a crack.

  The next thing I know, it’s forced open, and Rhys is pushing his way inside. I hook my right foot around the doorjamb as he tries to push me back. I anchor myself, thankful for all the long hours at the studio. My legs are strong, stronger than his arms.

  His hands dig into my shoulders, and he’s forcing me back. No way do I plan to be alone with him in my room. I twirl fast enough to break free from his grasp, and he takes a couple of steps. I make it into the hallway before he grabs my shirt and tugs me back a stride.

  I drop to the floor and spin, catching him off guard. I hear a rip in my shirt, but I don’t care. At least, I’m out of Rhys’s grasp.

  I scream bloody murder.

  “What are you doing here, Rhys?” I shout from the middle of the hallway. He scrambles outside of my room as a few doors open to find out what the heck is going on.

  “Nothing, Aldridge,” he shouts back. His breath is coming out in pulses, and his cheeks are flaming, I’m certain it’s a mix of embarrassment and exertion.

  A self-satisfied smile passes over my lips.

  “Why are you trying to get inside my room?” I don’t let up. If I give him an inch, he’ll destroy me.

  “I’m not. I don’t even care about you or your room,” he stammers before glancing at the small crowd gathering while he backs away from me.

  “What’s your problem?” He sneers at me before he stumbles back a few steps.

  My body is shaking, but I don’t give away how truly scared of him I am. The crowd is starting to disperse.

  “I don’t have one if you don’t,” I retort. Caius is going to fume when he hears about this.

  “Good. Because I only stopped by to find my friend,” he shoots back like he’s picked up on my thoughts.

  “I have every intention of telling him that you stopped by.” My hands are fisted and planted on my hips now. “He’ll be very interested to learn that you were here.”

  Rhys mumbles something unintelligible before he turns around…and runs right into my boyfriend’s chest. Rhys is knocked back a step after impact and Caius is beyond angry. Fire radiates from his gaze. He takes another step toward Rhys and shoves him.

  “Hey, man. I’m not trying to start anything here.” Rhys’s hands go up in surrender as a security drone rounds the corner.

  My biggest fear at this point is my boyfriend getting in trouble. It would be his word against Rhys’s and since Caius has been dating me, I’m worried it’ll hurt his credibility.

  “Get out of here,” I say to Rhys, moving in between him and my boyfriend. There’s no way I’m allowing him to get kicked out of school.

  Rhys isn’t stupid. Caius is bigger than him and stronger. He’s already scrambling to his feet, stumbling over his own shoes as he tries to get away in the opposite direction.

  “I thought we were friends,” Caius calls out to him.

  “We were,” comes the response from an out-of-breath Rhys. He rounds the corner, disappearing from view.

  So Rhys is here for summer school, too. Isn’t that a fan-freakin’-tastic development?

  “What did he do?” Caius’s eyes are wild.

  “He tried to get into my room.” I glance at him and then up at the security drone hovering. It has to be recording our conversation.

  Caius catches on when he gives me a look that the camera on the device won’t be able to pick up from its angle directly overhead.

  “Thank you for stepping in to help,” I say awkwardly.

  And then he pulls me into his arms. I’m still trembling but I can’t afford to fall apart.

  “I’ll be over in a few minutes,” he says so quietly into my ear that I barely hear him.

  He makes a big production of stepping back. The hall is almost empty now. The drone did a good job of clearing out the last of the curiosity seekers.

  “See you in the morning.”

  “Okay,” is all I can manage to say. My heart’s still a jackhammer against my ribs. I duck inside my room and immediately lock the door.

  Within seconds, someone’s pounding on my door.

  “Miss Aldridge.” I recognize the voice as Lieutenant McAvoy’s. Great. He’s one of the last people I’m in the mood to talk to after my run-in with Rhys.

  I open the door wide.

  “Yes,” I say, half expecting him to walk in.

  He has a device in his hands and he’s thumbing something using the small keyboard.

  “What is that for?”

  “I’m filing an incident report.” He glances up to gauge my reaction.

  “Rhys tried to,” I begin but he shoots me a look that says he’s not interested in hearing my version of the story, the truth. Right. Rhys is Legacy. At least with Caius involved they can’t deny something happened. I shut my mouth and wait for the first question.

/>   I pray that Caius hears and doesn’t decide to show up at the wrong time. McAvoy will want to question him, too, if he hasn’t already sent someone.

  The lieutenant’s gaze is disapproving. He hesitates like he’s about to say something but reconsiders. Then comes, “Tell me, in your own words, why you provoked a fight with Mr. Bilker.”

  “I didn’t—”

  He shoots me that look again. The one that warns me.

  “Look. I understand that what I’m about to say might make Administration…” I search for the right word, “frown at me. However, I didn’t do anything to provoke Rhys.”

  “According to Mr. Bilker, he stopped by to see if you had a class with him when you made a move to strike him.”

  I blow out a breath and look him straight in the eyes. “If you count trying to push his way into my room as a friendly welcome then you need to re-examine your criteria.” I point to the rip in my shirt.

  “It won’t do any good for you to lie, Miss Aldridge,” Lieutenant McAvoy says. “We have recordings of your activities.”

  The drone.

  “It got here too late to see what he did to start the fight,” I snap. I shouldn’t lose my temper with McAvoy. It’s a stupid mistake. But I’m furious that I’m about to be blamed for Rhys being a jerk. “I didn’t ask for this…for any of this. So, if Administration wants to kick me out, tell them to go ahead.”

  My temper’s getting the best of me and I can’t stop myself.

  “I understand you’ve been under duress lately,” the lieutenant says calmly, too calmly. I want to punch him in the face.

  I cluck my tongue.

  He catches my stare and lets me know that he has no plans to back away with his stone face.

  “I’m clear as a bell at what Rhys was trying to do. I didn’t start a fight with him. In fact, I didn’t even realize he was here until he showed up at my door and tried to force his way inside. Now, I’m no expert but if news got out that a Legacy was trying to say…force a classmate to do what he wanted that wouldn’t be good for the school’s image.” Rhys isn’t that hard to figure out. I threaten the establishment he and his family sit on top of. Dating one of them has made me an even bigger target.

  Lieutenant McAvoy holds a hand up. “Hold on. No one said anything about escalating this…disagreement. As far as I’m concerned, it’s over. But when something happens in my dorm, I want you and everyone else to know that I’m responsible. And I take that very seriously.”

  I straighten my shoulders. “Duly noted. Now, if we’re done here, I’d like to go back inside.”

  He stands there for a minute. Something flickers behind his eyes. He knows that I just dared him to keep arguing. I’d already threatened him. His glare tells me that he’s not thrilled with me.

  Seriously?

  Good. Because I’m not so happy with him, either.

  “We’re done for now.” He emphasized those last words. He wasn’t making a promise. It was a threat.

  My life is spinning out of control fast and I have no idea how to stop it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I lock the door behind me, and then bolt to the closet to see if Caius is there, waiting. He’s not. He should be here by now. I start to pace and twist my fingers together in a braided knot. I’m afraid something has happened to him.

  Plopping onto my bed, I grab my AllinOne. It’s still open from earlier so I stare at the screen, hoping for a new message.

  Goose egg.

  Something’s wrong. I can feel it.

  Maybe I can find the way to Jax’s house on my own. How hard can it be? He’ll listen to me if I ask him to do something. Won’t he? After the way he treated me in the last few weeks before school was out, I can’t be too sure. I can always lie and say that I want to see my kitten. Surely, he still has her.

  I put on a dark T-shirt and dance warm-ups. They are the closest things I have to real clothes other than the few pieces my sponsors have given me. Glancing at Clipper, I take a deep breath and then move into the closet.

  Outside, there’s an enforcer at the entrance to our dorm. Finding out what happened to my family is a burning fire in my belly and I can’t give up or go back now.

  I climb out of the pipe and skim in the opposite direction of the dance studio, of the sentry. My back is flat against the wall and the brick catches the cotton fabric of my shirt. I tug it away, figuring I’ll circle around the back of the building and slip into the trees.

  From there, I wind my way to the towering oak. I wish Caius was here and I’m worried about what might’ve happened to him. Every noise puts me on edge. But I keep going. If the council has their way, I’ll never find out what happened to my family. I still don’t believe what they say about my brother is true. He would never hurt anyone. I’m certain of that.

  With his tech skills, Jax is my best chance to find out the truth. Sending a message through our AllinOnes is too risky. The message would leave a trail.

  Caius told me where Jax lived before. I made him describe his house and what it was like to be outside of school property. I can find it. There’s no way to contact him without drawing attention, except to sneak out and go to his house. He’s in trouble. He’s dropping a hint. There has to be a better way to communicate. I don’t know how to make messages pop up and disappear like he does. And I want to see my friend.

  The night air is warm, humid, still. There’s nothing to mask my footsteps. I walk as lightly as I can. By the time I make it to the tree line, a thin sheen of sweat is already forming on my brow, a mix of nerves and humidity.

  There’s so much rolling around in my head by the time I climb the oak. My heart is thrumming against my ribs. I turn at every chirp.

  Part of me wishes that I’d run into my boyfriend, that he’d be waiting for me on the hill. I hop down and lose my balance, rolling halfway down the hill until I can stick my leg out to stop me. Grass is everywhere. In my hair, my eyes, and all over my clothes. I’m thankful that the ground isn’t wet.

  Caius isn’t there.

  I crest the hill and look down. Icy fingers close around my spine at the thought of running through the cemetery alone. It’s beautiful in a weird way. But also creepy when I think about the fact that so many dead people are inside that gate. I scale the fence and my warm-up catches on the hook at the top, ripping a chunk of cloth. I fall on my backside. The fleeting thought that I should run back the other way disappears, and I push up to my feet.

  I block out the images rolling through my head, the one where a dead person’s hand pushes out of a grave and grabs my ankle is harder to forget.

  By the time I reach the other side, my nerves are on edge. I’m at the main entrance now and once I take a few steps out the other side, I have no idea what I’m going to find. If it’s unsafe in any way or someone’s watching Jax’s house, I’ll bolt.

  He’s Legacy but his family isn’t as well off as Caius’s. I imagine that my boyfriend lives in an estate similar to the Chaffee’s place. Jax’s house is large and it sure doesn’t look like his family is hurting for anything, but it’s not as grand as an estate home. He lives on a tree-lined street filled with two-story colonials. His street is all white siding, black shutters, and columns. There are only two classes of people in Maine; wealthy and poor. The only diversity is how wealthy. Our life in Chicago was the same. Is it like this in every country?

  I’m standing in the very back of Jax’s yard trying to remember if he has a dog. I don’t recall him saying anything about one before and I would remember something like that. I have no idea which room is his bedroom and I’m terrified to get closer. But then I didn’t come all the way here to go back empty-handed.

  From the windows, the kitchen is in the back of the house and takes up three-quarters of the right-hand side. There’s a formal dining room to the left. It connects to a formal living room as I walk the peri
meter. Jax’s mother bounds down the stairs. She’s looking down, distracted by a spot on the floor. But then, she’s not expecting someone to be staring at her from outside. I feel like a creep, slinking around in the middle of the night.

  Jax’s mother turns, her back is toward me, and I exhale. A hand covers my mouth, suppressing my scream.

  “It’s me.” Jax’s familiar voice whispers in my ear. I can barely hear him over the sound of my own heartbeat, which is like a mallet tenderizing my rib cage.

  I force calm over me that I don’t feel as I drop-spin out of his grip. Thanks to Rhys, I’ve gotten pretty good at defensive maneuvers. That, and the fact that I grew up with a brother who treated me like an equal and not some fragile doll.

  “Don’t yell.” He glances around, and it quickly becomes evident that he’s not only worried about his family finding me.

  I hear drone noise in the background.

  “Get inside.” We slip inside the house using the back door and he leads me up a back staircase to his room. He turns on his closet light and cracks the door. He’d already closed his bedroom door and placed a rolled-up shirt at the bottom so no light can leak into the hallway. Jax is paranoid.

  He motions for me to sit near the window. It’s the farthest place from the door.

  “What’s going on?” I whisper as he hands me Chelsea. I snuggle the kitten up to my face. She’s unbelievably soft, and her fur tickles my cheek.

  “They have surveillance drones on my house.” He takes a seat directly across from me. Our knees are practically touching. I don’t move back.

  “Who?” What would anyone want with him? He’s Legacy and a good student. Sure, he gets into trouble, but it’s summer break.

  “The school. The council. I’m not sure. Someone’s been keeping an eye on me ever since”—his eyes flash at me—“your birthday.”

  “When you tried to give me that note?” I stare at him, waiting for an answer.

  I think he’s going to tell me more, but he looks away. There’s so much anguish in his expression I don’t push for an explanation.