things she wanted to do were building inside her, all mingling with feelings and hopes she just didn’t understand.
Her eyes pricked and she pressed her lips tight, looking away and staring at the wall, pulling herself together while she felt like she was falling apart. She wasn’t a child to cry for things she couldn’t have.
She was a grown woman with an important role to play.
Outside the cell, the footsteps had faded to nothing. The men had gone. She didn’t want Milo to leave, but he must have noticed the silence as well. He pushed himself to his feet, then took the couple of steps to the door and peered out.
“They’ve gone.”
She had an urge to beg him to stay just a little while longer. To talk to her—tell her about the world. The old one and the new one. At least she could experience things secondhand. All she knew was she didn’t want him to go. Didn’t want to be alone.
“Don’t go.”
He turned to face her, his expression serious. “I have to leave, but you don’t have to stay. No one has the right to lock you up like a prisoner and tell you some bullshit about protecting you.” He shook his head. “The door is unlocked.”
She could be free. All she had to do was step out. “I should go with you?”
“Not with me.”
“Why?” She frowned, and he stared at her for a moment before answering, the hard lines of his face softening a little.
“You wouldn’t like it with me. I’m not good company, and I work alone.”
“Oh.” She thought for a moment. “Alone we are nothing. We have to work together for the greater good.” That’s what Dr. Yang had always told her.
“More bullshit. You might have to. Not me.” He glanced at the door again and back to her. “You should really think about leaving.”
For a brief moment, she considered the idea, but where would she go? And besides, she didn’t want to disappoint Dr. Yang. “I can’t. But you could stay. For a little while longer? I don’t like being alone.”
He shook his head, then took a step closer. “I’ve never met anyone like you. And I’ve met a hell of a lot of people.”
She hadn’t realized how big he was until he was right in front of her, looking down. She peered up at him, mesmerized by his eyes. Reaching out, he rested his hand against her shoulder, and heat seeped through her clothes and into her skin, warmth singing through her body. She swayed toward him, her lashes fluttering closed—
Then something buzzed.
What? Her eyes blinked open.
The noise was coming from the machine on his wrist. He glanced down, then stepped back, his hand falling to his side. He looked at her and turned away, spoke quietly into the machine and then listened. When he turned back, she knew he was leaving. His expression was rueful.
“I have to go.”
“I know.”
“Look, just…” He ran a hand through his short hair and frowned. “Just don’t believe everything you’re told.”
“Why not?”
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Because people lie. All the time. To get what they want. I doubt your Dr. Yang is any different. You should get out of here.”
“I can’t,” she said, even though she wanted to. She wanted to get out and stay out this time. But what she wanted didn’t matter. “I have my duty.”
He snorted and turned away, crossed to the door, but paused and glanced back at her. “Take care of yourself, Destiny.”
Then he was gone.
Chapter Eight
“We are always in a hurry to be happy… for when we have suffered a long time, we have great difficulty in believing in good fortune.”
—Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
The door was pushed open from the outside and Destiny jerked upright.
“Why isn’t this door locked?” Dr. Yang’s sharp voice came from the corridor, and Destiny’s shoulders slumped.
Had she really thought Milo had come back? Why would he? He said he liked being alone. But then he probably hadn’t spent 95 percent of his life in his own company.
Dr. Yang was talking to someone on the other side of the door now, but Destiny couldn’t catch all the words—something about the lock being broken.
“Well, get it fixed,” Dr. Yang snapped. “Now.”
She hadn’t slept since Milo had left. Instead, she’d sat staring at the door, knowing it was unlocked and she could step outside at any time. The idea had made her almost light-headed. But as the hours trickled by, she hadn’t approached the door. Hadn’t