closed the door behind me and climbed the stairs to my tiny room in the loft. The twin bed was squished up next to a shabby pine chest of drawers. Stark wooden beams crisscrossed overhead, and a real fur rug took up most of the bare floor. Every time my bare feet touched the soft hair, I couldn’t help but wonder how the animal had died. Had the animal known it was being hunted, and run for its life? Or had the hunter startled it? Caught it by surprise?
I hopped onto the bed, vowing to shove the rug in the closet come morning. We’d been here for over a week, and while the respite was desperately needed, I knew from experience just how quickly the peace and calm here could vanish.
Images flickered behind my eyes, remnants of the last scene I remembered from Quinn’s.
The examination table.
Quinn’s auburn hair flashing as she readied her instruments.
Me, feeling utterly overwhelmed. Agreeing to allow her to hack into my programming and alter my emotions.
And then, emptiness. No matter how many times I replayed my memory, the time period between this moment and the desert was a total blank. I didn’t know what concerned me more—the dark, missing hours in my past or the dark possibilities awaiting me in the future?
I shivered and wrapped the blanket more tightly around me, hoping that Lucas would go back into his room after dinner and finish the program that might restore the lost data. Visions of Hunter flashed through my head again, and even though I tried to convince myself that he was fine—his parents were with him, after all—the chill refused to fade.
God, I missed him.
I curled into a ball to warm myself, even though I knew the attempt would fail.
My chills, they didn’t originate from the environment.
My chills came from fear.
“Mila? You up and about in there?”
Lucas’s soft rap at the door early the next morning was accompanied by a whisper.
“No. I went to Disneyland. I’ll be back tomorrow,” I whispered back.
The door creaked open, and Lucas’s face popped into the crack. His clothing and hair looked tousled, like he’d just rolled out of bed, but that was pretty much how he always looked. Shadows under his eyes hinted at a late night, but his wide smile looked excited.
“Sorry it’s so early, but I wanted to do this while Tim was outside, messing around with that broken trap.”
He patted his pocket and bounced lightly on his feet. “Can you come to my room?”
I followed him downstairs and through the narrow doorway to his cramped living space. Three empty cups, a crumpled bag of pretzels, and a discarded plate perched on top of his computer tower. A glance at his bed showed the comforter was still folded, and his charger remained discarded on his pillow, in the same spot as last night.
Someone had pulled an all-nighter.
Lucas motioned me into the desk chair. I settled on the edge and stared up at him, daring to hope. Did all that excitement mean he’d come through on the data-restoring program?
He fiddled with whatever was in his pocket again, noted my curiosity, and removed his hand. “Oh, that’s for in a few minutes. But first . . . let’s jump-start that memory of yours.”
He extended a cord to me, complete with a USB port at one end. “My memory?” I breathed.
“No guarantees it’s going to work right away,” Lucas cautioned, watching my face fall. “But if it doesn’t, I think it will only take a few tweaks, at most.”
A phantom pain twinged in my neck, just under my ear, as if I could still feel the burn from the last time I’d plugged in. I stared at the cord, but instead of reaching for it, my hands fisted.
Lucas noted the small motion. “This one shouldn’t hurt,” he said softly.
“And what about . . . that?” I nodded down toward my stomach. “Is there any chance new programming could set it off or something?”
“No, this software is localized. It will only affect your peripheral neurological area, not your central nervous system,” he explained. He didn’t rush me, though, or try to force the cord into my hand. Instead, he waited. Patient as always.
Eventually, my fingers curled around the metal end as I willed my frantic pulse to subside.
It would be okay. Whatever Quinn had erased. I could handle it.
Drawing strength from Lucas’s steady presence, I gathered my courage. I used my free hand to push aside the skin just under my ear