some kind of connection to your echo.”
I felt an odd flutter of hope. Could that be it? I had some strange bond with my echo, and she had caused all the strange things in my life? I wasn’t a freak. It wasn’t my fault. It was hers.
“What if she has some hold on you?” Liam asked. We’d stopped at the head of the long driveway down to Mrs. Popova’s, and he turned so that we were all facing each other. “If you’re connected to your echo, you’re connected to the Six-Wing.”
“It is worrying,” Abby said. “But listen. This is what I do, remember? Most of the time, I’m only there for the aftermath, when it’s too late to do anything. But this time, I can help. I’ll keep you both breathing, I promise.”
Liam scoffed slightly, but I could tell that he was relieved to hear it—and trying not to show that he was relieved. Oil and water, but I was glad that both of them were here. Glad not to be alone.
“We’ll get through this,” I said.
“If something happens to me, I’m sure Dr. Kapoor will cover it up for you,” Liam said wryly.
“Well, if I die, gather up all of my stuff and send it to Dr. Andrew Ashford,” Abby said. “He’s the only person left in the world who would care what happened to me.”
“I’d care,” I said.
The corner of her mouth twitched. “You’ve known me a day, Sophia Novak.”
“And I already like you better than anyone back home,” I said. “I’m not big on friends.”
“Aw. I like you too,” she said.
“Just to be clear,” Liam said, “I might be fake-dating you, but I don’t like you.”
“Oh, no. Totally hate your guts. Glad it’s mutual,” Abby responded, and they gave each other a fist bump. I rolled my eyes, and Abby laughed. “I should get back to my room. I still haven’t gone through that stuff from the LARC.”
“I’ll help. I’ve still got time before Dr. Kapoor needs me up at the Center,” I said. “Liam?”
“I’d better get back into my bed before Dr. Kapoor figures out I’m not in it.”
“Sweet dreams, sweetie,” Abby replied, and waggled her fingers at him. Then she hooked her arm through mine and pulled me off down the driveway. I twisted around to mouth sorry at him, but he just chuckled ruefully. Abby jostled me a little. “Be careful,” she said.
“What, with Liam?”
“Not just with Liam. With making friends. Especially with people like me.”
“And what kind of person are you?” I asked.
She was quiet a minute, like she couldn’t decide if it was a good idea to explain. When she did speak, her tone was serious, her words slow and careful. “I’m like you,” she said. “So focused on the prize I don’t care about the risk that it puts me in. Or puts other people in. We get killed. And we get people killed.”
“No one’s going to die because of me,” I said dismissively.
“Just be careful. Like I said.” She didn’t say anything more on the subject, but I couldn’t stop the words from looping in my mind, again and again. Echo and warning.
Inside, we ditched our boots and padded past Lily, who stood staring at the brewing coffeepot with furious intensity, and Kenny, sprawled on the couch in the living room with his phone on his chest and his eyes closed.
Abby had stowed the backpack of looted evidence under her bed. She set it on the bed and pulled out a stack of files, a bunch of loose papers, and a folded map. I grabbed the map.
It reminded me of the one I’d found in the specimen room—marks and dates around the area. But that one hadn’t been updated since the eighties. This one had dates up to last summer, and the dots had short phrases next to them as well as dates.
Oct. 17, 2015—cruise passenger reports cabin flooding, men screaming. No water found.
Nov. 3, 2014—crew member on fishing vessel reported lost at sea. Storm confirmed by weather service, likely unrelated.
There were no lines drawn on this one, but the dates on the map painted their own picture. The echo world’s impact was still spreading, year by year. Winter by winter, I realized, examining the dates more closely. The summer dates never exceeded the range of the previous winter. It was in the darkness that its influence grew. I turned my attention to the other papers. What had fallen into the category of “worth hiding”?
There was data on the terns—notes