Why did grownups always repeat things? “Yes. The Voice said it was okay. And I didn’t want Mother to worry. She and me, we’re already sad. That thing grabbed Father and took him away to eat him. People are dying. Everyone is scared. Sheena and me, we’re just trying to figure it out. It’s just got to be science.”

“Wait, easy. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you scared. I know you miss your father. I just need to know. We all do. Why did you kill Bill?”

He felt the welling tears. “I didn’t! I wasn’t there!”

Michaela’s gaze went vacant, which was when Felix realized someone was talking to her on her com. She shifted uneasily, cradling her broken arm in its sling.

She asked, “Does the Voice ever do other things? Things you don’t know it’s doing?”

Feeling better, he said, “Sure. It does all kinds of things.”

“Like what?”

He lifted his arm. Twisted his hand back and forth. “Like that. I can tell my hand, say, ‘Don’t move.’ And the Voice will make it move anyway. Or open doors and things. It’s like I’m me, but not me. Like I’m not driving my body. Pretty zambo.”

“Pretty zambo?” she whispered under her breath, gaze vacant as something was said into her ear com. “Felix, what do you think the Voice is? Where does it come from?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just there. In my head. It’s not really a voice. More of a feeling, I guess. Sort of there and not there, except when it’s moving me around.”

“And how long have you felt this ‘there and not there’ feeling?”

“Since science club? Maybe before. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

“Does the Voice ever tell you to do things you don’t want to?”

How did he answer that? “It kind of just does things.”

“Like with Bill?”

“I didn’t hurt Bill! I swear.”

Michaela’s worry-hard eyes seemed to bore into him. They were terrible eyes. Eyes that burned right through him. Made him squirm in the chair until tears started to well in his vision.

“I want my mother!”

“You’ll see her in a bit,” Michaela told him in that short, “I’m angry” adult voice.

“I didn’t do it! The Voice said it would be okay. I was in bed, and then I was there. Don’t you see?”

But Michaela stood, her face gone hard, cold.

“Yes, I see. I almost pray it’s TriNA instead of psychosis,” she muttered as she walked out of the room and closed the door.

As Felix wondered what psychosis was and stared at the door, he rubbed the sore places on the side of his throat. They had started to feel puffy now, as well as tender. On top of everything, they kept hurting worse and worse.