I shook my head and turned to where Mr. Cromwell waited, a patient expression on his face.

“We can talk in the kitchen,” he said. “I’m sure you must be hungry.”

Before I could pull myself away from the room, I heard Olivia speak. “Mommy?”

I stopped. My heart fluttered in my chest. I just wanted to hear her voice, that’s all. Then: “Yes, baby?”

“Why don’t you talk to Emmie? It makes her sad.”

There was a moment of silence. “Baby,” Mom said softly, “I can’t talk to her. Ember’s in heaven with Daddy.”

* * *

We sat in the type of kitchen my mom would’ve given her firstborn child to have before she had lost her mind.

“Your mother is very ill, Ember. Possibly one day her memories will resurface.” Cromwell frowned. “It must be hard for you to have your own mother believe that you’re dead.”

I rolled a can of soda between my palms. It felt weird to be around people and not have my gloves on. Untouched plates of cold cuts and cookies sat between us.

“How have you managed to take care of her and your sister? You were only fifteen at the time of the accident.”

My irritation level rose, as did my suspicions. “How do you know about the accident?”

Cromwell smiled. “We know a lot of things, Ember.”

My appetite dried and shriveled up. “How do you know so much? Why am I here? And where is here, anyway?”

His blue eyes seemed to shine in the bright kitchen. “You’re in Petersburg, West Virginia.”

A hysterical laugh bubbled up and broke free. “Where? I’ve never even heard of Peterstown or whatever.”

“Petersburg,” he corrected. “Not many outside of this state would. We are at the base of Seneca Rocks.”

I stared blankly. Was I supposed to know what that meant?

His expression was one of parental patience, but it was off somehow—wrong even. “You’re remarkably calm.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m freaking out inside.” I glanced up and met his eyes.

“Maybe I should start at the beginning.” He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. “I think that would help you understand there is nothing to fear.”

I seriously doubted that.

“There are two kinds of people in this world, Ember. There are ones who are mundane, ordinary. Those people are like outsiders to us.”

“To us?” I said, wanting to laugh again.

The patient look didn’t fade. “Yes. You’re different. Just like your sister.”

Lying was like second nature. I didn’t even think about it. “There’s nothing different about Olivia.”

“Ember, you and I both know better than that. Like I said, there are two kinds of people in this world: outsiders and the gifted. You and your sister are far from normal.” Mr. Cromwell leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “Look at what happened to that boy. He died from simply touching you.”

Ice coated my insides. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. A rush of cold air went down my spine.