“It’s nice.”

“Strange,” Hayden moved past me, toward the bed.

My heart flip-flopped. “What?”

“Someone’s been here.” He stopped at the bed, frowning.

I didn’t know what he’d seen that gave it away, but whatever. “Do you think someone will find us here?”

He glanced up. “No. Parker’s the only one who ever really comes down here. Cabins aren’t Phoebe’s thing.”

“What about Gabe?”

“No television means no Gabe.” His eyes met mine. Midnight had nothing on them; they were that dark.

I bit my lip. “So what do you have in mind?”

His eyes still held mine. “I have a lot of things in mind.”

All the air left my lungs. I felt dizzy. “Really?”

A wolfish grin flashed across his striking face before he turned and grabbed a potted plant. “Training, Ember. Grab a seat.”

Feeling like an idiot, I opted for the couch while Hayden grabbed a wooden chair from the small table and placed it in front of me. Then he sat down, knees pressed again mine, plant in his lap.

“Take off the gloves.”

I didn’t want to, but I did. Taking a deep breath, I laid them next to me. “What do you expect me to do?”

“Just touch it.”

Leaning back, I met his dark gaze. “Why?”

“Are you going to give me a hard time?” He sighed. “Ember, if we have any hope of getting this to work, you have to do what I say.”

“You hope this is going to work. Not me. I deal in reality.”

Hayden arched a brow. “Ember, you don’t even know what reality is. You know nothing about gifts.”

I rolled my eyes, but didn’t say anything.

He looked sort of smug.

“Fine, then educate me. How are you the way you are—what makes you gifted?”

Hayden slid his palms over the ceramic pot. “A normal person uses only a small portion of the brain at any given time. We use all of our brain at once. Hook any of us up to an MRI machine when we are using our gifts, and it’s like the Fourth of July. It’s not the best evidence, but it’s all they’ve ever been able to find. It’s the only thing different between us and outsiders.”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

The look on his face grew distant and cold—shuttered. “The Facility has searched for years to find out why we’re gifted. So has my father, and even though the twins are both gifted, Cromwell has said it isn’t typically hereditary.”

Because if it was hereditary, then Cromwell wouldn’t need to intervene with parents as often. My stomach twisted.

“Any more questions? If not, I’d like to see what we can get done tonight.”

“Sure. Let’s do this.”

“Touch the plant, Ember.”

I wasn’t sure what the purpose of this was, but oh, well. I brushed my fingertips across the velvety leaf.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the leaf shuddered. The outer ridges curled inward as the vibrant green faded to a dull, crispy brown. Death flowed through the rest of the plant, and within seconds, nothing was left but a dried-up stem hanging limply to the side.