“You mean since you ran into the cave and killed the vampire.” He gives me a suspicious look. “I guess I’m just having a hard time believing you did it all by yourself.”

I toss a pillow on top of the blanket. “Who else would’ve helped me? And why does it matter?”

“Not who. What.” He presses his lips together and pokes the blanket with the tip of his boot.

It takes me a second, but I get it. “You think I took the medicine, don’t you? You think I decided to turn and I’m a Day Taker now.”

He runs his hands through his hair tensely. “I just find it odd that you killed a vampire, when you were losing your strength.”

“Well I didn’t take it,” I say. “I’m human. And I killed the vampire all by myself.”

He meets my eyes. “How do I know that’s the truth, Juniper?  You lie all the time.”

“So do you.” But I take his hand, not very gently, and place it over my beating heart. “See, still human.”

His hand presses down, quivering against the drum of my heart. “I’m sorry,” he says, pulling his hand away and flexing it. “I just didn’t know what to think.”

“I think we both have some lying issues to get over,” I say, thinking how strange it is that we both share the same trait.

“The truth?” He asks with an arc of his eyebrow. “From now on?”

I let out long sigh. “Haven’t we said that before?”

He smiles, pulling me into his chest. “This way you can tell for sure.” Then he tips my chin back and touches his lips to mine and I can feel all honesty passionately pumping through him.

“I think we should make that a ritual from now on,” he says with a grin after we break away. “To make sure we’re being honest with each other.”

“But it only works one way,” I frown, but secretly I’m glad.

He taps at my wrist—the numberless one—the one that isn’t wrapped with a torn piece of his shirt. “I know how to tell if you’re lying.” Then he winks as me.

I smile, but it still feels like plastic, like something’s missing.

Later that night, while everyone’s fast asleep, I lie awake, staring at the crushed vial. The lanterns spill just enough light that I can see how empty it is.  I think about how there might be a cure, and ponder if it’s hidden in a vial just like this, knowing that the answer lies somewhere inside my head.