Nothing, I want to tell him, but the pain and the images from deep inside begin to snake their way up to the forefront of my thoughts. The crowd so thick that people brushed against each other as they moved. And then the Initiators. Five guys—massive, destructive, led by Lip Spikes—sliced the crowd in two. Scattered blue orbs punctured the mass like firecrackers as dozens of teenagers seemed to emerge out of nowhere. Energized to fight, they pivoted and spun toward the same direction like some choreographed dance. How had I missed them? They all fit the profile. They all wore hats, glasses, scarves, and gloves to conceal their identities. And somehow, they remained camouflaged among the tourists. I didn’t see them until the attack broke out.

“They came out of nowhere.” The words are tight. I can barely get them out. “I was trapped.”

After the first hit, screaming erupted. The pier became frenzied chaos as everyone began running, trying to escape. Except me. My feet didn’t work.

“I jumped into the water.”

I picture the attackers. I hear them cackle as they beat a man clinging to his life in the middle of their pit.

“There was nothing else I could do,” I say, which isn’t true. I could have done more to help—caused a diversion, gone in after him. I stood forty feet away while he was beaten to death, and did nothing.

I should’ve prevented this. I knew about the attack before it happened—I should’ve tried harder. Tracked down Detective Irving. Forced him to listen to me. I was so focused on “tangible evidence” indicting my dad’s killers. Why didn’t I think more about the victim who could be dead already?

“I have to go.” Get out. Find a computer. Check the cloud. Everything will be there, and somehow it will redeem every stupid mistake I made today. I stand, but Richard holds out his hand.

“Do you remember any details, Lia? Faces? Anyone you could identify?”

Lip Spikes. Copperhead. The guy with the gray eyes. His face was the only one not covered. His expression was so serious right before I fell.

Dr. Marshall taps Richard on the shoulder. “I’m sure the police will question her thoroughly when she’s ready.”

“One more.” Richard’s phone buzzes. He drops it while trying to pull it from his pocket, grabs it, and gives it a quick glance before tucking it away. “Why were you on the pier, Lia?”