Detective Irving wears a long tweed coat. His thick, dark mustache covers his lips, which appear to be smirking.

“He filed warrants earlier tonight for the arrest of five teenagers—Initiators, he called them. He thinks they were involved in your dad’s attack too.”

I fall back against the pillow and take in the gravity of what she’s saying. This is what I’ve been wanting for so long.

“Ted told me he used your live stream from the attack to identify them.”

I wonder if she saw the video, what she thought about it. I lace my fingers through hers and squeeze. Hard. My voice cracks, sounding thick and phlegmy. “Would Dad be happy?”

My mom pulls a tissue from the box near the bed. “Your father would be devastated knowing you’ve gone through any of this.”

She stares at me. Her makeup is smeared like she cried when I wasn’t looking. She doesn’t dab her face. Instead, she offers me the tissue. I take it and crumble it in my other hand. Then I lean against her shoulder while I watch the TV, trying to take comfort in knowing Richard is somewhere in handcuffs, and Lip Spikes might be soon.

“Do you think it’s over?” I ask.

She pauses before answering with conviction. “Yes.”

“The mayor might get away.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

I close my eyes.

The second I do, screaming accosts me. I’m flung over Cullen’s shoulder, crashing into hundreds of people packed together, fighting to escape. Somewhere Ryan is fighting for his life, but I’m suffocating in a sea of bodies.

Claustrophobia claws at my throat. I wrench my eyes open and gasp. Like I’m drowning, dying.

My mom cradles my head. She rakes her fingers through my hair and stays calm. She doesn’t freak out. Or ask me what’s wrong. She holds me. Waiting for me to realize it’s not real.

“I might not be able to fight it this time.” The visions. Hallucinations. They will break me after tonight. I’ll spend my days at Compass, surrounded by people faulty and wrecked like me. But even with their help, I don’t know how I could ever recover.