The walk to my locker feels extra long, either from the pain in my foot or the general unease that makes my skin itch. I feel disconnected to everyone around me, to what just happened in the parking lot, to the series of terrifying events over the last couple days that have somehow become my life. It isn’t until I get to my locker that I pinpoint exactly why I feel so uneasy.

The girl with the black cropped hair and the army jacket is the same girl I saw in the Swarm five days ago—right before I jumped off Navy Pier.

Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

The blood drains from my face. The hallway chaos of students brushing past each other, shouting to friends, opening and closing locker doors fades into background noise. Someone from the Swarm is at my school.

And she knows I’m here.

I stand at my locker, spinning the dial as the white numbers blur together. I can’t remember my combination. What if that girl is here to kill me? Last night’s package wasn’t a warning. It was a way to torture my final days.

I don’t know where to go, where to hide—whether to stay at school or run for it. I picture her at the pier. She was wearing sunglasses, a stocking cap. Black hair stuck out beneath it. And the way she’d stood, clutching her bag—she had the same posture today. It was undeniably her.

“I just saw a news reel of you and Cullen Henking walking with his arm around you. I almost threw up my smoothie.”

I recognize Adam’s voice as he approaches, but I can’t bring myself to look at him.

He notices my near-catatonic state and drops the sarcasm. “What are you doing?”

I can’t respond.

“Lia?”

Adam grabs the lock from my hands, spins the combination, and opens the locker. He eases my backpack off my shoulders and starts stacking the books I need for first period.

“There are worse things than being Cullen Henking’s girlfriend, I’m sure. Nothing comes to mind, but don’t worry, we’ll fix it.”

“I saw someone,” I whisper, “from the Swarm.” My head and body feel light, like a buoy swaying in water, anchored by my feet.

“Here?” His voice is urgent. He grabs my arm. “Let’s get you out.” He swipes my bag and tugs me toward the hall, but my feet stay planted. I can’t shake the image of Cropped Hair Girl during the attack. She’d stood along the outskirts of the fight, her distress palpable.

Katie walks up, clutching her sketchbook. “What’s going on?”

Her words barely register. I can’t shake Cropped Hair Girl’s reaction to seeing Cullen and me in the car. The second she saw me, she rushed off like she was uncomfortable in her own skin.