Kira nodded and dug into another filing cabinet. “One of these records is a report from a corporate investigator; apparently some of the members of the Trust had been giving themselves Partial gene mods. The company leaders flipped out when they found out about it.”

“Partial gene mods?” asked Samm. “What does that even mean?”

“Before they got into the business of biosynthetic organisms,” said Kira, “ParaGen got its start in biotech, making genetic modifications for humans—they’d fix congenital defects, improve people’s strength and reflexes, even do cosmetic mods like breast augmentation. By the Break, nearly every person born in a hospital in America had some sort of genetic modification customs built by ParaGen or another biotech firm. This report doesn’t go into detail, but it specifically says ‘Partial gene mods.’ I think some of the members of the Trust were using the same technology they made for you—us—on themselves.”

“They gave themselves the link and then used it to control us,” said Heron. Her voice dripped with venom.

“So they made themselves into . . . half-Partials,” said Samm. He didn’t show it as obviously, but Kira could tell he was just as disturbed as Heron was, though maybe not so angry. He paused, then looked at Kira. “Do you think maybe that’s what you are?”

“I thought the same thing,” she answered, “but there’s no way to know for sure without a closer look at the bioscan Morgan took of me. Every doctor in the room seemed pretty certain I was a Partial, though, not just a hybrid. They spoke of Partial-specific codes written on my DNA. But I’m not ruling anything out.”

Heron looked back at the list. “So Morgan’s part of the Trust. So is your friend Nandita.” She looked up, staring at Kira, and Kira got the sudden sense that she was being analyzed—not by a scientist, but by a predator. She half expected Heron to pounce forward and take a bite from her neck.

Kira looked down, too uncomfortable to hold the girl’s gaze. “Nandita left me a message,” she said. She fished the photo from her backpack pocket and handed it to Samm. “I found this in my house three months ago; it’s the reason I left. That’s Nandita, that’s my father, Armin Dhurvasula, and that’s me in the middle. Kira . . . Dhurvasula.” It still felt strange to say it. For all she knew, it might not even be her name. She’d never been officially adopted, as far as she could guess, because all the papers she’d read from the time period implied that Partials weren’t legally defined as people. She wouldn’t bear her father’s surname any more than a dog would, or a television.