Intrigue lit his eyes. “Amazing.” For well over an hour, he played with the phone, asked questions about different websites, weapons and the “Terran military.” She answered to the best of her ability, wishing she could help Bane this way, too. Maybe he’d finally view her in a better light.

Her cell rang, and she jerked. An unknown number flashed over the screen, and she twittered with excitement. Could be Vale, could be a solicitor. Please be Vale, please be Vale.

Zion frowned and looked around. “What’s happening?”

“Someone’s using their phone to call mine.” She slid her finger over the screen and placed the device at her ear. “H-hello?”

“You’re alive.” Her sister’s voice whispered over the line, equal parts joy and relief.

Tears of joy welled. Not wanting to worry Vale, she attempted an upbeat greeting. “Vale, you gorgeous ballbreaker, you’re alive, too.” A sob escaped, ruining her efforts. “I’ve been so worried.”

“Nola,” Zion said with a frown. He collected a teardrop as if it were a fragile butterfly’s wing. “This call upsets you?”

“No, no. I’m happy.” Her sister was alive and well.

“Where are you?” Vale asked, still whispering. “How are you? Is Zion treating you well?”

“He is. He told me it’s better if I don’t know where we are, and I agree. He’s protecting me from a blond giant who hopes to abduct me, reasons unknown.” “Hoped,” not “hopes.” Past tense. She wanted to say more so, so badly, wanted to admit everything. But, of course, the words died on her tongue. “I’m surviving minute by minute, some tougher than others.”

Zion frowned again, his brow furrowed with the barest hint of irritation. No doubt he’d wished to glean more info about Bane. Well, too bad, so sad.

“Tell Zion to steal pills for you,” Vale said. “I don’t want you in pain.”

“He did. Got me a whole bucketful, in fact. I’ve taken one or two.” Or four. “I’m tempted to pop a couple more, but I’d rather get clean.” The desire solidified. Yes! She would get clean. No more pills, period. No more bargaining with herself, as she’d done every other time she’d tried to quit. No more promises to herself, only to break them.

Countless times, she’d tried tapering her dosage to lessen the severity of her withdrawal, cutting another five milligrams every week, but she’d always failed, making bargains with herself. If I take more now, I’ll take less later.

But she never took less, so the bargains never worked out in her favor.

“Enough about me,” she said. “How are you?”

“No changing the subject, sis. You know you can’t go cold turkey,” Vale said. “The strain on your heart—”

“Someone comes,” Zion interrupted.

Nola’s heart leaped. Maybe Bane—