Understanding dawned, and his forehead wrinkled. “Are you sure it’s the same one?”

That pattern haunted me. I knew it as well as I knew the blackness coating the backs of my eyelids.

“It’s the same pattern. The initials—it’s a match for my mother’s handwriting.” I kept flipping the tag back and forth. “How does he know these things about me? About her and my family?”

“I’m not sure.” He reeled me into a tight hug and kissed my forehead. “None of this makes sense, but we’re going to get you those answers. I promise.”

Clutching the material in my fist, I gathered my nerves and pried myself out of his arms. “We should get moving.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He searched my face. “I can go on alone if you need a minute.”

“I’m going with you.” A fierce urge to protect him simmered in my middle. “I almost lost you too. I’m not risking it again.”

Pleased warmth suffused his expression before the weight of our circumstances snuffed his masculine enjoyment. With a somber nod, he set out for the remaining hallway, and I covered the rear. He paused in the entryway of yet another bedroomlike chamber, and his nostrils flared wide. “She’s in there.”

Dread pressed down on my shoulders, all the rock and water overhead crushing me while I stood there warring with myself. I wanted to see Harlow, and I was terrified of seeing her. I wanted her back, wanted her safe, but I wasn’t sure she could come back from what Charybdis might have done to her, and she would never feel safe again.

She was my friend, my responsibility, and I took point. I entered the room with Graeson at my back and pulled up short at what I saw.

Harlow perched on the edge of a rusted metal cot. Back straight, feet planted on the ground, she kept her hands linked in her lap. Her hair was a brighter shade than I remembered, more fuchsia than cotton candy. Her clothes were a flattering cut and trendy, her makeup flawless. She stared ahead at the wall opposite her, not acknowledging our arrival. I cut across the room until I stood in front of her, heeding Graeson’s quiet warning not to get too close. She blinked glassy eyes but didn’t move or speak.

Her vacant gaze reminded me so much of Ayer’s drugged indifference it broke my heart. That couldn’t be her future. She had to snap out of this.

“Harlow.” So much hope smashed into one word. “It’s me, Cam.” Movement at my shoulder prompted me to add, “And Graeson.”

The girl didn’t respond.