I dig my nails into the meat of my palm. Here it is. “How far?”

The woman smiles, this curling, catlike smile, like we already share a secret. “For you, Anders, there may be no limit.”

My heart is beating so hard, I feel its pulses in the tips of my fingers. This is it. This is it. This is it.

The woman spreads her hands. “We would love to work with you. I’m telling you that straight out. I would like to sign you here and now. So.” She pauses to smile at me again. “What do you think?”

This is where I should jump.

But instead, I feel my knees lock. Maybe Flynn was right. Maybe I’m looking down from the end of the diving board, letting fear stop me. Maybe I just need to know what I’m jumping into first.

“I think I need . . .” My voice sticks. I clear my throat. “I need a little time to think. Do some research. Talk to some people.”

“Of course.” The woman’s tone is perfectly polite, but her face looks the tiniest bit amused. “Do what you need to do. But if you’ll let me make our case . . .” She leans on the arm of the couch, angling closer to me. “You’ve got the magic combination right now. Youth. Energy. Incredible talent. Good looks.”

My cheeks are heating up. Goddamn it.

“You’ve got a growing following,” she goes on. “You’ve got building online interest. You’ve got everything. But we know how quickly these things can change.”

I clear my throat again. “Last Things is just getting started.”

“You’re adults,” she says. There’s a special little tang in the way she says the word. Adults. “You’re just a few weeks from graduating. And then what? Do you plan to stay here?”

Here describes everything at once. The shabby underground studio. This dying little town.

“No,” I blurt, a little louder than I’d meant to.

“I didn’t think so.” She gives a little laugh. I can hear the mockery in it, subtle, but there. “So the choice isn’t what. It’s when. It’s now, or it’s later. Which may be too late.” She sees me hesitate and leans even closer.

“Anders. You’re meant for this.” She slows her words so that each one has time to land. “Why would you deny yourself everything you’ve always wanted?”

My throat clamps.

Everything you’ve always wanted.

That was exactly what the guy in the woods had said. You’re going to get everything you want. Everything. It’s going to be something to see.

I fight to keep my hands from shaking. The woods. That night in the woods. I want to turn around and fly out of here. But something keeps me stuck to my seat.

The woman is still smiling at me. She reaches toward a black leather briefcase that’s tucked beside her on the couch. She pulls out a paper and a silver pen.

It might as well be a scalpel.