“I can see how you would believe I was the target,” he says slowly after I finish. “Charlie is my de facto uncle. But I’m not going to invent that virus. He tried to mentor me years ago, but I refused. The truth is, as much as I love him, I’ve always found Charlie to be…unstable.

“When he asked me to pick up the papers, he wanted me to hold on to them. There will come a time, he said, when someone comes looking for his research. And I’ll know to turn over his papers then.”

“I read the letter with his instructions,” I confess. “It was addressed to Chubbs, which is your nickname. That was one more mark against you.”

“Oh,” Bandit says, startled. “That’s a generic nickname. In the Thai culture, ouan can be used as a term of endearment. Charlie loved this, so he adopted the English counterpart and calls everyone close to him Chubbs.”

Oh. I didn’t know that. Lalana probably could’ve told me, if we were still speaking. But we’re not.

How many other things am I wrong about?

I look at Bandit, at the tips of his hair made even bluer in the sunlight. At his arched eyebrows that are both superior and adorable.

I now know why killing him felt so wrong. My mind was confused, my heart burdened. But I never felt the unshakable truth of his guilt in my soul.

“I know you’re not the Virus Maker.” Each word slices and scrapes its way out of my throat. Because if Bandit’s not the inventor, then someone else has to be. Someone who might be…my brother. “The Voice wouldn’t have had to resort to tricks if you were the true target.”

Twin waves of panic and sorrow crest inside me, threatening to sweep me under. I shove every last drop behind my resolve. “I need to figure out why the Voice lied to me. Maybe then I’ll discover who I’m really supposed to kill,” I say, a thousand times more calmly than I feel.

“How are you going to do that?” He tries valiantly to erect his bored face once again. But it doesn’t stand a chance against the interest gleaming in his eyes.

“With your help, I hope. I need to travel to the future, and I need Cristela to send me there.” I twist my hands. I’m taking a risk that Cristela’s not the Maker. But from my assessment, she’s the least likely to be guilty. Besides, she’s the only one with the expertise to push me forward in time. “I gave her my contact information, but I didn’t think to get hers. The two of you are friends, right? Can you tell me where she lives?”