The jet hovered just above the roof of STPF’s headquarters in downtown Albuquerque. My vision was a blur as they shoved me out of the jet and hustled me inside. I didn’t notice anything except the gray concrete floor and the way my breath was whistling as it left my lungs. I slipped into counting my breaths, like Declan had taught me, to keep from glowing. So far, it was working, but I wasn’t sure what I’d do if it stopped. I still felt like I was floating through this nightmare. I was living it but also removed from it. Distanced. I wanted to poke at that feeling to make it go away, but I was sure if I did that, then this would feel too real, and then the glowing would start.

It didn’t take long for the STPF to get me booked into the system. My chip held up enough to give them access to my forged file, which didn’t immediately set off any alarms. The vidscreens on the walls streamed the streets outside. The faces were scanned as people walked by, and their records pulled up beside each face.

I watched those screens the whole time I was inside. I couldn’t look at the files they were making about me. I didn’t answer their questions. They didn’t really care what I would say. They had everything they needed on me. They’d proven that when they played video from the diner. I was still in the same uniform. Jason Murtagh’s blood was still on my face. I was guilty, and everyone knew it.

I’d been holding my breath, but once I was given wipes for my hands and face and ordered to strip down and change into the orange jumpsuit, I knew I was over the first big hurdle. They’d taken my contact lens and deactivated my chip but left it in my finger. It wasn’t sending out painful signals anymore and could be turned back on easily, but at least it’d done its job. From what the officer could tell, I was a normal, everyday, troublemaking Earther.

When were they going to scan me?

Maybe I was wrong about everything. Maybe Murtagh didn’t know shit about me, and he was just a pervy asshole after all. Maybe it was just bad luck that he’d come to my diner. Maybe they didn’t automatically scan people to see if they were Aunare like I thought.

I never wanted to be more wrong in my life as I sat in the booking room and prayed that I’d somehow avoided them finding out the truth about me.

Officer Perez—the female guard they assigned to my booking—had been surprisingly respectful. After a while, she told me to get up and follow her. She led me through a few locked doors, to the cell block.