ANOTHER TWENTY FEET down the hall, Karl veered into a room and lifted a hand to ward me off. For once, I obeyed. I’d had enough.

Then the room went dark and I remembered that there was no sense blocking my eyes. The vision began.

A man stood with his back to me as he bent over an open filing cabinet drawer.

“Right where I said they were.” He pulled out a folder. “I appreciate that you’re putting in some overtime for a change, but if you’re going to interrupt—”

The pftt of a silenced shot. The man fell back against the cabinet. I saw his face then. William. The folder fluttered from his hand as he stared, incredulous, at his shooter.

His mouth opened, but a second shot sent him reeling. He crumpled against the filing cabinet, then slid to the floor.

When the vision ended, I didn’t jolt out of it. It just…stopped. And I just stopped. Like coming to the shocking end of a movie, sitting there, staring at the blank screen, unable to think, feel, move. Even the chaos vibes didn’t penetrate.

“Hope?”

Karl’s voice sounded miles away. I felt him grip my arms, as if through a thick winter coat.

“It’s been too much for her,” he said. “I need to get her out of here.”

His words floated past, disconnected, meaningless.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“The hell I’m not. Get out of my way.”

I recognized the rising chaos, but it was like pouring wine in front of my face—I could see it, smell it, know what it was, but it had no effect.

“Hope? Can you hear me? Can you walk, hon?”

“Hon? I should have guessed. A werewolf thief. She must love you. Just dripping with chaos.”

“Get out of my way.”

“You do know that’s all it is, don’t you? That’s all her kind care about. The chaos.”

“Get the fuck out of my—”

My eyes snapped open and I gasped, as if breaking free of icy water. “William? Is he—?”

“Yes, and we’re leaving.”

“No, I had a vision. I can help. I want to.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” Griffin said.

“One last time,” Karl said. “Get out—”

“Do you think Benicio Cortez won’t figure it out, Hope? You fooled him for a while, and nothing I could say would change his mind, but if my partner dies because—”

Karl made a move, as if to brush past Griffin, but he stepped into our path again, and I plucked at Karl’s sleeve, asking him to hold on.

“You think I shot Troy?” I said. “I was with Lucas and Paige, and if there’s a better alibi than that—”