Maybe she’d wanted him to be the one to tell Lambert the truth. But in the moment, he couldn’t do it. Because he’d started to wonder last night, when the cops started talking about surveillance cameras that might be able to aid the investigation, that maybe the device could … help?

Eden

EDEN

She sat on her bed, legs folded, with the device in front of her. The sound of gentle lapping ocean waves filled the air—her noise machine.

“Why are you cutting out Eli?”

He asks too many questions.

Right now he is texting me but I am not receiving.

How had Eli figured out that … Oh. Right. The device had texted them after Marwan had tried to abandon it. It hadn’t occurred to Eden to text back, though it was true she’d had answers to the question “Why did Marwan do that?”

Because he was scared.

Because we’re all scared.

All the time.

But no, she was just projecting.

“What’s wrong with texting you questions?”

It distracts me from my work.

“Which is?”

To do what I am supposed to do.

“Which is …?”

Learn to belong.

“But why did you say not to trust Eli? He’s just curious is all.”

His eagerness to understand what I am and where I come from may cause poor judgment.

“So that’s it? He’s out? Or can he do something to get back into your good graces or whatever?”

Contemplating.

“Marwan tried to ditch you in the park. Why not cut him out, too?”

Chose to use him as an example. A warning.

“Okay, then,” Eden said, and she picked up her phone, started to read the day’s headlines. Wildfires. Russia. A mudslide. A government agency going rogue on Twitter. She checked for new stories in her feed. Found a photo that Julian had posted with Becca Emigli.

Felt sick.

He wasn’t going to text her.

Ever.

Was he?

A burglary was in progress two avenues and five blocks away.

Talk to me.

Eden texted Anjali: Julian’s with Becca. You think that’s a thing?

IDK. Maybe?

PLEASE TALK TO ME.

I feel sick, she typed.

I don’t see what the big deal is. I mean, you like him but if it’s not meant to be, it’s not.

Eden didn’t know how to explain. Didn’t want to talk about the movie theater. This was what ghosting felt like.

The device buzzed in place, loud like a thousand beetles. The message projected on the wall said:

DO NOT IGNORE THE DEVICE.

DO NOT IGNORE THE DEVICE.

THE DEVICE MUST NOT BE IGNORED.

The red letters warped some when they hit the framed photos on the wall: old birthday parties, forgotten vacations, a dead dad.

Eden backed away and said, “Sorry.”