“Talking is useless. I need to do something. I’ve spent the past few hours trying to get off this rock, but they’re not letting anyone leave. I need to find out if those fools from last night can lead me to the Inquisitor scum who abducted my cousin.”

“How are you so sure it’s the Inquisitors who are behind the abductions?” If I let him chase the wrong culprit, he’s less likely to find Hypatia.

“Of course it is. They’ve been hunting us for generations, hoping to steal our knowledge and then finally wipe us out. We have the evidence, and we should have acted on it long ago.”

What evidence could they possibly have? Maybe I should tell him about Ozymandias Tech? But I don’t have enough proof that it’s actually them kidnapping Sires. Is their genetic research and Izzy’s text message enough to convince Rafe he’s barking up the wrong tree?

“I can’t believe it’s come to this.” Rafe covers his face with his hands. “Hypatia has urgent medical needs. I don’t know how she’s going to manage.”

I blink rapidly, trying to banish the memories of my own kidnapping, which are creeping along the edges of my sanity. I still don’t know much about Hypatia’s illness, but I do know what it’s like to be abducted. I can’t imagine her going through what I went through. It’s hard to speak past the lump in my throat.

“Rafe, I’m so sorry.”

He stiffens, the look on his face making it clear that he again remembers who he’s speaking to. “Your roommate and Master Loew were both hounding me about you all morning. As you seem to be feeling better, you should go to them.”

Even as he dismisses me, he looks so lost… so sad.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

Abruptly he bangs his fist against the wall. “Get out,” he says.

I’m not offended by his anger. In fact, I’m drawn in by it. I recognize that he doesn’t want me to see him vulnerable. But I don’t want him to feel so alone.

Why, oh why, do I care?

I walk over to him and lightly put a hand on his back. I feel his muscles relax as he almost imperceptibly leans into my touch. But only for a moment.

“Just leave,” he says, his eyes squeezed shut.

So I do.

I head back to my room to change my clothes. Georgie’s not there, but I find her at breakfast, where she accosts me with a fierce hug.

“I’ve been worried sick!”

“I’m fine, but I’m not the one you need to be worried about.”

She holds me at arm’s length, assessing. “Is… is that Prince Jerk’s jacket?”