Sire. It’s still strange to have a name for whatever I am. I try to call up the tingling warmth between my fingers, but nothing happens. I want to know how to control it. And I want to show the Families that I’m worthy of being one of them. But I shouldn’t make any impulsive decisions on my own. Me being kidnapped was not part of the plan. I’ve found the recruiter, got the invite, and now I need to get the hell out of Italy. I just hope that refusing to go with Michael won’t lose me my chance.

“I believe you, but I need to go home to my family before I make any final decisions.”

“That’s fair,” Michael says, resigned. “I’ll send you a formal application to Genesis, and I hope you’ll choose to come.”

I’m relieved that his offer is open, but selling the lie of my indifference is safer than the truth. “I’ll think about it,” I say.

“Until then”—his tone sharpens—“you can’t tell anyone about any of this.”

“Right, hiding for hundreds of years, hunted by dangerous people and all that.”

“We’ve stayed hidden for a long time, but things have changed in recent decades. Your world has airplanes and satellites and the internet—hiding an entire society has become more difficult. Telling anyone is a risk. Can I trust you with this knowledge?”

“Yes.” I avert my eyes and aggressively inspect the scars on my hands.

“Good. Because I really don’t want to have to muddle you.”

I look up sharply. “Muddle me?” Dread churns in my belly.

“Um, can we pretend I didn’t mention that?”

“Michael,” I insist. “What does it mean?”

“It means to make you forget.”

The dread rises into my throat, and I stand, taking a few steps away from him.

“I hate muddling people, but sometimes it’s necessary. Don’t worry. I’m not going to do it to you.”

“You can steal memories?”

“No, no, it’s only a blend of tea—”

“You were going to drug me?” I look down at my empty cup in horror.

“No!” He stands but doesn’t move toward me. He holds up his hands placatingly. “Ada, calm down. I’m not going to muddle you. I’m going to make sure that you get home safely, and then I’m going to hope that you’ll come to Genesis when you’re ready.”

I take a deep breath. He says he hasn’t done anything to me, and I’m going to believe him, because I don’t really have another choice. “Okay.”

By now the sun has fully risen; morning lights up the room, and I realize how thoroughly exhausted I am. I need to sleep and then think about everything with a clear head and copious amounts of caffeine.