I don’t know how to respond to Igby’s words. Part of me feels hope—Molly made it to the vault, where Day and Shion will have looked after her, helped her get clean, nursed her back to health, but if they were stuck in that vault, no way out, no source of food or water, then surely they’re either dead or captured.

“They weren’t in the Block?” I ask, remembering that Igby had access to that information via the eye.

“No, none of the clones from the vault were in the Block,” Igby replies.

She can’t have survived, a voice says, unbidden, in my mind.

I’m about to ask Igby if he thinks there’s any chance Molly might still be alive, but my words are cut off by the sound of something tumbling to the floor in the bathroom where Kina and Wren are, and then the sound of screaming.

Igby and I dash for the bathroom. I get there first and throw open the door.

Wren is on her back with Kina in a choke hold on top of her. Wren is growling in an almost-inhuman way, and for a second I’m sure that she has become a Smiler once again. Kina’s eyes are rolling back in her head as her struggling arms fall limp.

I rush over to Wren and grab her arm, wrenching it away from Kina’s neck.

“Get off me! Get off me!” Wren screams, and—as her arm comes free from Kina’s neck—she punches me twice, once in the right eye and once on the nose.

I fall back, and she dives on Kina again.

“What the hell is all the noise?” Dr. Ortega asks from the doorway. “I’m trying to sleep, for the love of hell.”

She sees Igby trying to restrain Wren and calmly walks to the far side of the room, grabs another syringe, and injects Kina.

“Shit, that was a double dose,” Dr. Ortega says, staring at the empty needle.

“Why are you sedating her?” I ask. “She’s the one being attacked!”

The doctor shrugs, grabs another syringe, and injects Wren. The two girls become groggy and fall to the floor, sedated.

“Can I get back to sleep now, maybe?” Dr. Ortega asks, and then marches out of the room, back to her book bed.

“We’re going to have to restrain Wren until we can figure out how to help her,” Igby says, breathing heavily.

“No,” I say, “we’re not restraining her. She’s spent two months restrained and locked up. We’re not doing that to her.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Igby asks. “Just let her attack people every time she forgets where she is?”

I’m about to reply when, from the main library, Akimi’s voice calls out, “Scavenger group returning.”