“Go!” Rudd yelled, jumping into the front seat. The driver, a black man in a Memphis Grizzlies hat and sunglasses, began to back out of the ramp.

William looked to Lily. “You got out.”

“Barely,” Quincy said. “One minute later and we would have been burnt toast.”

William saw Rudd turn angrily to the windshield. “Don’t speed, for God’s sake. Make it seem like we’re out for a leisurely drive. We were pretty far down that ramp, maybe nobody saw what happened back there. That agent stayed on the floor. If we’re lucky, he didn’t see the license plate…”

Rudd rubbed his eyes. William could see the sleeve of his shirt was singed.

“Do we need to get you to a doctor—?”

“What we need to do is get you out of here,” Rudd snapped.

“How…” William began. “How did you even know where I was?”

“We didn’t,” Quincy said, motioning to Lily. “Looks like you have your own personal tracking device—”

“Can you all just be quiet?” Rudd said. “Please.”

William felt the girl slide up against him. He lifted his arm and she leaned against his chest.

“I’m a monster,” she whispered.

She looked up at him, the proximity to her bringing forth a sensation, almost a jolt, that threatened to take his breath away.

“I’m a monster in the mountain,” she said.

She then snuggled up closer to him and closed her eyes.

He stared at her in stunned realization, almost reaching down to place his finger under her chin, lifting so she would have to look up.

He was wrong to think that Lily looked familiar when he found her inside his trailer. Nothing about her—the tightly-pulled hair, cheeks still round with baby fat, the dimpled chin—was recognizable.

But he knew her.

In his nightmares, a pair of eyes watched each disaster, including the dying people at the hospital. Doctors rushing, gurneys wheeling, sunken skin and faces ultimately covered by white sheets, all observed from another who was somehow inside the stone formations in the distance.

Each time, he went from witnessing the horrors himself at the hospital to being trapped within that stone. There, in the dark, with something slithering across his skin, his only companion was that singular pair of eyes.

I’m a monster in the mountain.

Eyes belonging to the girl beside him.

The helicopter’s blades tossed the flags of the federal building, the last light of day falling across the building’s hundreds of windows. Without an official helipad, the helicopter had to circle the building to position itself to land in a small grassy courtyard.

Circle for hours if you want, Kate thought. Circle for days.

She needed more time to think, to attempt to process what she’d read. The few hours hadn’t been enough.

A lifetime might not be enough.

You were wrong. You have been wrong the entire time.