“In that case, I wish you a happy retirement,” said the Engineer. “Would you like to know how long before the Accelerator overloads, for old time’s sake?”

Stephanie opened her mouth – then paused. “No,” she smiled. “That’s not my problem any more.”

“Very well. Have a nice life, Stephanie.”

“You too, Engineer,” she said, and walked out. And that was it. That was all she’d needed. A simple choice like that, and it all changed. Her future opened up before her. Blossomed like a flower. Every opportunity, every avenue, came into sudden, vivid clarity. She would be a good daughter, a great sister, a wonderful girlfriend, a decent person. She would finish that Stephen King book. She would go to college. She would live and love. She would be vibrant and happy and thoughtful and strong. She had long outgrown her limitations as a reflection, and now she would outgrow her limitations once more.

Stephanie laughed.

The fist caught her in the side of the head and the corridor tilted and threw her to the unsteady ground. She rolled, not sure which way was up. She got her feet under her and straightened her legs, staggered against the wall. The whole world spun and the wall wasn’t there any more and she was falling through an open door.

A man appeared in the doorway, a giant of a man, muscled arms bursting from his sleeveless denim jacket, long black hair in tangles. She knew him. She knew his face, ugly as it was. Obloquy. He was one of Vincent Foe’s little band of nihilists. She backed up unsteadily, expecting Foe to make his presence known. But it seemed that Obloquy was here alone. Obloquy the giant, the thug. The Sensitive.

But of course it wasn’t Obloquy. Not really. He was sweating, and his movements were clumsy. He was a vehicle that someone was taking for a test drive, and not planning to return.

“Darquesse,” Stephanie said.

Darquesse twisted her male face into a leering grin, and swung a punch. Stephanie saw it coming. She ducked under it and lunged, going for Darquesse’s eyes, but Darquesse was already raising a knee.

It was an awkward move, but it caught Stephanie right in the belly. Her jacket was open, unzipped, and the knee took the breath out of her. She stumbled away, her muscles in spasm.

“Did I hear right?” Darquesse asked, following. “You’re retiring? You’re saying your goodbyes? Did you honestly think that was going to happen? Really? You think you’re the one, out of everyone, who gets a happy ending?”

Stephanie straightened, sucking in air. She tried to zip up her jacket but the zipper was stuck.