“You know, if you’d asked me last year, I’d say the scariest thing I’d ever seen was an AP chemistry final.” Sarah laughs. “And now, just yesterday, I watched my boyfriend fight a giant worm monster.”

I laugh. “Life sure got crazy in a hurry.”

“No wonder we’re turning into insomniacs.”

I wander over to the Lectern and start looking at some wires that my dad was working on before. Sarah sits down cross-legged next to me and watches.

“So you come down here and shoot a crossbow when you can’t sleep?”

“It’s as good as a warm glass of milk,” she replies. “Actually, I’ve been working on learning to shoot but I didn’t want to wake everyone up firing off guns.”

“Yeah, probably not a good idea. Everyone’s a bit on edge, huh?”

“That’s an understatement.”

I glance over at Sarah. It’s so hard to believe this is the same girl I went to high school with. What really throws me is that we’re having a conversation about artillery training.

“Been coming in here a lot, actually,” she continues. “John doesn’t sleep much. When he does, it’s all tossing and turning. And then he slips out of bed in the morning to go brood on the roof. He thinks I don’t notice, but I do.”

I smirk at Sarah, arching an eyebrow. “Sharing a bed, huh?”

She kicks at me playfully. “Whatever, Sam. There are only so many bedrooms. It’s not what you think, though. There’s something really not romantic about hiding from murderous alien invaders, you know? Not to mention I don’t like the idea of Eight just teleporting in or something.” She squints at me. “Even so, don’t tell my parents.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” I tell her. “Us humans have to stick together.”

I finish reconnecting the wires and something hums to life inside the Lectern. One of the panels along the wall suddenly juts out like a piston, then retracts.

“What’s that for?” Sarah asks.

“It’s like combat-simulation stuff, I guess. Nine told me his Cêpan had all kind of obstacles and traps set up in here.”

Sarah knocks on the floor in front of her. Something metallic rattles beneath her hand and she jerks back. “Maybe I should watch where I’m sitting.”

I stop messing with the wires, wanting to wait for my dad before I go any further and also not wanting to accidentally trigger some kind of spike trap under Sarah.

Sarah gently touches my arm. “So why aren’t you sleeping, Sam?”

Without realizing it, I find that I’m rubbing the scars on my wrists. “I had a lot of time to think when I was a prisoner,” I tell her.

“I know what you mean.”