I stopped trying to break her grip and groped around on the floor instead. The manikin barely glanced at my grasping hands, her expression fixed on my face, like she wanted to watch the moment the light died in my eyes—

My palm touched the grenade. Black spots swam in front of my eyes, blurring the manikin’s monstrous face, and I didn’t hesitate before pulling the pin.

Time left me, and I came to on the floor in the aftermath of a flash. The manikin was rolling around on the floor, hands twitching over her eyes. This time I did not wait for her to recover. I got up, and I ran.

I could have attempted to retrace my steps to where I had last seen Lantern-Eyes and the Minister. I chose against it: after they’d defeated the rock-monster, they would remember that they were trying to slaughter each other, and I had no desire to get in the middle of that fight. Besides, although they had each kept me alive before, it had been for their own purposes. I didn’t want to help either of them find the Philosopher Stone—nor did I want to end with one of their hands around my throat.

I hurried through the halls, twisting and turning at random, until I felt certain that I had left the manikin far behind. I’d ended up in a moderately sized, empty room. And it was empty: there was nothing in there with me that I could see, or hear, or smell.

I still could’ve been followed, no matter how far I’d run. Lantern-Eyes or Indigo would be inconvenient, but the manikin or that rock monster would be worse. I flicked off my flashlight and shoved myself into a dark alcove, hidden and out of the way. I sat there, flashlight in one hand, straining to listen and see in the dark, waiting to find out what might follow me.

I remember my sister sitting at the kitchen table, her back to me and the sunlight facing her. The memory had the timeless feeling that memories from childhood have, when hours of the day and days of the week meant less. My sister was a silhouette at the kitchen table, sunlight glinting gold through her hair and turning her glass of water into a glass of light.

I realized how thirsty I was when I saw that glass. So thirsty my tongue was dry, so thirsty I couldn’t think of anything but drinking. I snuck up behind my sister and reached around her, stealing her water glass from her side and taking a sip from it. The water tasted like nothing, felt like air.

She didn’t react. Her hair curtained her face from the side, hiding her features from me, and she was working on a simple circuit-board. I knew this memory. Brigid had liked puzzles and circuits. I’d always been bad at them, but Brigid was patient and logical like that.

The water glass in my hand felt oddly out-of-place, like its texture didn’t quite match the world around. “Let me help you,” I said to Brigid.