“Well, she said that she saw the organization logo thing and then a bunch of stuff about Class A. And she says that’s what we are. In the categorization of Atypicals or something, that I’m a Class A, we’re Class As.”

“Yes.” She nods. “Yes, that’s true. So Adam’s parents are working with the military and the AM to experiment with Class A Atypicals who are also soldiers? I’m sorry, that’s a bit of a hard story to swallow. I don’t think there are enough known Class A Atypicals to populate the military.”

“No, the soldiers aren’t special like us,” I say, trying to work through the confusion knotting my head—pushing aside the whole “Class A” conversation that clearly needs to happen so that we can get to the bottom of this. “Chloe thinks they were using Atypicals to experiment on the Marines. She thinks they did something to Frank.”

“That’s a pretty serious accusation.” Dr. Bright raises her eyebrows at me and a real, genuine calm starts to loosen the knot.

“I know,” I breathe. “But, look, I trust her. She knows that she can’t be one hundred percent sure without talking to them more, but Chloe thinks that’s why I have such a strong reaction to Frank. Because they, like, did something with his empathy.”

“That’s what she saw in the Hayeses’ thoughts?” she asks. “That they were experimenting on Frank’s empathy?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I shrug.

“Have you talked to Adam?” There’s another shock but it’s not Dr. Bright this time. It’s my own fear.

“I texted him earlier,” I say. “But he and his parents were on their way to have lunch with his aunt and apparently that’s usually a pretty drawn-out thing so I don’t—I don’t think he’s checking his phone.”

“What did you text him?” she asks, and I want to roll my eyes at the fact that I spend a lot of time talking about my texts in therapy.

“Just that I’m really freaked out,” I mumble. “That I’m worried his parents are dangerous. I don’t know, it didn’t feel like this before, it—” I swallow, worry clawing its way up my throat. “But now that I know Chloe and I know there are other people out there like me, it feels like a them-and-us situation, you know? Like, what if his parents are against people like me?”

“I don’t want you to grow paranoid, Caleb,” she soothes, her soft, lukewarm comfort reaching out for me. “I know that Chloe has learned a lot about the AM in these past few weeks—and I’m very much responsible for that—but I don’t want her filling your head with fears.”