EACH NIGHT LATELY I LIE AWAKE FOR HOURS, MY eyes open, ears attuned to the sounds of silence around me. Every so often I lift my head when I hear a distant noise—a drop of water hitting the floor, a person shifting in her sleep—and sometimes I crawl from bed and go to the window to be assured there’s nothing out there, an obvious attempt to feel some semblance of security, however flimsy it might be.

Each night passes with less sleep than the night before. I’ve grown weak, exhausted to the point of delirium. I have trouble eating. I know worrying doesn’t do me any good, but no amount of willing myself to rest or eat does anything to change how I feel. And when I finally do sleep, nothing keeps away the terrible dreams that wake me up again.

There’s been no sign of the mustached man in the week since I saw him in the café, but I can’t dismiss the notion that just because I haven’t seen him doesn’t mean he isn’t out there. I keep returning to the same questions: who was in my cave; who or what was the mustached man in the café; why was he reading a book with the name Pittacus on the cover; and, most importantly, why did he let me go if he’s Mogadorian? None of it makes sense, not even the title of his book. I’ve turned up nothing other than a brief summary of the plot online: a Greek general given to short, pithy statements defeats an Athenian army when they were on the verge of attacking the city of Mytilene. What does it have to do with anything?

The questions of the cave and book aside, I’ve come to two conclusions. The first is that nothing was done to me because of my number. For the time being, it’s keeping me safe, but for how long? The second is that the crowd of people in the café kept the Mogadorian from making a move. But from what I know of them, a Mogadorian wouldn’t let a few witnesses deter him. I’ve stopped rushing to and from school ahead of the others and have instead attached myself to their large group. To keep Ella safe, I’ve stopped walking with her in public. I know it hurts her feelings, but it’s for the best. She doesn’t deserve to be mixed up in my problems.