Levi deflates, and I remember he’s standing there next to me. Not that I ever could forget. I only force myself to ignore the electricity that thrums through me any time we’re in a room together, in spite of everything. “He was obsessed, Emma,” he says, turning to face me. “With this idea of us conquering all human physical limitations…”

“And all mental ones,” Pippa supplies. “None of us ever got to that point, of being successful at brain-to-brain communication. I think Gravelle was always angry about that, and disappointed. He’d let you go, to live with your dad, and I think he always knew you were the one who got away.”

“The special one,” Levi adds. “The one with this unique ability to control your mind. And see into others’.”

“I hate it,” I confess to them. “For the most part, it makes me find out stuff I absolutely do not want to know. Ever,” I add. “If this keeps up, I’ll be sitting on thousands of secrets by the time I die. Maybe more—”

“Not if you learn to control it, like you just did,” Maude cuts in. “If you think of it that way—like a skill you can hone and practice and control—then you can use it only when you really want to. When you have a good reason to. Like just now.”

“What good did it do us?” I complain. “So now we know Harlowe’s planning to screw you over so you can’t get into college.”

“We can try to stop her,” Pippa says softly.

“And at the very least, write to those colleges to explain that there’s been a mix-up. A mistake,” Maude adds.

“You did good, Emma,” Theodora tells me with a wry smile. I don’t return it.

“She knows,” I tell them. “She knows she didn’t say anything out loud about that college admissions stuff.”

“So what?” Maude scoffs. “Let her have a field day with this. We’re stronger than she is. Smarter. And you have the most useful skill of all.”

I don’t share in their enthusiasm. As I make my way down the spiral stairs of the Tower Room, Levi catches up to me, grabbing my hand in the darkened hallway and pulling me close. It’s torture being mere inches from him and not acting on it. But I can’t. He lied to me. That hasn’t changed.

“Have you ever…you know,” he says, his voice husky. “Read my thoughts?”

“No,” I say quietly. For a second, we’re so focused on each other—our breathing, our silent acknowledgment of how much we want this, whatever this is…

“If you did,” Levi says, “you’d know how truly sorry I am. For everything.”

He drops my hand and moves off down the hallway, stuffing his fists in his jeans pockets. I watch him go, wishing I’d stopped him.