That night, I dream about this skill of mine, this ability to see into others’ minds, now on command. I imagine why Gravelle spoke of it over the years, even expressed his fury that I’d gotten away. What would he have forced me to do, had I grown up on Castor Island with the other Similars and not left at the age of three? In the dream, I’m still a young child, maybe five or six. I’m reading the thoughts of everyone I encounter. Famous people. World leaders. In a cold, white room, not unlike the one where I was imprisoned on his island, I am questioned by Gravelle. I’m hooked up to a polygraph machine that shoots out page after page of red squiggles. Suddenly, Gravelle’s face clouds over in rage, and he shoots to his feet, interpreting one of the printouts and accusing me of lying.

I wake up in a sweat, terror seizing me. It only subsides when I realize I’m in my bed, in my room at Darkwood. Pru is asleep in the bed next to mine, her dark form rising and falling minutely, but enough for me to see her breathing. I unclench my fingers, considering for the millionth time how differently my life would have played out had I stayed on the compound with the others. Gravelle plucked me from the only home I knew before I was old enough to form strong bonds with the place—and with the Similars. Though I wonder, now, if subconsciously, I always knew we were connected, even last year when they first arrived at Darkwood. Is that why I felt so pulled to them? So curious to learn everything about them? Because somewhere, deep down, I knew they had once been my family?

Maude and I spend the morning together in the library, going over everything she learned about the stealth virus over the holiday break. She’s managed to reverse engineer it—a feat in itself—and she’s done it by remotely logging into Gravelle’s server on Castor Island.

“The good news is, I know how the virus works,” Maude tells me. “The bad news is, Gravelle is not bluffing. The virus is real, and it took out Ransom.”

“Could you turn it off?” I ask. “Is that a dumb question?”

“No. Not dumb. Yes, it can be shut down. But not remotely.” Maude sighs.

“I’ll never stop being impressed by you,” I tell her.

“I’m not the one who can read thoughts,” she quips.

I blanch. That’s definitely not something I’m proud of, and I tell her as much.