“Can we talk later? I’m kind of busy right now,” Ollie answers, exasperated but trying not to be rude. The delay gives me my opportunity. I lunge up the steps to where Ollie stands and plant myself in the doorway, so he can’t get past me.

“Ollie! What the hell is going on?” I demand. “Why are you running from me? I know you’re angry, but talk to me, for God’s sake!”

Focus. Ignore her. Send the buzz. You have to.

I blink, unsure at first what’s happening. Then I know. I’m hearing Ollie’s voice in my head. Talking to me in that familiar, quiet way that sounds far off, but also like he’s speaking right in my ear.

It’s all right. Even if she reads your thoughts, she won’t know. Just do it, now, before you lose your window. You only have five minutes.

Window? What window? And what does Ollie mean, five minutes? I look down at my plum. It’s 4:00 p.m. I can’t make all this compute. I have no idea what these thoughts of his mean. They’re just empty words. A jumble.

Give the report. Everything’s fine. No one suspects… Make your mind a blank. Even if she reads it, there’s nothing there. Nothing she’ll understand.

I’m so confused I can’t even speak. All I’m trying to do is make sense of these thoughts in Ollie’s head, coming at me in a stream of consciousness. The weirdest part is, they don’t sound like him. They don’t sound like him at all.

Ollie’s typing, rapid-fire, on his plum. I’m simply watching, confused and mildly terrified.

“Ollie?” I whisper, my voice sounding as hollow as I feel. “What’s going on?”

But he’s still ignoring me. Typing faster and faster.

Eden has no idea. None of them do. Everything you’ve planned is prepped. Airtight.

Everything who’s planned? What’s he talking about? What’s airtight?

Installation went off without a hitch. She’ll never check the time stamp on my wrist with an infrared light. She’d never even know what that means. I’m safe. She won’t understand.

I still don’t know what’s happening, but a distinct feeling of dread is filling me. What is Ollie talking about? Infrared light?

This is 002.04, sending this message to Pollux. Signing off now. Goodbye.

Ollie stops typing and pockets his plum. He turns and looks at me, recognition dawning on his face. It’s like he finally sees me. Me, Emma, for the first time since I chased him down.

“Hey!” he grins at me. “Ready to finish our movie marathon?”

I have never been so frightened of Ollie’s smile in my life. I don’t answer—I don’t breathe a word—I simply turn and run.