The pump house? It would make sense. It’s this dilapidated old building near Hades Point that used to house the school’s water system, before Darkwood was outfitted with modern plumbing. It’s full of creaky old machinery, and students never go there. But am I going completely off the deep end? Did I really hear Harlowe’s thoughts? What had Gravelle said to me in his email? That I have “incomparable mental agility”?

Is that what this is? Some way in which I can hear the thoughts happening in another person’s mind?

“So you’re not, um, hearing anything, anyone, besides us. Are you, Dash?”

“No, Emmaline, we’re the only ones here.” He sounds concerned. If only he knew.

She’ll go right back to her dorm and try to call the clones. Then she’ll search for her friends all night, and I won’t tip her off to look in the pump house till the morning.

My palms are sweaty, and I take them off the wheel to rub them on my jeans. I can barely handle what’s happening to me right now. But I don’t feel dizzy or sick. My head feels clear. Like I’ve woken up for the day after a blissful night of uninterrupted sleep. Must be all that adrenaline…

In my peripheral vision, I catch a glimpse of the rip at my right knee, and I take my eyes off the wheel to glance down. For a second, I think I’m seeing things. The cut I saw earlier, visible through the jagged hole in my jeans—it’s become scabbed. The way it should look days after it first appeared. Not thirty minutes later.

Reeling, I tear my eyes away from my knee and look back at the road, focusing on the fact that we’re almost there, and I need to get to the pump house. Now. But I can’t let Harlowe know I’m onto her.

“Dash, does the dirt road up there lead to the pump house? The old abandoned building by Hades Point?”

“Yes, but why?”

“No reason,” I mutter as I yank the wheel unpredictably to the right. We veer off the paved path and onto a rocky, uneven dirt lane that probably hasn’t seen a car on it in years. Especially not a vintage clunker without four-wheel drive. But it’s worked. I’ve lost Harlowe. In the rearview mirror, I see her car whooshing past, continuing on the paved path. She’s taking the long route.