I take in a breath. “I’m ready,” I tell Dash. Then, after a click, “Um, hello?”

“Hello, Emmaline,” says a familiar voice, infiltrating the quiet space in my head. “Long time, no talk.”

I instantly bristle, feeling my skin growing clammy, my heartbeat quickening. I know that voice, would know it anywhere.

It’s the Similars’ guardian. The man who created them, and who wrote me that note back in April breaking the news that I’m a Similar.

It’s Gravelle.

In seconds, his face pops up on the screen of my plum. I shiver at the sight of his sagging skin. His thin lips. His eyes that seem to bore right into my heart, squeezing it dry.

“Yes?” I’m testy, on edge. Why is Gravelle calling me? Why now? I have nothing to say to this man, except to rail at him for all the suffering he’s caused. To demand to know why he insisted on holding Levi on that island. “What is it?” I ask, not bothering to keep the venom out of my voice.

“Emmali—rather, Eden.” His pinched lips curl into a half smile. “You did get my letter, did you not?”

“Of course I got it,” I snap at him. “Excuse me for not writing back. I didn’t think your note warranted a response. Especially since there’s a good chance you’re lying to me. You didn’t exactly provide proof that I’m a…” I don’t say the word out loud. A Similar. “So who’s to say you’re not making the whole thing up?”

“I can see I hit a nerve.” Gravelle’s lips drop the pretense of a smile. “I can understand how traumatic the contents of my note must have been to you. But that’s not the letter I’m concerned with. Not today.”

It’s not? Heart pounding in my chest like a brass band, I glance at Ollie. Thank goodness he’s still asleep and hasn’t heard a word of this conversation. My father’s wearing the noise-canceling headphones he always uses while working. Good.

“Surely you know what this is about?” Gravelle prods, bringing my focus back to his soulless face.

“Of course I don’t—”

“I intercepted a certain…email of yours. Not five days ago, I believe.”

My heart lurches to my throat. He means my email to Levi. He read it. He got it. Of course he did. How could I have ever thought he wouldn’t see it? The man sees everything. Controls everything.

“That jog your memory?” Gravelle asks, humorlessly.

“Where is he? How is he? What are you doing to him?” I choke out in a strained whisper.

“Ah yes, young love. You would want to know, wouldn’t you?”

“Tell me what you’ve done to him. Or I swear—”

“What, dear Eden? What would you, what could you possibly do?”