“You can’t do this!” My voice sounds breathless, and I’m shaking. I was a lot more confident about this on my jog over here. Now I feel like someone who’s about to accuse the head of her boarding school of something unthinkable. And criminal.

Ransom looks up from his desk, which is littered with vials and tubing. Next to him is an IV pole with a bag hanging from it. My stomach turns at the sight of it. What kind of illicit medical procedure is going on here?

“Emmaline? May I help you?” He doesn’t make any moves to hide the medical equipment or try to mask what he’s doing. For some reason, that makes me feel even sicker.

I hate this man and his hypocrisy. I stare at him, bracing myself to hear his thoughts again. But nothing comes. I’m starting to think that this thing—this disturbing ability—is entirely out of my control.

“I know what you’re about to do,” I say before I lose my nerve. I feel my cheeks flushing, and I don’t take my hand off the doorknob. Gripping it is the only thing keeping me from running straight out of here. “I bet Principal Fleischer told you last year, didn’t she? About how I discovered the Similars in the abandoned science building? Hooked up to all those machines? I know the Huxleys have been funding your research, if you can even call it that. Personally, I’d call it exploitation.”

“Emmaline,” Ransom warns. “It would really be in your best interests to return to the masquerade ball. I don’t remember inviting you into my office. Do you?”

“That’s it, isn’t it?” I indicate the IV pole and bag. “The product of your ‘research’?”

“That is the cocktail, yes,” Headmaster Ransom says, almost reverently.

“I’ll expose you,” I say, my cheeks burning. “I’ll tell the whole world that you only invited the Similars to Darkwood so you could exploit them. To use their blood and cells for your own gain, because you’re ill.”

Ransom picks up an IV cannula, tying a blue band tight around his arm so his vein will be properly positioned. “You’re too late. This infusion contains the platelets and plasma that will provide me with the longevity I’m seeking.” He pricks his arm with the cannula and inserts the IV. I watch, intrigued but disgusted. I want to take in every detail, in case this information may be useful later on. “Once it’s in my system, you can’t do anything about it, Emmaline.”

“Yes, I can. I’ll go to the authorities. The FBI. I’ll tell them that you stole that cocktail, that you have no right to it! You’ll be prosecuted!”