‘The one we found you dying outside of in the desert. How did you know where to find it?’

I try to turn invisible, but again, the moment I try testing my Legacy, my stomach erupts with a ferocious and immediate pain. I want so badly to curl up in a ball, but the straps hold me flat and the pain takes my breath away.

‘Drink your water,’ the agent advises again. His voice is back to its detached neutrality.

Just as I did the first time, I obey, take a sip and wait. The pain finally starts to dull, but then a powerful wave of dizziness washes over me. My mind feels like it’s a car careening out of control, swerving this way and that. The thoughts, too many of them to be coherent, come fast and furious. The events from the last few days flash by me. I see myself taking hold of Marina’s arm right before we teleported. I see Crayton lying motionless. I watch myself saying goodbye to John and Sam. I almost forget where I am. That is, until the voice forces me back to my present circumstances.

‘Where is Number Four?’ He is nothing if not consistent, this guy.

‘Who?’ I ask, forcing myself to focus on what he’s saying. If I don’t, I’m going to make another mistake like I did before.

All of a sudden, the calm voice is completely gone. He screams through the speaker, ‘Where is Number Four?’ I wince at the noise.

‘Go to hell,’ I spit. I’m not telling him anything.

Ella? Marina? Anyone? If anyone can hear me, you need to say something. I need help. I’m in some desert. All I know is I’m near a U.S. government base, and the FBI has me. We’re going somewhere, but I don’t know where. And there’s something wrong with me. I can’t use my Legacies.

‘Who was with you in India, Number Six? Who were the man and the two girls?’

I stay silent. I picture Ella’s face. The youngest Lorien left. I know how that must weigh on her. And now, she’s without Crayton. It was just a day ago I was jealous of what they had, and now he’s gone.

‘What numbers were they? Who were the girls?’ Agent Purdy sounds impatient, though his voice is calmer now.

‘That’s my band. I play the drums. They sing. I love Josie and the Pussycats , don’t you? I like to watch retro cartoons. All the kids are doing it.’ My lips crack and bleed again when I smile. I don’t mind. I taste my blood on my tongue and smile wider.