Rebeka shook her head at both of them and stormed into the radio room.

The glorious, massive radio room, full of transponders, recorders, high-powered broadcasting equipment . . .

And two SS radio operators, sidearms leveled right at them.

“Drop your weapons,” Simone barked in German. “I guarantee I’m a better shot than either of you.”

One, a plump man with Himmler-style round glasses, started to falter, but the other brought his one hand up to steady his gun arm as he tried to aim—

Simone’s shot tore straight through one hand and into his lungs, flipping him backward in his chair. The man in the glasses gasped, dropped his sidearm, and raised both hands. “I surrender!”

“I didn’t ask you to.” Simone fired square at his chest. She turned back toward Phillip and Rebeka, ready to have to defend her choice, but neither of them were about to shed any tears over dead Nazis. She swept the rest of the room and, finding no one else, gave the all-clear.

Phillip whistled low as he approached the operator’s desk. “This is gonna do nicely.” He flipped a row of switches, and the equipment hummed, ascending, at a steady pitch.

Rebeka and Simone joined him. “What do we need to do?” Simone asked.

Phillip brushed his fingertips over the equipment. “First, we’ll link up these transponders. This frequency folder is gonna need some legs.”

As Simone reached for the first set of cables, though, the earth rumbled beneath them again. Rebeka stumbled backward with a yelp, then fell eerily silent, her eyes going to that far-off place.

“What?” Simone whispered. “What is it?”

Rebeka’s lips moved for a moment before she returned to herself. “Daniel,” she said. “He’s—he’s alive. But the shadow realm—it’s eating into our own, and the angry ones, Pitr’s controlling them . . . I need to help him.” Her voice was grim. “He can’t do it alone.”

Simone’s throat tightened. With sudden, cold clarity, she realized she was afraid for this girl. She hadn’t felt fear like this for someone else since . . . She couldn’t even recall. But above all, she’d learned Rebeka was brave, and stronger than Simone could have ever imagined. It made Simone want to be strong for more than just herself, too.

“Please,” Simone whispered. “Be careful.”

Phillip hesitated, fist closing and unfurling. “Rebeka . . .”

Rebeka rushed toward him then, gripped his chin, and tugged him into a desperate kiss. Simone’s stomach flipped before she made herself look away. They deserved each other—the mad, desperate American boy and the ferocious shadow girl. Simone wished she could be deserving, too.

No. That was a lie. She could be. Maybe she already was.

When she looked back, Rebeka nodded to her once, curt, and then melted into the shadow realm.

“Um. Okay.” Phillip’s hands shook as he fiddled with the control panels once more.