While Rebeka twisted shadows to her will, Phillip reshaped the course of electric currents. He had way more power to draw from now than his old frequency folder could have ever handled. It would have to be enough to seal off the universes for good.

For good, Phillip thought to himself, a strange smile crossing his face. He was in control of how his device was being used. Not Mr. Connolly, not his parents, not the US Army. He got to decide.

“Come on, Evangeline,” Simone muttered beside him, waiting for her honey-voiced operative to call back in. She was supposed to be clearing some kind of escape route. It all sounded nearly impossible, but hadn’t everything they’d done this past week? Phillip tightened a coil of copper around the final screw and sat back.

“Monsters.”

Simone dropped the receiver as they both turned. The soldier was crawling along the floor, blood smearing a trail behind him. Phillip should have known his rank from the flash cards they memorized in basic (and later used for target practice), but his mind went blank. The soldier’s leg dragged, mangled, behind him. And he was pointing a Walther P38 directly at Phillip.

“Call your Allied dogs off,” he snarled. “Now.”

Simone dove for her rifle where she’d left it on the other counter, but the soldier was too close—he batted it away. He fired a warning shot directly at Phillip’s feet.

“Your days are done,” Phillip said. “You’re clinging to a past that never was and a future that never will be.”

“They promised me . . . They promised me”—he coughed up blood—“power beyond imagining. That we should never again suffer the humiliation at the hands of those insidious Jews and Communists. And then—then the whispers grew louder, promising more—”

The Resistance channel sparked to life behind them. “Simone?”

“Your power is gone,” Phillip said, new urgency beating hard against his ribs. They needed to answer that call. “The shadow world is closing, and it’ll never hurt anyone again.”

The soldier glowered at him, but all Phillip felt was sudden, manic laughter. He’d fought so hard to win approval from men like Mr. Connolly, from his professors and parents and friends. He’d been fighting so long to earn his place. And for what?

He didn’t need it. He knew what he was capable of. The good he’d already done. And everything he could do still.

“Simone, are you there, darling? Please . . . please be there . . . over.”

The soldier’s gun wavered. “Please bring it back. Bring the shadows back . . . I can’t hear the whispers anymore.” He choked on a sob. “Kreutzer promised us . . .”

Simone seized the transmitter and pressed the button, her glare never leaving the soldier’s face. “I’m here.”