Micah gave her a small smile, but she saw a distinct coldness in his eyes.

* * *

After Micah left the basement, Serotina walked out the exterior door to the stairwell at the side of the house. She sat on the top step, staring out over the grounds of the Sanctuary, where the sun would soon be setting. She loved this place, how it shaped her view of what was possible. She loved the people here, who had been so welcoming and supportive, seeing only the best in her. Ericka had offered her friendship and vulnerability. Zoe had taught her through yoga how to integrate parts of herself that hadn’t made sense together before. Jeremy and August had helped her move out of her lonely apartment. Micah was the first person to truly see her for who she was. He had held her hand when she entered the ocean, helped her face her fears with gentle confidence.

The money, the papers in his office, Justin’s accusations—it didn’t add up. Sero suddenly felt as if she couldn’t breathe freely. She knew there were problems brewing here, but she didn’t know if she could bring herself to leave this place. What about her friends? How could she just leave them behind if she cared about them? She could be more effective by staying. She’d been able to influence Micah before; she could help him get back on track now. And if not, perhaps she could convince some of the others, at least Ericka, to leave with her.

Serotina stood and walked toward the swimming pool. She pushed off her sandals and wrapped her toes over the edge. The scent of chlorine drifted up and began to itch at her nose, but she stood in place and inhaled deeply. Her mind drifted back in time, running over the years like a stone skipping water, alighting on certain memories. She thought of Prem’s bright smile, her mother with her roses, her father teaching her to play golf. She thought of Izzy and her dog and Mr. Chuckles, Mrs. Galbraith and her bonsai. She remembered the glory of winning a trophy at the Science Olympiad, and the pride she felt when she was awarded her scholarship. She thought of James, and she allowed herself to linger on those memories—the good ones—for a while.

She sat down at the pool’s edge, observing how the water distorted the size and color of her feet. Last year, she hadn’t been able to get this close to a pool without panicking. Her mind returned to Micah and the things he’d taught her, the things he’d said. If it wasn’t for Greenfields, none of this would be possible. She heard something deep inside her, barely discernible: a voice telling her what to do. But fear shrouded her, paralyzing her.

“Hey, Sero!” A voice from behind startled her. Ericka was leaning out of the back patio door. “Dinner!”

Sero waved at her, then stood, shook off her feet and returned to the basement. Inside, she locked the door and worked quickly, some force propelling her through the next motions. She carefully poured the large jug of rat poison into the newest batch of seedlings, young and vulnerable. She rinsed out the empty jug in the utility sink. After filling it with water, she placed it in the same spot on the basement floor, this one small act of courage all she could muster right now.