“Your Smarteye appears to have been lost in the Ag 6 dome. I’ve ordered a new one for you. It should be ready in a few hours. In the meantime, I can increase the dosage of sedative—”

“No,” she said quickly. “No sedatives.” She understood now why her thoughts felt scrambled, like important things had been rearranged or lost altogether. “Where’s my mother?”

“Lumina is in Bliss. The link has been down for a week.”

Aria stared at him. A beeping from the monitor announced the spike in her heartbeat. How could she have forgotten? She’d gone into Ag 6 because of Lumina. But how could Lumina still be unreachable? She remembered resetting the Smarteye and seeing the “Songbird” file.

“That can’t be right,” she said. “My mother sent me a message.”

Ward’s eyebrows drew together. “She did? How do you know it was from her?”

“It was called ‘Songbird.’ Only Lumina calls me that.”

“Did you see the message?”

“No, I didn’t have a chance. Where’s Paisley?”

Ward drew a slow breath before he spoke. “Aria, I am sorry to have to tell you this. Only you and Soren survived. I know you and Paisley were quite close.”

Aria gripped the edges of the bed. “What are you saying?” she heard herself ask. “Are you saying Paisley’s dead?” It wasn’t possible. No one died at seventeen. They easily lived into their second centuries.

The monitor beeped. This time it was louder and persisted.

Ward was talking. “You left the secure zone . . . with disabled Smarteyes. . . . By the time we responded . . .”

All she heard was beep-beep-beep-beep.

Ward trailed off and looked at the medical screen. At a graph that showed, in rising lines and soaring numbers, the collapsing sensation inside her chest.

“I’m sorry, Aria,” he said. The Medsuit stiffened, crinkling as it puffed around her limbs. Cold surged into her arm. She looked down. Blue liquid snaked its way through the tube and disappeared into her Medsuit. Into her. He had ordered the sedative through his Smarteye. Ward stepped closer. “Lay back now before you fall.”

Aria wanted to tell him to stay away, but her lips grew numb and her tongue became a strange limp weight in her mouth. The room lurched to the side as the beeping slowed abruptly. Aria fell back, hitting the mattress with a thud.

Dr. Ward appeared above her, his face anxious. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “It’s the best thing for you now.” Then he left, closing the door soundly behind him.

Aria tried to move. Her limbs felt weighted and pulled, like a magnet held her down. It took all her concentration to bring her hand toward her face. She scared herself, not recognizing the gloves over her fingers or the emptiness around her left eye.