“I’ll take that as a no, then. Because if you had, you would have seen the clause that states how parents are exempt from that particular rule.”

My jaw drops. “What?”

Mom sighs, and Petal brings up the agreement with my signature on the bottom. Or rather, my fingerprint, processed through my baku.

“See?” she says, pointing at the line. Sure enough, the sentence reads that I could have told Mom what was going on at school all along. “Now, my little tinkerer. Tell me everything.”

I don’t need any more encouragement than that. The words come spilling out of me like water from a burst dam. I start with the fact that Profectus hadn’t given me money for a level three baku at all. I’d found Jinx—or the broken and mangled wreck of him—by the side of the railroad tracks. I’d spent all summer repairing him to full functionality. And then…

I remember what Jinx told me in the basement of Moncha HQ. He was the one who’d hacked into the system and orchestrated my acceptance into Profectus.

He really was no ordinary baku.

She listens patiently, gasping and groaning at key points in the story, her eyebrows rising alarmingly high up her forehead when I tell her who was after Jinx: Eric Smith. The second-most-powerful person in the entire Moncha Corporation after Monica herself.

When I get to the part about Jinx running away from me yet again, I finally break down, my words merging together, almost indistinguishable. I still can’t remember much other than running through the hallways, and the frustration of losing my memory and Jinx is almost too much to bear. Before I know it, Mom wraps her arms around me and pulls me close.

“You should have come to me,” she whispers into my hair.

“I know,” I stutter back, my voice choked with tears.

“You don’t have to tackle this on your own. Tomorrow, you and I will march into Moncha headquarters, demand an audience with Eric Smith, and ask him where Jinx is. Even if Moncha does own all the bakus, and even if Jinx is…different, they can’t just steal him away from you with no explanation. And with Jinx still missing, that’s the most obvious place to start looking.”

This time I sob again, but it’s out of relief, not sadness. Mom looks fierce, her blue eyes, so different from my dark ones, shining bright. I haven’t seen her this animated in years, and it ignites a spark deep inside my belly. Maybe things will be okay after all.

“But will Eric Smith see you?” I say through my sniffles.

Mom stiffens her shoulders. “He better. He owes me.”

I raise an eyebrow, despite myself. “Owes you?”

“You might be surprised to hear this, but once upon a time, your dad and I knew Eric Smith quite well.”