I’ll never forget that initial encounter with Eric Smith for as long as I live. It was on my first day at Profectus, after all.

“Your mom bought it for you and then she disappeared?”

“Yes. She must have spoken out against the update too. I only found out where she’d really gone just after you did,” he continues. “They’re not at Lake Baku anymore, though. Dad had to move all the ‘objectors’ from Lake Baku to the downtown HQ last night until he can figure out somewhere else to keep them.” He looks down at the floor and grips the bundle tighter to his chest. My eyes flicker down toward it, wondering what he could be concealing. “After she left, all I ever wanted to do was prove myself to my dad. To be good enough. To be worthy of his attention—and more than that. His confidence. I wanted him to tell me what was going on at Moncha, to let me in on his plans. But he never did, until today. And now look at me. About to betray him. I guess he was right. I’m more like Mom after all.”

“Wait…what?”

“I know, right. Finally something we can agree on. No one should have their future taken away from them, Lacey. The update—it’s not right. So, I want to help you stop my dad.”

“Are you serious?”

“I am. And I know how I can prove it to you.”

“How?”

“Will you let me in so I can show you?”

It could still be a trap, of course. He could be a much better actor than I give him credit for, just pretending that his mom is wrapped up in this whole thing. But then I think about whether I want to take that risk. Jinx can protect himself; I know that. This is someone asking for help. And I want to be the type of person who will give it to them.

“Okay,” I say. I step forward and undo the chain to my engineering cave.

He steps in swiftly, barging past me, and for a moment my heart hitches in my chest. What if he’s about to destroy everything?

But instead he puts the bundle down on my work surface and unwraps the dark gray blanket, revealing a rumpled form of a broken boar baku.

My hand flies to my mouth. It’s Hunter, but almost completely destroyed. That’s why Carter looked so different; he didn’t have his baku at his feet. I didn’t notice in all the intensity of my rage. Now, my focus is on the baku, and I rush forward, trying to assess the damage. It’s bad. He looks as if he’s been run over by a truck.