“Listen to me,” pressed the other girl. “He’s in trouble. There are some really dangerous people in Merit, and they know he’s here, and they’re looking for him. I want to keep him safe, I do—and I can—but I need your help.”

Safe. Syd’s mind tripped over the word. If Victor was in trouble—but why was he in trouble, and how did June know? Who was looking for him? EON?

She started to ask, but June cut her off.

June, who’d never even raised her voice.

“Do you trust me or not?”

She did. She wanted to. But—

“Where is he, Sydney?”

She swallowed. “Merit Central Hospital.”

II

THE DAY BEFORE

MERIT CENTRAL HOSPITAL

IT was seventeen minutes past five.

Victor leaned back against Dumont’s gray sedan in the hospital parking garage and scrolled through Dom’s texts as he waited for the doctor. The buzzing in his skull seemed to ratchet up as he skimmed the most recent times.

3 minutes, 49 seconds.

3 minutes, 52 seconds.

3 minutes, 56 seconds.

4 minutes, 04 seconds.

The stairwell door clattered open across the garage.

Victor glanced up and saw Dumont, dark skin, gray hair, head bowed over his tablet as he headed toward his car. Toward Victor.

Victor didn’t move, simply waited for the doctor to come to him.

“Dr. Dumont?”

The man looked up, brows furrowing. Victor thought he saw something cross the doctor’s face. Not surprise, exactly, but fear. “Can I help you?”

Victor studied him, fingers flexing. “I certainly hope so.”

Dumont looked around the parking garage. “I’m off work,” he said,

“but you can make an appointment—”

Victor didn’t have time for this—he took hold of the doctor’s nerves,

and twisted. Dumont buckled with a shocked cry. He clutched his chest, sweat breaking out along his brow.

Having made his point, Victor let go.

Dumont sagged back against his car. “You’re—an EO.”

“Just like you,” said Victor.

“I don’t—hurt people,” said Dumont.

“No? Then how does your power work?”

Dumont let out a shaky breath. “I can see—how people are broken. I can—see how—to put them back together.”

Relief swept through Victor. Finally, a promising lead.

“Good,” he said, stepping toward the doctor. “Show me.”

Dumont shook his head. Victor was about take hold of the doctor’s nerves again when the stairwell door swung open and a small huddle of nurses stepped out, talking animatedly. A car beeped nearby. Victor shifted to block their view.

“Not here,” muttered Dumont.

“Then where?” asked Victor.

The doctor nodded at the hospital. “My office is on the seventh—”

“No,” said Victor. Too many eyes. Too many doors.

Dumont rubbed his forehead. “The fifth floor is under renovation. It should be empty. That’s the best I can do.”

Victor hesitated, but the humming in his head was spreading to his limbs. He was running out of time.

“Fine,” he said, “lead the way.”

* * *