Eli learned not to scream, but his eyes would still blur with tears, the colors in the stained glass running together until all he saw was light.

He held on to that, as much as to the steel cross beneath his fingers.

Eli didn’t know how he was broken, but he wanted to be healed.

He wanted to be saved.

XI

XII

FOUR YEARS AGO

EON—LABORATORY WING

STELL knocked his knuckles on the counter.

“I’m here to speak with one of your subjects,” he said. “Eli Cardale.”

“I’m sorry, sir, he’s in testing.”

Stell frowned. “Again?”

This was the third time he had come to see Eli, and the third time he’d been fed a line.

The first time, the excuse had been believable. The second, inconvenient. Now, it was obviously a lie. He hadn’t pulled rank up until this point, but only because he didn’t want the headache, or the reputation. EON was still a new venture, his venture—so new that the building around them wasn’t even finished—but it was also his responsibility, and Stell knew in his gut that something was wrong. The unease pinched, like an ulcer.

“That’s the same answer I was given last time.”

The woman—Stell didn’t know if she was a doctor, a scientist, or a secretary—pursed her lips. “This is a research lab, sir. Testing is a frequent component—”

“Then you won’t mind interrupting the current session.”

The woman’s frown deepened. “With a patient such as Mr. Ever—”

“Cardale,” corrected Stell. Ever had been a self-appointed moniker, aggrandizing and arrogant (if slightly prophetic). His real name was

Eliot—Eli—Cardale.

“With a patient such as Mr. Cardale,” she amended, “testing requires immense preparation. Ending an exam early would be a waste of EON resources.”

“And this,” said Stell, “is a waste of my time.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll observe the session until it’s finished.”

A shadow crossed her face. “Perhaps if you’d rather wait here—”

With that, Stell’s unease turned to dread.

“Take me to him. Now.”

XII

TWENTY-THREE YEARS AGO

XIII

THE FIRST HOME

ELI sat on the porch steps and looked up at the sky.

It was a beautiful night, the strobe of red and blue lights painting the house, the lawn, the chapel. The ambulance and the coroner’s van parked in the grass. One unnecessary, the other waiting.

He pressed a worn old Bible to his chest while the cops and medics moved around him as if in orbit, close but never touching.

“Kid’s in shock,” said an officer.

Eli didn’t think that was true. He didn’t feel shaken. Didn’t feel anything but calm. Maybe that was shock. He kept waiting for it to wear off, for the steady hum in his head to give way to terror, to sadness. But it didn’t.