Cami’s not angry at me—she’s disappointed, and that’s worse. Because she thinks I didn’t trust her enough to share what I’d learned. But the truth is, trust had nothing to do with it. Even if I had found a way to tell her, nothing would have changed. Dr. Manning made sure she and the other recruits had no memory of their nightly experimental sessions with Vanik, so if anything, she would have laughed it off and silenced my doubts, keeping me from discovering the truth.

Since awakening in the catacombs, I’ve often wondered if that’s the real reason she’s disappointed. Because if I’d opened up to her and she’d convinced me there was nothing to worry about, then we’d both still be at Lengard right now. Disillusioned lab rats, perhaps. But free from the cares we both now possess.

“Please don’t make me stay here,” Cami whispers when I remain silent. “I can’t—I don’t want to be left alone.”

I close my eyes tightly at the pain in her voice, wishing more than anything that I could heal her inner hurt as easily as she can heal others.

“I’m not going to make you do anything, Cam,” I tell her. “You’re free here. Completely free.”

We both know that’s not true. Because like me, Cami will never be truly free until everyone she cares about is safe. And yet, I still mean what I say, at least in the sense that I won’t use my Speaking gift to keep her from following me. It’s something I could do, as she’s fully aware. I could easily place bars around her or tie her to her bed. I could probably even force her back to sleep or … or … The possibilities are endless. But I won’t follow through with any of them. Not to Cami.

“I want you with me,” I say, my voice quiet. “But only if you’re sure you’re up for it.”

“I’m sick of waiting around and doing nothing,” Cami says, echoing my own thoughts, her voice stronger now. “Sulking and licking my wounds isn’t going to make anything better. So I say we get a hustle on and catch up to Kael before we miss out on whatever is happening.”

She closes the distance between us, handing me a dark object—no, two dark objects.

“Shoes, Lyss,” she says. “For us to hustle, you need shoes.”

My lips curl upward as I bend over and tug on the boots. I Speak a second leathery jacket into being and hand it over to her, waiting as she quickly throws on her own jeans and T-shirt beneath it.

I’m slowly getting used to Cami using my real name, but it still comes as a shock sometimes. For so long my name was the only thing I had that was mine. Or so I thought. Never mind that the Remnants all knew who I was, and so, apparently, did the older generation of Genesis Speakers at Lengard. But to my thinking, my name was a secret only I knew. It was my identity, the last iota of who I was before I killed my parents— maybe—and forfeited any chance I had of a normal life.