I don’t have any answers. I don’t even know if I’m right in what I’m thinking. But as I wipe my mouth and stand to my wobbly feet, an idea comes to me.

I know it’s the middle of the night. I know there are so many problems facing me right now—problems I can’t think about without wanting to curl into a ball and cry. The serum … My Speaking ability …

I can’t think about it. Not yet.

But this …

This I can’t let go of. This I can’t ignore. Not until I learn the truth.

And I think there’s someone here who can help me do exactly that.

Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I’m shaking as I retrace my steps along the passageway from the holding cell, shaking as I come to a stop when I reach the three-pronged fork, shaking as I hold my hand out in front of me and whisper, “Compass.”

A relieved breath whooshes from me when light flares and the small silvery object lands on my palm, identical to the one I created while inside Lengard.

“Locate Smith,” I command.

When nothing happens, I tell myself it’s because I don’t know enough about the boy, that I didn’t focus as much as I did when I used the compass to locate Ward, and later, Arryn. That it’s just like when I tried to locate the breakout—no, not a breakout, Riley—last night.

But I’m lying to myself, since that’s not why there was no light, why the compass remains still in my hand. After my conversation with Ward, I’m aware that I have a ticking clock hanging over my head. He said twenty-four hours, but he also said it could be less than that, and that the more time passes, the more I’ll feel the effects of the serum. There are no guarantees from here on out for me, no certainties that my Speaking ability will work. And soon, it will be gone completely.

I can’t …

I can’t …

I fill my lungs with air and let it out slowly, forcing my shaking limbs to settle and my mind to quiet.

I close my eyes and picture Smith clearly, from his messy ginger hair, to his bright gray eyes, to the burn scars that cover half of his face and body. I recall the way he pushed his black-framed rectangular glasses up his nose and the sense of déjà vu it incited. I think of the conversation we shared in the tunnel near the command center, his antagonism toward Cami, toward me. I concentrate intently on what I know of him and try again.

“Locate Smith.”