I’m not sure, but I know something has to change…and maybe that’s Anora’s anonymity, even if I don’t trust what Roth’s planning for the Eurydice. At least the Order has the final say and might be able to help her.

“Shouldn’t you be a little more discerning now that you’re a tracker?” Natalie glares at the green threads on my suit. “Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“No one gets promoted before training, Shy. Not even you. I’d think real hard about why Roth wants you as a tracker. Real. Hard.”

The thing is, I have been thinking real hard about it, and it bothers me just as much as Anora’s absence. A shrill cry sends my heart beating in my chest, until I realize it’s my phone.

Good thing I’m not hunting darklings tonight.

Fumbling, I pull it out of my pocket and answer.

“Yes?” My voice sounds more like a hiss than anything else.

“Shy, where are you?” I can hear the tap, tap, tap of Jacobi’s fingers against the keyboard. It sounds like heavy rain on the window.

“Home.” I would tell him the truth, but Jacobi’s on probation, and he would want to join us.

“Liar. You’re outside, 222 Foley… Isn’t that the new girl’s house?”

I pause a moment. “How did you know?”

“I traced your phone.” His voice is tinged with humor. Of course. Ever the tech, ever the hacker. The tempo of his fingers continues at a steady pace. “Just in case you were wondering, hanging out outside a girl’s house is no way to make her like you.”

“Uh, first, Nat’s here with me, and second, we were appointed—”

“To stalk her. I know,” he says.

“What do you want, Jacobi?” I ask quickly, in no mood for his commentary.

“I thought you’d want to know, I pinged Lily’s cell phone.”

My chest feels like it’s collapsed. I hadn’t even thought about Lily’s phone. I assumed it was with her body.

“And?”

“It hasn’t been used since Sunday,” he says. That was the day before she died. “And she was all over the place that day. School, the lake, June’s…”

“You said you tracked it, which I assume means it’s not at her house,” I say, growing impatient. “So where is it now?”

“The train yard.”

“What was she doing there?”

Jacobi’s still typing. “I mean, we used to hang out there when we were still friends with—”