They’d done thisbeforeI was taken.
She’d been prepped ahead of time.
They’d planned for me.
The edges of my vision wavered. I pressed a hand against the cold wall of the pen, steadying myself as the timeline rearranged in my head. They hadn’t gotten lucky when they snatched me—they’dscheduledit. Somewhere, weeks ago, on a whiteboard or a shared server, someone had drawn up the procedure to build a fake of me, and someone else had signed off on it.
They’d carved a girl to fit my facein advance.
My stomach twisted. It wasn’t improvisation. It was strategy.
And if they’d done all this before I even vanished...how long had they been watching me? Studying me? Measuring my bones, cataloging my scars, scanning my face from angles I never even saw myself in?
A cold, nauseating certainty settled over me.
They didn’t just want what was in my head.
They wanted toreplaceme.
A soft click echoed through the room. Voss had pulled something small and sleek from his back pocket—chrome edges,dark glass, about the size of a phone. He tapped the screen once with a fingertip, and the Hollow girl’s posture sharpened like a puppet yanked upright.
“What is that?” I said, voice low, even though I already knew.
A smaller sized version of Marek’s tablet—pocket-sized.
He gave the Hollow girl a slow once-over, then turned his shark grin back on me.
“I’ve got to say,” he went on in a cultured, European accent. “Seeing you two together? Bit of a kink unlocked. I’ve always liked twins. Though”—he flicked the module again, scrolling menus—“I can never decide if I prefer watching them make out or fight.”
My blood iced.
Marek stepped forward, finally. “Mr. Voss, this is completely unnecessary.”
“You’reunnecessary,” Voss said, without even looking at him. “You thinkyouget to decide how my assets are tested?”
“She’s the prototype?—”
“Which means she should be the best, no?” he said, his tone bright. “So let’s see what happens when she has to defend herself.”
The Hollow girl turned to me.
Her eyes were still empty. She was far past wherever they’d taken Sophia; there was nobody home.
But she was still aperson.And she hadn’t consented to this.
I raised my hands and backed up. “Please—don’t do this. She’s not—she’s not in control.”
“I warned you,” Voss murmured, amused, and the Hollow lunged.
I dodged, barely. She was faster than me—she hadn’t been skipping meals in a pathetic attempt to protest her situation. She was stronger, too; I could feel it in the air displacement as herfist passed my ear. This wasn’t a sparring match. This was an execution.
I stumbled over a chair bolted to the floor and hit the side of my pen.
“She’s not my enemy!” I screamed.
“She isnow,” Voss replied. “And if you don’t start fighting back, she’s going to kill you with her bare hands.”
The Hollow charged again.
