As he stands, he kisses my cheek. His beard tickles my skin. His citrusy scent—lime and blood orange blended with amber, according to the soap bottle I snuck a look at when I used the bathroom earlier—seeps into me, loosening the band of tension wrenched tightly around my chest.
I watch him as he crosses the living room; a space similar in size and shape to the one I’m staying in, but without all the cozy decorations. The furniture consists of a giant sectional couch with recliners on either end, a plain glass coffee table, and an enormous TV that takes up half the wall. There are a few scattered photos of his family on either side of it, but none from his time in the Army, so unlike the collection of old pictures my dad saved.
Maybe he’s not ready to put them out yet, I consider.
Maybe they were too hard to look at.
Maybe they reminded him of all the things he lost.
Maybe the photos are just waiting for the right time to come out again. Maybe they’re stored in a box in the closet or under his bed, along with the graduation cap I gave him.
I still can’t believe he kept it.
But thoughts of photos and graduation caps disappear as soon as Rafe and Tyler walk into the apartment. They both look solemn. Almost grim.
My stomach makes a daring leap into my throat. The few potato chips I ate threaten to make a reappearance.
They follow Indy over to the couch, where they each take a seat in one of the recliners. Indy sits back down beside me and rubs my back. “It’s going to be okay. Don’t look so scared.”
I shoot him anare you kidding melook, and he flushes a little. “Sorry. Stupid thing to say.”
Tyler hands a small box to me. I open it to find my implants sitting atop a cushion of bubble wrap. The sight of them is both comforting and frightening.
Once my gaze lifts to Tyler’s, he says, “They’re safe to use, Bea. And they should work fine.”
My hand twitches towards them. But there’s that niggling fear of thatvoicecoming back again.
But he says it’s safe. And while I haven’t known Tyler long, he’s never given me reason not to trust him. I mean, he arranged for Indy to break into the hospital, hacking into the security and the electrical system to do it. And if Indy trusts him…
So I put one on, then the other.
For one silent moment, I hold my breath.
Then Indy says, “Are they working, Bea?”
There.
That rumbly voice. The one I never forgot.
“Yes.” I adjust my hair around them. “They’re working.”
He rubs my arm. His eyes meet mine. “Do you need me to get your phone? So you can adjust the settings?”
“I have it,” Tyler volunteers. He slides the plain black smartphone from his pocket and hands it over. “I double-checked everything to make sure it’s completely secure.”
Even though it’s not my old phone—the one with a shimmery blue case and aHearing Health Foundationsticker on the back of it—the solid weight in my hand is still a comfort.
Indy glares at the phone, as if it’s somehow responsible for what happened earlier in the kitchen. Then he loops his arm around my waist and draws me closer to him before asking Tyler, “How do we know it’s safe? If Bea’s implants were hacked…” He stops. “Were they hacked? I can’t think of another way?—”
“They were.” Tyler’s gaze moves from Indy’s to mine. Guilt pinches his features. “Bea. I’m sorry. I should have thought… This is my fault.”
“It’s not.” Rafe jumps in. “The odds?—”
“How is ityourfault?” Indy asks. While he doesn’t sound angry exactly, there’s a definite edge to his voice.
Tyler frowns. “When Bea first arrived, I paired the implants with the secure phone, and I accessed the manufacturer’s databases to remove Bea’s user information from there. But.” He grimaces. “I screwed up. I didn’t consider the possibility of someone using her old phone to connect to the implants.”
“But don’t the police have my phone?” I ask. A beat later, horror hits me as I realize what I said. “But if they do, and they can access my implants, does that mean they can find me? I never thought about it before. But if I’m connected to the phone, and someone can trace the signal…”
