“You’re no better than The Program,” I call out, making her turn back. “You’re using fear tactics. If this fails, I want you to know I’ll do everything I can to stop you from resetting people.”
Dr. Wyatt smiles. “I’d expect nothing less from you, Tatum.”
She turns, and Marie leaves to walk her out. I suddenly think about Nathan and Foster, knowing I need to call them soon. But I don’t want to worry them yet. Hopefully the next call I make will be to tell them it’s all over. The Program and its offshoots are officially done. I can’t even imagine how good that would feel to say.
Marie comes back into the room, and I sit next to Sloane and James on the couch, Wes perched on the arm. Realm is only half-awake, and sweat has gathered on his brow and above his lip, even though he’s shivering. There’s a tug on my heart, and I look away from him.
“I meant it,” Marie says, looking at me. “The cure—I’ve found it.”
“Great,” I say, like I don’t really believe her. “Let’s have it.”
She smiles. “You’re the cure, Tatum. I’ve asserted that from the start, back when Realm found you in The Program. I didn’t understand at first, but now I do. I spoke with Luther, and I know how to find it. There’s a pattern in your memory that I have to procure, but to do that, I need equipment from the Adjustment office. We can’t do the procedure there—we could be raided. As it is, handlers are searching for you.”
I shiver, and Wes reaches out his good hand to rest it on my arm. I think we both know I might not survive the night out there.
“I’ll bring the equipment,” Marie says. “But first I have to know if you’re willing to take part in this. If you’re truly committed. It won’t be easy.”
Realm looks over at me, not urging me in either direction, and I can feel Wes ready to speak on my behalf. But I don’t need anyone to speak for me.
“How long will it take?” I ask.
“The procedure?” she asks. “Not long. But, again, I need the equipment to—”
“I’ll go with you,” Wes says, startling me. He stands up from the arm of sofa.
“No,” I say, immediately. “Why?”
“To make sure it’s not a setup,” he replies. “And to make sure she gets back here with what you need. If she disappears, then we’re all fucked anyway, right? At least I have a phone so I can call and tell you to run if I need to.”
He’s delusional if he thinks I’m okay with this. He’ll be risking his life, risking getting caught by handlers. Wes turns back to Marie.
“You got anything for the pain while we’re at it?” he asks, motioning to his shoulder. The soreness must have settled in, even if he hasn’t mentioned it.
“I do,” she says, nodding to him. “And you’re welcome to join me, Wes. I think it’s actually very smart.”
Wes turns to me, grinning. Proud to be called smart. But I don’t laugh, worried instead.
“Aw, come on,” he says, his playfulness fading. He leans in to hug me one armed. “I’ll be fine, Tate,” he whispers next to my ear, his breath warm. I close my eyes, wishing this was already over. Wishing we could just be together and forget the rest. “Let me do this,” he adds, and pulls back to look at me.
He smiles, waiting for my permission.
“Those damn dimples,” I murmur, running my finger over one. He leans in and kisses me, smiles, and then kisses me again.
When he straightens, I see him flinch at the pain, but he walks over to Marie. “For clarification,” he says. “The stuff we’re picking up—is it heavy? I’m at a bit of a disadvantage.”
“No,” Marie says. “Dr. Wyatt has already confiscated the big equipment. What’s left is travel size.”
“Lucky me,” Wes offers. He casts one more glance in my direction, and then Marie tells us they’ll return as soon as possible.
Marie and Wes leave, and the moment the door closes, Realm doubles over in the chair, clutching his stomach. He moans like he’s been holding it in this entire time; he gasps for breath. I rush to his side, and Sloane is there too.
“Fucking hurts,” Realm growls through clenched teeth, not looking at either of us.
“Let’s get you to a room,” Sloane says, helping him to his feet. “You should lie down.”
James watches, following Sloane with his eyes, waiting to see if she needs help. But there’s something else there, something beyond his worry. He softens slightly at the way she’s helping Realm.
Sloane and I walk Realm into the back of the apartment, where we find a bed with a bright-patterned quilt tucked neatly inside a small room. We ease him onto the bed, and he turns away from us on his side. He coughs out a sound, half between a cry and a moan, and we wait. Realm waves us off, and Sloane goes into the living room to be with James. I hesitate.
