I glance at the clock and see that it’s getting later. There’s still more to tell the girls, but Annalise is staring out the window again; Brynn and Marcella are whispering to each other. Sydney meets my gaze and lifts the corner of her mouth in a sad smile.
“Another day being a girl?” she asks, motioning to my neck. And the fear floods back in, the terror of Garrett attacking me at the game.
The girls all look at me, and I don’t even have to tell them. They already know. Marcella’s expression clouds with anger, Annalise’s knuckles crack as she makes a fist at her side. She walks over to sit on the arm of my chair and points to Marcella.
“Go on,” she tells her. “Read us the next poem.”
It’s well after dinner and we’re a bit more relaxed. After raging—literal screaming into pillows—we’re ready to keep going. I’ll find Lennon Rose at the game and see what information Corris Hawkes can give me.
We decide it’s time to accelerate our plan. It’s too dangerous to stick around much longer. It’s too dangerous to let the corporation exist much longer.
Annalise called Raven, and the hacker told her she didn’t notice any kind of kill switch in her programming. She said it would be obvious, but she promises to come by tomorrow to read over the paperwork, just to make sure.
Sydney sits with me on the couch, playing a game on her phone while snacking on popcorn. Annalise is in the chair, skimming the book of poetry, and Marcella and Brynn have already gone to bed.
When the doorbell rings, Sydney looks sideways at me.
“I’m guessing it’s for you,” she says.
“Technically it’s for all of us,” I correct, but she snorts a laugh.
I head to the door and open it, my stomach fluttering slightly when I find Jackson standing there, leaning on his crutches and looking just as awful as he did at the game. But when his eyes meet mine, he pulls his lips to the side in an embarrassed smile.
“You’re home,” he says. “I thought maybe I’d show up and find the place cleaned out. I’m glad you didn’t run away.”
“Yeah, well”—I open the door more—“I figured you’d be slow on those crutches, so I could always run if I had to.”
“Fair.”
“Come on in,” I say, motioning him forward. When he walks inside, I see that Sydney is peering over the couch at him.
“Long time, gas station boyfriend,” she says. “How’s the leg?”
“Still kind of broken,” he replies. “You?”
“Same.” She smiles at him and then grabs the bowl of popcorn and heads into her bedroom.
Annalise stays behind, studying us as I lead Jackson to the couch. She holds out her hand expectantly. Jackson sits down, taking a moment to look over her scars again, before placing the papers on her open palm.
“How are you, Annalise?” he asks kindly.
“Peachy.” She begins reading the papers, but then asks if she can take them into the bedroom with her. Since I don’t know enough about our tech to understand what they say, I tell her that’s fine.
When we’re alone, I offer Jackson something to drink or something to eat, but he turns down both options.
“How’d you get here?” I ask. “I thought you flew to Connecticut.”
“I did. I have a rental car.” Jackson leans forward, resting his elbow on his uninjured leg. “Mena,” he starts. “I saw someone today, someone … someone I thought might be following me.”
“What?” I ask. “Who?”
“A girl,” he says, brow furrowed. “One of your friends, I think. The one who … The one who died.”
A cold realization slides over me. “You saw Lennon Rose,” I murmur.
His eyes widen, showing a small hint of betrayal. “You knew she was alive?” he asks. “You didn’t think to mention that? I looked for her, remember?”
“Yes,” I say. “But I didn’t know she was alive. Not until the other day.”
