Like he was seeing something no one else had noticed.
I pushed the thought away. I didn't have time for it.
Chapter twenty-three
The security increase happened overnight.
I noticed it the moment I approached the Healing Center the next morning—new checkpoints, additional guards, identification protocols that hadn't existed twenty-four hours ago. Staff members moved through the corridors with their heads down, speaking in whispers, avoiding eye contact.
Fear. The whole building reeked of it.
"Badge, please." The guard at the east wing entrance was new. Young. His hand hovered near his weapon like he expected something to leap out of the walls.
"I'm on the approved list," I said. "Lumi. Check with Ms. Whitaker."
"I need to verify." He fumbled with his tablet. "New protocols. Everyone gets verified."
I waited while he confirmed what I already knew. Through the bond, I could feel Stone—restless, agitated, aware that something had changed. The increased security presence was putting pressure on all the ferals. I could sense it in the way the air felt heavier as I moved deeper into the wing.
The guard finally waved me through. I didn't thank him.
Rae intercepted me before I reached Stone's room.
"We need to talk," she said. Her voice was low. Controlled. But I could see the strain around her eyes.
"What's happening? Why all the new security?"
"Cole's preliminary report." Rae glanced down the corridor, checking for listeners. "He hasn't submitted his final recommendations yet, but he flagged the facility as 'insufficiently secured' given the threat level of the subjects."
"The threat level." I felt my jaw tighten. "He watched Stone collapse from exhaustion. That's the threat he's worried about?"
"The council is nervous. After his tour, after what he observed..." Rae shook her head. "They're taking precautions."
"Precautions against what? Against me?"
Rae didn't answer. Which was answer enough.
Ivy found me in the cafeteria at lunch.
I wasn't eating—just pushing food around my plate, trying to convince myself I had an appetite. The dining hall buzzed with normal conversation around me, students complaining about exams and gossiping about weekend plans. Normal life. The kind I barely remembered living.
"Hey." Ivy dropped into the seat across from me. Her expression was serious. Worried. "You look like death."
"Thanks."
"I'm not joking, Lumi." She leaned forward, studying my face with the kind of attention that made me want to look away. "When's the last time you slept? Actually slept?"
"I sleep."
"For how long? An hour? Two?" She shook her head. "I've been watching you disappear for weeks. Missing classes. Missing meals. Coming back to the room at weird hours looking like you've been crying."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You're the opposite of fine." Ivy reached across the table and grabbed my hand. Her grip was firm. Insistent. "I don't know what's going on with you. I know you can't tell me—or won't tell me—and I'm trying to respect that. But something feels wrong. Really wrong. And I'm scared for you."
I looked at her. At my roommate, my friend, the person who had been trying to take care of me even when I made it impossible.
"I'm scared too," I admitted.
