The more they experimented on her—the further they pushed her—the stronger and weaker she became. Her mind was able to handle the physical manipulations, but her heart couldn’t take it. Even as they built her up, they were breaking her down.
She’d lost the will to live. To fight.
She no longer had complete control over her own body; even her powers were now regulated through Max and Evie. She’d become a puppet. And the more listless she became, the more they misunderstood. Max and Evie thought Emmaline was growing compliant.
Instead, she was deteriorating.
And then—
Another scene. Emmaline hears an argument. Max and Evie are discussingme. Emmaline hasn’t heard them mention me in years; she had no idea I was still alive. She hears that I’ve been fighting back. That I’ve been resisting, that I tried to kill a supreme commander.
Emmaline feels hope for the first time in years.
I clap my hands over my mouth. Take a step back.
Emmaline has no eyes, but I feel her staring at me. Watching me for a reaction. I feel unsteady, alert but overcome.
I finally understand.
Emmaline has been using her last gasp of strength to contact me—and not just me, but all the other children of the supreme commanders.
She shows me, inside my own mind, how she’s taken advantage of Max and Evie’s latest effort to expand her capabilities. She’d never been able to reach out to people individually before, but Max and Evie got greedy. In Emmaline they laid the foundation for their own demise.
Emmaline thinks we’re the last hope for the world. She wants us to stand up, fight, save humanity. She’s been slowly returning our minds to us, giving back what our parents once stole. She wants us to see the truth.
Help, she says.
“I will,” I whisper. “I promise I will. But first I’m going to get you out of here.”
Rage, hot and violent, sends me reeling. Emmaline’s anger is sharp and terrifying, and a resounding
NO
fills my brain.
I go still. Confused.
“What do you mean?” I say. “I have to help you get out of here. We’ll escape together. I have friends—healers—who can restore y—”
NO
And then, in a flash—
She fills my mind with an image so dark I think I might be sick.
“No,” I say, my voice shaking. “I won’t do it. I’m not going to kill you.”
Anger, hot, ferocious anger, attacks my mind. Image after image assaults me, her failed suicide attempts, her inability to turn her own powers against herself, the infinite fail-safes Max and Evie put in place to make sure Emmaline couldn’t take her own life, and that she couldn’t harm theirs—
“Emmaline, please—”
HELP
“There has to be another way,” I say desperately. “This can’t be it. You don’t have to die. We can get through this together.”
She bangs her open palm against the glass. Tremors rock her emaciated body.
Already
