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I take a shallow breath, my stomach giving another warning twist.

“And after her episode aired, she had to spill the rest. She knew I was already listening. So she told me. It was in confidence. And for the record? She’d never tell anyone else. Neither would I. I’m…” I look away, back to the blurring trees. “I’m sorry. I should have told you. I just didn't know how to start that conversation without sounding like I’d been dissecting you under a microscope.”

“You do realize,” he says, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, “that you’ve now made this significantly more interesting for me.”

“I don’t see how.”

Baryn keeps his eyes on the road, but the amusement in his voice is unmistakable. “It’s about the exchange of intelligence, Serena. I assume she’s given you a comprehensive list of my flaws.”

He glances at me, his eyes dancing. “And now I plan to level the playing field. I’ve been debating how to get past that infuriatingly cool exterior you hide behind. I think a call to Lila is in order. I’m going to trade something she can’t resist for a comprehensive list of your secrets.”

I glance at him. “You’re enjoying this a little too much. Lila warned me you would, which is another reason I didn’t say anything.”

“Immensely,” he admits.

I shake my head, but the conversation feels easier. “Good freaking luck getting anything out of her about me.”

My stomach lurches again, a little harder this time. I press my lips together, breathing out through my nose.

I am fine. I tell myself. It’s the drive. It’s the stress of being caught.

I sit up straighter, forcing my diaphragm to settle.

It’s all in my head.

Oakhaven Detention Center appears on the horizon as a collection of low concrete buildings surrounded by enough razor wire to make the intended message difficult to misinterpret.

The perimeter rises in successive layers, chain link topped with tight silver coils that catch in the floodlights with an almost decorative sparkle. There are cameras mounted at regular intervals, narrow windows set too high to see through, and a guard tower positioned to observe the parking lot and the entrance.

Before we ever reach the parking lot, we stop at a gatehouse built into the outer perimeter. Baryn lowers his window and hands over both our IDs to the officer inside. There’s a brief exchange, a glance at a clipboard, and then a laminated visitor pass is slid back through the window.

No questions, no phone call to verify our arrival.

As it turns out, bribery is an effective way to get things done.

The barrier arm lifts, and Baryn drives us through, pulling into a space close to the entrance and cutting the engine.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Fine.” I’m already reaching for the door. I need air. I need the world to stop moving.

I step out of the car. The ground isn't level. It’s pitching like a ship at sea. I take one step toward the entrance, my eyes fixed on the automatic doors, but halfway there, the bottom drops out from under me.

The nausea isn't a suggestion anymore. It’s a command.

I turn sharply, barely making it to the bushes before I heave. It’s violent. It’s public. It’s the ultimate loss of control. I brace one hand against the rough brick of the building, my eyes watering, my throat burning.

Behind me, I hear footsteps approaching.

“Serena?”

I straighten slowly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand—a gesture so unhygienic it makes my skin crawl even as I do it. I don't turn around. I can't.

“I’m fine,” I croak. “Go in without me.”

“Serena.” He’s closer now. I can feel the heat radiating off him.

I turn slightly, enough to face him without fully committing to eye contact.