"I'm not just poor. I'm an unclaimed minor. I live on the streets, on the floors of abandoned buildings. I eat scraps."

I didn't look at his face; I didn't need to. I felt tension fill the car like a poisonous gas. I continued before fear could lock my mouth shut.

"I needed money for my sick brother. He's only seven. So I signed up at this place, Prime Destinations. We all call it the body bank. I was a donor, renting out my body to a senior named Helena Winterhill. It's her house, her car, her life. She wanted to stop your grandfather from going through with the deal with Prime Destinations. I thought she was crazy but it turned out she was right, that the plan's even worse than she imagined."

I rattled on, telling him everything, probably much too fast. He let me talk, never interrupting me. I left out one thing. I didn't mention Helena's plan to shoot his grandfather. Now that she was gone, I wasn't about to unload that on him. This was a major info dump as it was. Why worry him over something that was no longer an issue?

When I finished, I turned to him. He was still looking at me, and his expression wasn't full of disgust, the way I had imagined. He did look solemn, though, and was totally silent. The waiting was torture. My throat went dry waiting for him to say something. Finally, he spoke.

"This is so ... I don't know what to say."

"Do you believe me?" I asked.

"I want to."

"But you don't."

"It's just kind of a shock, you know?"

I pushed aside the hair on the back of my head and showed him the plate that Redmond had placed there. It felt like the most personal part of my body to expose, even more so than any private parts. This is me, I was saying to him. This is who I've become.

"Under that plate, that's where my chip is."

He didn't say anything. I lifted my head and smoothed back my hair.

"If you could convince your grandfather to renege on this partnership between the government and Prime ... if you can show him how awful this will be, how it's sending these unclaimed minors to their deaths, wouldn't he want to take it back?" I blurted out, daring to hope I could have it all, the truth and Blake.

There was a slim chance that the senator didn't understand what Prime had in mind. Maybe he didn't know about the permanency factor.

Blake didn't say a word. He seemed lost in thought, troubled.

"Blake?"

He wiped his hand over his face. "I'll talk to him. No, wait, you talk to him. You can explain this better than I can."

"Really?"

"Tomorrow. It's Saturday, he'll be at the ranch. Come over before lunch. He's a lot easier to talk to there. It's his favorite place."

"He's not going to listen to me. He hates me."

"We'll do this together. He'll listen to me. I'm his grandson." He rubbed my hand. "All we can do is try." He looked thoughtful. I could see he was still processing this new way of seeing me.

We ate our meal in silence, and then Blake drove me back to my car at the other side of the lot.

"See you tomorrow," he said.

"Tomorrow."

He kissed me goodbye. It wasn't like before. It carried the burden of my lies, which separated our lips like a layer of wax. I got out and he drove off. It felt as if a thousand-pound weight were pushing my feet into the ground.

I got into my car and locked the doors. When I had gone to the restroom earlier, I had spoken to one of the Ender guards. I told him I was going to catnap in my car for a few hours and would appreciate it if he'd keep an eye on me. As I slipped him several large bills, he said he was happy to.

I woke up around six a.m., with the sun in my eyes. I raised the seat back up to the normal driving position and ran my tongue across my teeth. I felt the back of my head where the plate was. It was throbbing in a nasty reminder of how it had betrayed me to Blake. I swallowed two of Redmond's painkillers.

The new phone was blinking. A zing had come in from Lauren.

Lauren was still in Reece's fabulous body, her long red hair glistening in the morning sun. "Tell me you have some good news, Helena. I've learned nothing about Kevin."

She inserted a card key into a gate, letting us into a small private park near her home in Beverly Hills. I was apprehensive about meeting so close to the body bank, but in addition to being gated, the park was also guarded.

"People have seen him, even spoken to him, but no one's spotted him in the last month," she said.

I knew I had to clear up who I was right away. I wasn't going through the torture of indecisiveness again.

"I'm not Helena," I said.

Lauren continued to talk, my words not registering at all. I had to interrupt her.

"Listen to me. I'm not Helena."

Her mouth opened. She folded her arms. "What are you saying?"

"I'm the donor. The body Helena rented. I'm really sixteen."

"Wait. When I spoke to Helena, she was in that body." She gestured at me.

"You were talking to me then. I was at Club Rune and at the Thai restaurant."

"That was you?" Her eyes flashed at me. "What happened to Helena?"

I felt my heart sink as I was forced to recall Helena's last moments. "She's gone."

"She's dead? Helena's dead?" She put her hands on my shoulders and shook me. "What did you do to her?"

"Easy, I didn't do anything." The armed guard looked our way. "It was someone at the body bank, at Prime."

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"Then how do you know she's dead?"

"I heard her screams in my head."

"You what?"

"Helena had the chip altered. By the end, I could hear her thoughts in my head. We were able to communicate."

Lauren let go of me with a shove. "I can't believe it. I knew her for eighty-five years." She took out a hanky and wiped away angry tears. "And now she's gone."

"I'm sorry. I was getting to know her myself."

"How dare you say that!"

"I learned a lot from her," I said.

"About what?"

"About the senator. The Old Man."

She turned away. "I can't do this. I can't look at you. You lied. You let me think you were her. And now I find out she was dead all along."

"No, it's not like that. It just happened."

"Why isn't anyone who they seem to be anymore?" she said through gritted teeth.

I looked at her, hiding in that teen body. I didn't dare remind her that I could say the same thing about her.

"At least ...," I said, "I believe Kevin is alive." I thought bringing up good news about her grandson might soften her.

"How would you know that?"

"Because the Old Man is going to let subscribers do more than just rent-they're going to be able to buy the bodies. My guess is that they've been testing this already. That would explain the missing teens, with no signs of struggles, no bodies."

A flicker of hope danced across her eyes. Then she scowled.

"You don't know anything. How can I trust anything you say? You're wearing Helena's jewelry, driving her car. Have you no shame?"

"I want to help her."

"You can't help a dead woman. You can't help anyone."

She turned and walked away.

"Lauren." She didn't turn around. "Or is it Reece?" I shouted.

She kept walking.

I stood there shaking. I'd thought she'd help me; she was Helena's friend. She was the only one I could talk to about the missing teens.

The guard stared at me. He put his hand over the gun on his hip and started walking toward me. I had been a guest of homeowner Lauren in this private park, and now that she was gone I had no reason-or permission-to be here.

I headed for the gate.

I pushed it open and ran out, letting it slam behind me. Just as I was about to get into my car, I looked across the street and saw someone I recognized.

Michael.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

I ran across the street, dodging cars and bikes, waving both hands, but he didn't notice me.

"Michael!" I shouted, chasing after him as he walked away. "Michael, wait!" I ran up behind him and poked his back. "It's me."

He turned. The sight of his face warmed me. I hadn't realized how much I had missed that long blond hair, those soft eyes. He smiled, and my shoulders melted.

"Wow, you look great," I said, touching his expensive-looking jacket.

"So do you." He looked me over, undressing me with his eyes. "What's your name?"

The voice was Michael's, but the words weren't. I stared at his perfect face, his mouth, his eyes, his nose. No sun freckles or moles, no street-fight cuts. Just flawless skin and pricey clothes.

A chill ran through my veins.

This wasn't Michael. It was a rental.

Some Ender had rented his body. He hadn't waited like he'd promised. He'd gone through with it before I was finished.

"Who are you?" I asked, trembling.

"Hey, I'm a sixteen-year-old stud. Like what you see?" He held his arms out and spun around 360 degrees. "Pretty cute, huh?"

My breathing started getting faster. I couldn't control it. I grabbed his fancy jacket in my fists.

"Hey, easy," he said. "That's real Russian alpaca."

"I don't care if it's from Mars. How long have you had this body?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

I pulled him closer, tugging hard, making it hard for him to breathe. "If you're going to lie, do it with your own wrinkly mouth. How long?"

"I just got it." His voice came out hoarse. "I just came out of Prime."

I released him. I couldn't risk attracting so much attention. Already Enders were turning their heads.

He straightened his jacket. "And I paid plenty for this body," he said, his voice low. "So that makes it mine."

The guard in the park across the street stared at us through the gate.

"You better take good care of it," I said.