He tips my chin up so that our eyes meet. "You'll be fine. Just . . ." His serious expression morphs into a smile. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have the most amazing eyes?"

I blush and look away.

"No fair! I say you have gorgeous eyes and you take them away from me."

"You're trying to distract me," I say. But I look back up.

"Yes, I am. Doesn't mean it's not true." He traces the edge of my lip with his thumb. "And you started it. What I was saying before you distracted me is that you'll be fine. Just stick to the plan. We'll get through this."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

For the next half hour, I sit in the far corner of the waiting room and answer questions from a Maryland State Police officer. I give her our prearranged nuggets of truth. I try not to elaborate or throw in any extra details that might trip me up or contradict the story that Deo is telling a second officer on the other side of the waiting area.

But I'm really tired. So tired that I almost wish it was Dacia sitting here and I could just stick out my arm and say go ahead. Grab it. Find the answers your own damn self.

I suspect the officer can tell I'm not being entirely honest, but we go through several grueling repetitions of the same basic drill. She has a lot of questions about other people at the facility, which she keeps referring to as a cell. I think at first that she means a single room, like a jail cell, but then it becomes clear that she means it in the other sense-like a terrorist cell. What languages did I hear? Did I see any of their faces? Could I identify any of them?

Somewhere in the middle of the second iteration a small blonde woman rushes in. All of the Quinns get up to greet her. Must be Aaron's mom. Porter follows behind her, his arm in a sling. He looks around the room and gives me a worried smile.

". . . head? Anna?" The officer snaps her fingers in front of my face. "Are you still with me?"

"Oh, sorry. I think I need more coffee. Could you repeat the question?"

Finally, the officer hands me her card, saying I should call her if anything else comes to mind. And then she adds that someone from Bartholomew House will retrieve me and Deo within the next few hours.

I manage to smile and tell her that's good. That it will be nice to get home. But all I can think is, here we go again. The exit sign over the door-nice to be back in a building that actually has exit signs-is practically shouting my name, and my mind starts whirring as I try to map out the details. I still have the keys to the Grapemobile in my back pocket. There's no way I would keep it, but it will get us to Kelsey's beach house. I still have the code to get in. I'm guessing Kelsey's car is still there, but maybe we should take the bus.

In fact, maybe I should start back at square one, since driving is now on my verboten-list.

The other officer seems to have finished with Deo. Kelsey demanded to sit with him while they talked, claiming in loco parentis status. Which they accepted, probably because she actually is a formal member of his "team," but I'm guessing the fact that they didn't want to wait on a Bart House employee to arrive also played a pretty big role in their decision-making.

The police move on to Aaron and Taylor. Deo sits there for a moment, leaning forward, head in his hands. Then he shakes it off and heads down the hall, away from the waiting room.

I start after him, but Kelsey holds me back.

"Give him some space, Anna."

She's right. And this is a public place, police coming in and out on a regular basis. No one is likely to snatch him away in a busy hospital. But it's going to be a while before I'm comfortable letting him out of my sight.

I grab a drink from the Au Bon Pain bag. Then I drop down into one of the sage-green chairs next to Kelsey. The entire building, or at least what I've seen of it, is decorated in muted natural tones-beige, pale greens, wood floors. While calm colors are probably a good call for a shock-and-trauma waiting room, they're also the decorating equivalent of Ambien for the sleep deprived. And personally, I don't find them calming. The colors are a constant reminder that I saw this place in my mind an hour before I walked in the door.

"Deo stuck to the script, if that's what you're wondering. But anyone could see something's bothering him. I pointed out that he was held captive for several days and recently witnessed a shooting. That he's in shock. And I think that's true."

"Did he tell you they injected him?"

"Yes, but he made light of it. Said he only mentioned it because it was worrying you. Do you think it's the same compound they were using on the girls who were trafficked?"

"I don't know. I hope not. But Molly said Dacia was injected numerous times, so . . . even if it is, maybe one dose won't be a problem. Hopefully Sam will know someone who can analyze the vial I took from the lab. Or maybe take a blood sample from Deo to see if there are any markers or whatever. Not sure what we can do about it, but it would be nice to know."

"Okay. Enough about Deo. How are you?"

I'm not sure where to start. We could spend weeks unpacking the past few days, and I'd still have more to say. So I settle for a very general overview.

"And that's why Cregg was after you? Because you can absorb their gifts, too?"

"Yeah. I'm just glad the other three left. I . . . I don't think I was in control. Although . . ."

I flash back to the lab, when I was standing with a fire extinguisher cocked like a bat, hurling words I didn't understand at Deo. The Furies would have bashed Deo's head in without thinking twice, but I managed to shove them back. To redirect their anger at Lucas, which is really what they wanted anyway.

And did they do anything to Cregg and Lucas that I wouldn't have done if I'd known I had the ability? I don't think so.

"Maybe I wasn't entirely out of control, but it was close. The remaining hitcher, Jaden, isn't so bad, although his visions aren't exactly convenient."

"And the dreams from Molly?"

"I'm handling them."

Kelsey's arched eyebrow suggests she's not entirely buying it, but she drops the subject. "Aaron seems nice. Are you having sex?"

I nearly choke on my orange juice. "For a psychoanalyst, you have an appalling lack of subtlety. Where did you even get that idea?"

"Something Aaron's sister said earlier. He turned fifty shades of red and told her to mind her own business. And your eyes strayed in his direction when I mentioned the dream. Plus, it's obvious you're attracted to him."

I've talked to Kelsey about sex before, but that was in her office. I mean, when you're six and you pick up the memories of an adult, some general discussion of sex is going to come up. But there's no way I'm discussing my feelings for Aaron when he's right across the room.

"I'm attracted to him. But . . . so was Molly. We have a lot of things to sort out." Kelsey seems like she's about to say something else, so I quickly switch topics. "Porter looks much better."

"Yes, thank heaven." She sighs. "Two shootings in less than a week. I hope Daniel is as lucky."

"Me, too." I try to keep the doubt out of my voice, but I remember the blood soaking through my sweater from Daniel's wound. How much I rinsed off in the sink at the rest area.

Kelsey squeezes my hand. "Daniel is about forty years younger than Porter. And this hospital is one of the best in the nation. He'll pull through."

"I hope so." I stare down at the floor, screwing up my courage. "The thing is, I knew, Kelsey."

She frowns. "Knew what?"

"I saw us running in one of Jaden's visions. At the very end, I realized it was Daniel, not Cregg. But I couldn't warn Deo. I couldn't keep myself from yelling for him to go faster. From saying I thought it was Cregg behind us, even though part of my brain knew it was Daniel. Jaden says that's just how the visions work. Whatever you saw happen, that's what happens. I forgot about Deo having the gun. It wasn't in the vision. And once I reached that part of the vision in real life, the words just wouldn't form in time. If they had, Deo would never have shot Daniel. That's why I was going after Deo. He's kicking himself for something that's not really his fault."

"Well, I'm not surprised." Kelsey's mouth does this thing, where it kind of squinches up on one side. I've seen it dozens of times, and it means she's about to hit me with some insight that's almost certainly right but isn't what I want to hear. "You've given him an excellent role model."

"What?"

"You're doing it right now. Blaming yourself for something over which you have no control. Trying to shoulder all of the responsibility. He's not a child anymore-"

"I know."

"Then let him take some responsibility for his actions."

"But it wasn't-"

"If you only see what happens, if you can't change it, then the vision is irrelevant. The mistake you made was thinking the man chasing after you was Cregg. The mistake Deo made was firing the gun based on that information. He was terrified that Cregg might get into his head again. Make him turn the gun on himself or even on you. And he made a very understandable mistake, as you did. If you want to help Deo get through this, let him own his mistake."

"And if Daniel dies? That's a big mistake for a fifteen-year-old kid to own."

"So you should take on both halves? With everything else you have on your . . ." She stops, probably because my attention is now elsewhere.

Ashley's here. She stands in the middle of the corridor, eyes darting nervously.

"Ashley?"

"Anna." She doesn't seem surprised that we made it out. "I'm looking for Daniel. Is he okay?"

"His condition was just upgraded to serious. You'd know what that means better than I do. All I know is that he lost a lot of blood."

"What happened?" Her eyes are red and swollen, and her hands work nervously at the strap of the purse on her shoulder. She seems on the verge of even more tears. That makes me wonder if Taylor's assessment that Daniel was seeing someone wasn't correct after all. Ashley looks way too upset to simply be checking up on a coworker, even if they were also coconspirators. "Is he conscious? Can I see him?"

Her volume rises with each question. Several other people in the waiting room give her an annoyed glare before going back to their books, naps, or iPads.

"I'm so sorry." Kelsey is using her soft voice, the one she seems to slip into naturally when someone is in emotional distress. "It's only immediate family right now, but when they get back, they might be able to put in a special request for you to see him. Why don't you sit down over here? Anna, could you get . . . ?" She pauses, waiting for me to fill in the name.

"Ashley," I say. "Ashley Swinton."

Ashley physically startles. I have no clue why my remembering her last name sets her off, but it obviously does.

"Could you get Ashley something to drink, Anna?"

"Sure. I'll be right back."

Whoa, she's freakin' out. I did not know she and Daniel had a thing.

Why would you?

Jaden laughs.

The morning after you arrived, Maria took great pleasure in telling all the guys in the place that the new blonde on the Highside wasn't going to be impressed with their sorry asses 'cause she had a thing for someone on the outside. But . . . Ashley might just be upset about her sister. Maybe she was one of the wabbits they decided not to transport. I think I'd believe that before I'd believe Maria missed a hookup between two Fudds.

Aaron shoots a questioning look over the officer's shoulder. I don't know if it's because I'm standing here, spaced and blushing, or because he's wondering about Ashley. Either way, I can't really answer him.

Ashley mumbles a thank-you when I give her the water, but her eyes keep shooting over to the police talking to Aaron and Taylor.

"I'm glad you escaped before the fire got out of control. I never got a chance to really thank you for helping me when Lucas-"

"You thanked me already." Her tone makes it clear that she really, really doesn't want to discuss it, and I'm actually okay with that.

"Do you know what happened? Was the place on fire when you left?"

"No," Ashley says, still watching the police. "I mean, yes. But it was still small. I heard on the radio . . ."

I wait for her to say something else, but she's staring ahead. At first, I think it's just a blank stare, but then a woman holding a baby gets up, and her eyes follow them.

"Were they able to evacuate the kids? I heard a helicopter-it sounded like a big one-as we were leaving. But I don't know how it could hold everyone."

"They have buses, too. The chopper was for the ones who need to be . . . contained."

"How did you get away?"

"I drove." And then she fixes me with a look that very clearly translates as shut the hell up.

So I do. We sit there for the next few minutes, mostly in silence. Kelsey speaks to Ashley a few times, and gets short but generally civil answers. Ashley seems to relax a bit when the police leave, but she tenses right back up when she realizes that means Taylor and Aaron are about to join us.

"I need to find a bathroom," she says, quickly capping the water bottle and tossing it onto the seat next to her.

"Down the hall to the . . . right." Kelsey concludes with a little huff because Ashley is already well out of earshot.

"Who was that?" Taylor asks.

"A friend of Daniel's. Ashley. She worked at The Warren. At Delphi, that is."

Ashley's long gone now, but Taylor tilts her head in that direction anyway. "Seems very upset to be just a friend."

Aaron is only half paying attention. He's looking up something on his phone. I move to sit next to him. Since Kelsey and Taylor have deemed us a couple, I might as well take advantage of it.

"What are you looking for?"

"Just . . . picked up on a few things when he was taking my statement. Nothing concrete, but . . . checking to see if CNN or one of the local stations-hold on. Holy . . ."

He clicks the link. A reporter is in the foreground. Off in the distance is the building Deo and I were in. Fire blazes from every opening. Two of the other buildings in the courtyard are also in flames, and smoke pours from the windows of a third.

"Firefighters from five neighboring counties struggle to contain a baffling fire in the sleepy river town of Port Deposit, Maryland. For the second time in five years, fire has swept through Memorial Hall, the one-hundred-and-seventeen-year-old building directly behind me. Once part of a prestigious private campus, the Tome School buildings were purchased by the federal government during the mobilization for World War II, as part of the Bainbridge Naval Training Center. The historic buildings you see here are pretty much all that remain. Local authorities attributed the 2014 fire to teenage arsonists, but some are questioning that conclusion today with the discovery that these fires actually began underground. Gunshots were also reported earlier this evening, and at least one person captured video of a military-style helicopter touching down nearby sometime after midnight.

"The Department of Homeland Security is on the scene, and an unofficial source has confirmed that a terrorist organization was operating out of this abandoned, underground government facility. Authorities have been following reports that Franco Lucas, a suspect in the murders of several local women over the past few years, was operating a human trafficking ring in neighboring Harford County. The speculation now is that he may have been using that ring and other illegal activities to fund the group. The source had no comment on whether they have Lucas in custody. There was also no comment on whether the fire was set by the terrorist group itself, or by the government in an effort to . . . well, smoke them out."

The image goes back to the news desk, with an inset screen of the reporter at the scene on his right.

"Thank you, Vince. Do we have any word yet on the nature of the terrorist group? Is this a foreign threat or domestic?"

"No word yet, John, but rest assured that there will be updates on this breaking story throughout the day."

The fire disappears and is replaced by a woman in a red suit who looks appallingly chipper for 5:15 in the morning.

"News of a potentially massive terror cell less than seventy miles from the nation's capital . . . less than a year from the presidential election? Let's check in with our political correspondent, Cindy Barr."