A Thousand Pieces of You

“Marguerite’s selling herself short.” Theo smiles sideways at me, an expression gentler than usual. Sometimes I forget how kind he can be beneath all the attitude. “She’s not a scientist, but she’s incredibly talented. An artist, in more ways than one.”

Conley nods. “That’s right. Portraits, isn’t it? Maybe I should get you to paint me someday.”

Two months ago, that suggestion would have been the most exciting idea possible. A painting of Wyatt Conley? That would turn me into a nationally recognized portraitist overnight. Now I have different priorities.

Then again—I’ve always believed that a portrait shows the truth. (I hear in my mind, You always, always paint the truth.) If Conley sat for me for a few hours, and I painted what I truly saw there, maybe I’d learn exactly what kind of man he is.

“That would be amazing.” I smile when I say it, bright and girlish. That’s what he expects from me, right?

Conley chuckles. “I like a young woman who knows a golden opportunity when she sees it. Now, Theo, are you set up for the final-level Mercury tests?”

“Absolutely,” Theo says, doing a great job of acting like he knows what that is. Or maybe he read about it on this Theo’s computer and is about to bluff his way through a whole lot of tech jargon.

At that moment, my phone buzzes inside the pocket of my skirt. I step away from Theo and Conley with the usual apologetic text message—what can you do? shrug. They keep talking while I take up my phone, hoping desperately to hear from Paul but knowing it’s probably Angela wanting to tell me about her big New Year’s date, or Mom telling me to pick up some milk on the way home.

It’s Paul.

His message says, in its entirety: Don’t go in there.

Quickly I type back: Go in where?

Lab Eleven. You have to get out of there NOW.

A chill sweeps through me as I realize: Paul is watching us, even at this moment.

I look around, half expecting him to peer out from behind a corner, though that can’t be right. Then I notice the small mirrored semispheres up by the ceiling, evenly spaced, serving no obvious function. They’re not merely part of the ultrafuturistic decor; some of them must conceal security cameras.

Paul worked here alongside Theo for most of the past few months. He didn’t only sabotage my parents’ data—he also hacked into Triad’s internal security system, which must be one of the best in the world.

My phone buzzes in my palm again. You two didn’t run into Conley by accident. Theo’s not in danger, but you are.

When I glance at Conley and Theo, I can tell that Theo suspects nothing. He’s grinning as they talk, and Conley nods as he listens to Theo’s ideas. So far as I can tell, everything is as it should be.

I glance at the door only a few feet away, the one marked LABORATORY 11.

You have to get out now.

I type back, How else am I going to get any answers? Not from Paul, obviously. How else can I find out what Conley’s after?

Theo looks toward me, more relaxed than he’s been since we walked in. Clearly he doesn’t feel like anything has gone wrong. “Ready?”

Then my phone vibrates with one more text. I look down and read Paul’s next message:

Conley is after YOU.

“Marguerite?” Theo now looks puzzled. “You okay?”

I don’t know what to say; I don’t even know what to think.

It all comes down to this: Do I trust Paul or not?

As soon as I put it that way, I know I am not walking through that door.

“Yeah, I, um, ah—” Think fast, think fast! “It’s my friend Angela. Sorry. I borrowed a bracelet of hers that she wants back for a big date tonight.”

Conley gets this look on his face, like I’m so cute, like a GIF of baby puppies or something. I wish I could slap him. “Ah, to be eighteen again.”

“The thing is, I put it on this morning, but I don’t have it on now.” I hold up my wrist, trusting that Theo didn’t notice I wasn’t wearing a bracelet this morning. With my other hand, I drop my phone back into the pocket of my skirt. “I feel sure I had it on in the car. Can I just—I want to run down and check the lobby, maybe the car, too? Sorry, but if I’ve lost this bracelet, oh, my God, Angela will totally kill me.”

Okay, I laid on the silly-teen-girl routine a little thick at the end, but right now I need Conley to think that’s all I am. I need him to be one more of those assholes who thinks my brain couldn’t hold anything other than gossip and favorite colors of nail polish. If he believes that, he’ll let me go in the confidence that I’ll be right back.

Theo exchanges a glance with Conley and says, “Women. What are you gonna do?” I’m going to give him hell for that later, but maybe he’s realized I need to walk away. He takes his car keys from his pocket and tosses them to me. “Hurry back, all right? Oh, hey, there’s a Starbucks in the caf that delivers to the labs. They’re open today, I think. You want a latte?”

“Sounds great.” I smile at him, but the smile can’t be very convincing. Here’s hoping it only looks like I’m worried about a lost bracelet.

Even turning my back to them as I wait for the elevator is excruciating. Every second I keep expecting Conley to call me back, or to feel his hand on my shoulder. Yet when the chime sounds and the doors slide open, I’m able to step in without any problems.

As soon as the elevator begins its drop, I grab my phone to see that Paul has texted again. Good job. Now get out of the building. Go somewhere safe.