“Interesting,” she says as we walk to the car.
“To say the least,” Mason mutters.
When we’re all buckled in, I ask what’s going on.
“God seems to be starting another lab.”
“Why?” I ask. “Isn’t the one in Virginia doing well?”
“It is,” Mason says. “It was custom made for the program in its current iteration. The only reason I can think that he’d want another one is…” His voice trails off, like he’s considering his words.
“What?” I ask.
Cassie lets out her breath sharply. Sometimes I think she gets annoyed by how much Mason shares with me. But Mason tells me anyway.
“Expansion.”
I’m still wondering what Mason meant when Cassie knocks twice on the Holloways’ door. When Megan’s mom, Alicia, flings it open, I jump in front of my parental figures to hug her. The apartment smells like the world’s best banana muffins, and instantly, I’m calmer.
They’re halcyon muffins.
I smile at the thought of the SAT word, thinking that Matt would laugh. Then I remember our fight and eject him from my thoughts.
“Come in,” Alicia says to the three of us. “How are you?”
She’s one of those people who are so joyful that you fall in love with her instantly. Mason beams at her—sometimes I think he has a little crush—and even Cassie reciprocates when Alicia gives her a quick side hug.
“Now, where’s that Megan?” Alicia says, looking around the open-air loft.
“Did I hear my name?” calls a lowish voice, and Megan rounds the corner from behind one of the few interior walls in the apartment. In a flowery dress, with enviable white-blond locks and the thickest eyelashes I’ve ever seen, my soul sister–born a brother is beautiful. I stifle a laugh as she overplays a silly, sexy walk; she reminds me of a Slinky. I rush her and crush her with a hug.
“Hi,” I say into her pretty hair.
“Hi,” she says, squeezing me back. “How’s my girl?”
“Okay,” I say, holding on. Megan’s strong embrace reminds me a little of Matt’s, and tears pop into my eyes. Suddenly I’m crying and laughing at the same time.
Megan lets go and steps back to examine me.
“I’d say we have some catching up to do.”
I grin, so glad to be here.
twenty-six
After Megan’s first day of testing, she and I stroll through Pike Place Market. Having lived mostly in smaller cities, I experience a bit of sensory overload surrounded by the crowd, but I love it. Megan and I have a tradition of buying salted caramels from Fran’s, watching the fish throwers until it gets boring, then eating crab cakes at one of the restaurants that overlook the water.
“Can we skip the crab cakes tonight?” I ask as we turn away from the fresh catch. “I feel a little sick.”
Megan grabs my hand and pulls me out of the market toward the city. We walk the block and a half to Starbucks and don’t speak until we’re both armed with caffeine and seated at a cozy table by the window.
“You’ve never passed up a crab cake in your life,” Megan says. “What’s going on?”
“Matt asked me to steal Revive for Audrey,” I say.
Megan’s jaw drops in shock. “No.”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to do it?”
“Megan, WHAT?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I mean, why not?”
“Um, it’s seriously against the rules? I could get in major trouble. Like jail time.”
“They’d never do that,” Megan says, sipping her latte. “They’d be too afraid you’d rat out the whole program.”
“I never thought of it like that,” I admit.
“Listen, Daisy, I’m not knocking Revive or what it gave me and my mom. In fact, I’m grateful. But that doesn’t mean I have to let them brainwash me into thinking that every little move they make is right. It doesn’t mean I have to let them control me.” She holds my gaze for a few seconds. “You shouldn’t let them control you, either.”
“So, what, you think I should steal it?” I ask, nervous.
“I think you should do what you think is right, not what God tells you to do.”
The mention of God reminds me of the new lab. Expansion. Which reminds me of Case 22.
“I have to tell you something else,” I whisper.
“Ooh, juicy!” Megan says, leaning in.
Minutes later, every secret I have is out.
“We have to find Case Twenty-two,” Megan says when I’m finished. “The only way we can get the details is to ask the Convert directly.”
“How on earth do you propose we do that?” I ask. My coffee’s gone, and I’m sad about it.
“Get another one,” Megan says when she sees me eyeing my empty cup unhappily. “You’re on vacation.”
I buy a second cup and a scone and come back to the table.
“So how do you propose we find out who this person is?” I ask.
“What else do you remember about the file?” Megan asks.
“Nothing much,” I say. “I was stuck on it being the twenty-second case. I wasn’t paying too much attention to the rest. Oh—it did say the name of the relo town. It’s called Franklin, Nevada. I have no idea where that is.”
Megan types it into her phone.
“That’s because it’s barely a town,” she says. “Poor, poor kid has to grow up in a population of… oh my god, three thousand. Daisy, that’s our break. All we have to do is ask someone. It’s so small, surely anyone would notice the new family in town.”
Within minutes, my genius friend has come up with a plan to call the night desk at the local newspaper. She’ll tell whoever answers that it’s her job to do a write-up for the school website about the new family in town, but she’s so bad at journalism that she already forgot the family’s last name.
It’s so ridiculous, it works.
“That’s right, Emerson!” Megan says excitedly into the phone. “Oh, Bill, thank you so much. You have a great evening, too.”
“Now what?” I ask. “What do we do with just a last name?”
“We search Facebook, of course,” Megan says, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world.
“You should be an agent,” I say.
“That’s what David says, too,” Megan says coyly. I know she likes her handler.
“Well, he’s right,” I say. “Let’s go.”
There’s no one with the last name Emerson in Franklin on Facebook, and there are too many Emersons when we search the entire state of Nevada. I’m ready to give up when Megan calls David.
“Will you do me a favor?” she purrs into the phone. I’m a little embarrassed, but a lot curious about what she’s going to ask.
Megan pauses to listen to David.
“Of course, but this should be no big deal. See, there’s this kid I met at that online party last weekend. We bonded, and I wanted to get in touch on Facebook. The only thing is that I don’t remember the first name.”
Pause.
“Yes, totally. The last name is Emerson, in Franklin, Nevada.”