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I think of that empty space where Cypress and her children disappeared into the ground and stifle a cynical laugh. Instead of grieving for Gideon and Cypress, there’s a part of me that actually envies them.

Digory wraps a hand around my arm. “I’m gonna have to insist-”

Let go of me !” I’m barely able to wrench my arm free of his grip and knock the ration bar away.

He recoils as if I struck him. A film of hurt coats his eyes. “Sorry. I’m just … worried about you. It’s getting down to the wire and … and I know how hard this must be for you … with your brother and all … ” He looks down, his fingers fidgeting, tugging on the thumb of one hand with the thumb and index finger of the other.

My anger dulls. I rest a hand on his knee and give it a squeeze. “Look, I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just … with everything that’s happened … I … ” I remember that empty space again. “I can’t believe Cypress is gone. And Gideon … ” I look back to find Digory’s eyes waiting for mine. “Besides, you have your own troubles, someone else to worry about.”

I state it as a fact, but the masochist in me is grasping for confirmation or denial of something I don’t want to be true.

Digory’s gaze is so intense I forget to breathe. “Yes,” he says at last, looking away.

Is that disgust? Regret? I can’t be sure. And it really makes no difference. Nothing will change, regardless.

He engulfs my hand in his warm palm. It feels so comforting, yet painful at the same time. His face kaleidoscopes with emotion: sadness, regret, anger, longing, all facets of the blue gems fixed on me. “Just because I have a commitment … a duty … to someone else … doesn’t mean I don’t … care … about you.”

As hard as I try to resist, I slide my hand out from underneath the shelter of his. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Digory, all your support. But as you said, we’re getting down to the wire and you need to focus on your priorities.”

I stuff my hand into my pocket, trying to rub away that lingering feel of his skin against mine, which short circuits the few remaining synapses in my brain. I try to remain nonchalant, but I’m doing all that I can to hold it together, and I’m angry at myself for feeling this way.

Digory and me-it doesn’t matter.

Cole’s my priority.

But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

I shrug. “As noble as your intentions may be, I don’t need you feeling sorry for me. You need to do what’s in your own best interest from this point on, Digory.” I pause and draw strength to spit out the rest. “That’s what I’ll be doing.”

Digory purses his lips and nods. “Fair enough. But there’s one thing you need to believe.” His eyes pin me to the spot. I can’t move. “What I feel for you. It’s not pity, Lucian. Far from it.”

My heart thunders through my chest. No. I can’t let him pull me in again. Not at this juncture. He and I … it’s just not possible … never was. I compose myself as best I can and clear my throat. “I wish I could believe you. But I don’t really believe in much of anything anymore.”

His smile overflows with sadness. “Then I guess I’ll just have to prove to you how I really feel.”

The hiss of static through the speakers shatters the moment.

Attention Recruits!

Nervous energy courses through me at the sound of Slade’s voice. I spring to my feet, brimming with anxiety and fear.

Ophelia rolls onto her back and yawns, stretching her arms out. Her eyes flutter open. “Darn! I was just having the most amazing dream-”

Her words stick when she spies Digory and me. She frowns. “Oh. You two are still here.” She sighs and climbs to her feet, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Stand by. Your next Trial shall commence momentarily.

Digory hops to his feet. I can tell he wants to say something but I look away, focusing on the image of Cypress and her kids sinking into the ground … buried … gone forever …

I shrink from the memory, reeling with vertigo as if I’m poised on the brink of a great precipice staring down at my own doom.

With so few of us remaining, this ordeal will be over soon.

My eyes flit to Digory, then back.

A thought jabs me in the gut. There’s a good chance only one of us is going to make it through this next round.

Ahead of us, a panel wooshes open, revealing a solitary metal door flanked by two small alcoves inlaid in the wall. A sign above the door says,

BIOGENETICS LABORATORY # 4

Both alcoves are empty, except for gaping holes about eight inches in diameter, ringed by tiny chasing lights trying to devour each other. The interior of each fissure gives way to unsettling darkness.

I force a swallow. What are those things?

And why are there only two of them instead of three?

Ophelia kicks dirt over the spot where Cypress and the children disappeared. I flinch. Then she cups a hand over the side of her mouth and leans in toward me.

“I hope you were able to get some sleep,” she says. “I’m feeling so rested and refreshed. I feel like I can take on anything-or anyone.” She chuckles.

Recruits Spark and Tycho. Before we begin this penultimate Trial, you will both approach the inoculation tubes flashing on either side of the gateway.

Digory and I exchange glances infested with worry. “Inoculation?” he asks the invisible Slade.

Now, Recruits.

We both shuffle ahead until we’re each standing in front of the strange openings.

I glimpse the shadow of satisfaction creeping across Ophelia’s face. There’s only one reason I can think of that Digory and I are standing where we are and she’s been left out.

This next step must be tied to the fact that the two of us are each other’s Incentives, and she isn’t.

Recruits Tycho and Spark. Both of you roll up a sleeve and place an arm inside the inoculation tubes immediately.

My entire body stiffens. The thought of placing a fingertip, let alone one of my limbs, through that impenetrable darkness terrifies me. But what choice do we really have? If we refuse, they’ll kill us on the spot. One look at Digory tells me he’s thinking the same thing.

We jam our exposed arms into the Inoculation tubes simultaneously.

Our eyes lock. I struggle to ignore the fear pressing down on my head, on my chest, trying to crush them.

Instead, I focus on the calming blue staring back at me and drowning out everything else-the cacophony of my racing heart, my ragged breaths, the tingling in my fingers. My thoughts settle into manageable anxiety. If I can just hold on a little longer, maybe it won’t be as bad as I imagined. Maybe-

Prick!

A sharp pain digs into my inner arm. Digory’s eyes flinch at that exact moment, breaking the spell.

Then the pain’s gone and we both wrench ourselves free.

Digory walks over to me. His eyes dart from the mark on my arm back to the identical one on his own, then up at me. “You good?”

I flex my biceps a couple of times, then let my arm drop to my side. “Think so. How ’bout you?”

He shrugs. “Can’t feel much of a difference.”

Ophelia scowls. “You don’t look hurt.”

I ignore her. “Maybe it’s just some kind of vaccination.”

Digory traces the pinkish patch on his own flesh. “I don’t think so.”

Recruits Tycho and Spark, you are now in compliance with regulations.

Peals of nervous laughter erupt from me, then sputter out just as quickly. “Compliance. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”