Lev stared out the window as the car sped down the road. The sun was peeking over the horizon now, better illuminating the trees that loomed up on either side of the road like the car was moving through an endless sea of green.

  Teorin sat beside him, though he was asleep. He’d tried to stay awake. Lev had watched him shift, pinch his arm, fight it, but now he’d slumped against the window. Not exactly medically appropriate, but Lev understood sleep deprivation. If he started to feel worse, he’d wake Teorin.

  Lev glanced at Jeron in the rearview mirror. The man was a mystery. An unknown. Shorter than Lev by a couple inches, Jeron wasn’t someone who would’ve caught his attention walking down the street. His hair was jet black, his beard neatly trimmed, his frame lean. Add in the relaxed but fashionable sports coat and that unruffled air, and Jeron singlehandedly demolished all of Lev’s admittedly dramatic expectations.

  He didn’t even know how long the guy had been with Novem. Guessing ages without clues was useless. Jeron looked over forty, but that didn’t mean much. He could’ve been fifty, eighty—maybe older.

  What Lev did know was that Jeron cared about Teorin. He kept glancing back with quiet concern. Was their relationship just business? But Jeron didn’t seem like one to soften on his underlings that way.

  He also wasn’t particularly talkative. Or maybe he just didn’t like Lev. That would be fair.

  Lev shifted slightly, and the pain flared up again. He gritted his teeth, shoving the memories back. The itching had receded after the walk with Teorin. Heidi’s command that Teorin stay in contact had practically been a godsend, but now he was back to fighting the memories.

  He just wanted Kara back. He hated just… hoping that it would work out, but what else was he supposed to do?

  And what if she was hurt?

  Lev flinched. He didn’t want to imagine Kara in his state, despised that image. She was fine, right? They needed her. Even if those people didn’t mess around, Kara was smart. The only real reason to take her was for what she knew, but still…that left a lot of wiggle room.

  Their leads were so thin: a name on a plane ticket and Teorin’s hunch that his brother was involved. Nothing about it inspired confidence. And that just led Lev back to the beginning of the chain.

  He was running in circles in his mind. He wanted to be running in the woods outside, then he could breathe and think. If he could just move…

  Lev shifted in his seat, and the seatbelt dug into his chest. He held back a yelp of pain.

  Breathe. Just breathe.

  He swallowed hard. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t run now even if he wanted to. He’d probably pass out on the floor again. That wasn’t a coping strategy. It was a recipe for disaster.

  It didn’t matter. He’d get treatment. He’d be fine. Soon. Eventually. He’d be fine. Even without Kara. He’d move.

  What was he talking about? He was going to fall apart. Two or three days. That was his limit, give or take. It would be less with stress. Much less. If he didn’t find a way to stabilize, his body would make the choice for him.

  Where was he supposed to get touch?

  Kara. He needed Kara.

  Guilt slammed into him. Was that what she was to him now? A need? A system reset?

  She was his sister. He loved her. That was his motive… wasn’t it? She didn’t deserve this.

  But it was hard to hold back the panic. Stupid needs. Stupid body.

  Lev shut his eyes. He was disgusting. He wasn’t supposed to depend on her this way. She needed him now. He had to find her. But what if she was—

  No. Stop!

  He wasn’t going there. He glanced at Jeron. Anything was better than being stuck in his head like this, even if Jeron hated talking. “So, how long have you known Teorin?” he asked.

  Jeron glanced back at Lev in the rearview mirror. “A long time.”

  What an effusive answer. Unfortunately for Jeron, there was nothing to do but ask questions. “Like 5 years, a long time, or like decades a long time?”

  The purr of the engine was the only sound for a few moments. Finally, “Decades. I’m an old family friend.”

  “How old?”

  “I went to college with his father.”

  The father Teorin had said was dead. “Sorry. Teorin mentioned that he died.”

  “Yes,” Jeron said shortly.

  Not the best start, but at least Jeron hadn’t shut him down completely. “So did you just go to school together, or did Teorin’s dad work for the Novem too?”

  Jeron studied Lev in the mirror a moment before his gaze flicked back to the road. “Geran, Teorin’s father, also worked for Novem. The Davorn family has a long history with the company.”

  “And your family?” Lev asked.

  Jeron chuckled. “My family? No, certainly not. Geran recruited me.”

  Too bad he wasn’t in on the joke. Lev shifted the seatbelt again, then asked. “What did he do? Geran, I mean.”

  “He was an archaeologist. He specialized in urban planning, you might say, but for alien species, which was important to us. A lot of the ruins that we look at are overgrown, buried in jungles. Geran predicted other dig sites based on the locations of other finds, and he was good at it.”

  Jeron’s hands tightened on the wheel. “He was a good scholar. Wasn’t one to just sit and read books. Always seemed to be building some kind of model,” Jeron said with a snort. “He often went on expeditions. He liked to be on site, lead digs as they went.”

  Wow, that was probably more words than the rest of their conversation combined.

  “What happened to him?” Lev asked.

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  “This is a lot of questions. Answer a question for me, and I’ll answer yours,” Jeron said.

  “Alright,” Lev said, a little apprehensive. What information could he have that Jeron would want?

  “If your sister had the chance to look over all the pages, would she need the physical pages as a reference anymore? Would she remember enough to work on and translate everything from memory?”

  He felt slightly nauseous. Was it really going to come down to that? If Kara had potentially new information, they would look for her, and if not, tough luck?

  “The answer to that question isn’t as clear cut as you might think,” Lev said. “So, why do you ask?”

  Jeron shrugged. “She doesn’t have access to those pages anymore, but she might still make important discoveries.”

  Lev’s stomach twisted. He hadn't mistaken Jeron's probing. This really was about how valuable Kara would be.

  She wasn’t a person to him. She was a variable to be calculated.

  He could lie. Tell Jeron that Kara would definitely remember, but what if this was some sort of trick question. Then again… what did Jeron have to gain from tricking him?

  Truthfully, he didn’t know. Kara’s memory wasn’t like his. It wasn’t even like their mother’s. It was somewhere in between. She was better at sounds. Vision was harder. Just because your eyes saw something, it didn’t mean your brain necessarily comprehended it.

  Lev held back a shiver. Regardless, Kara might still have a digital copy of the pages. That part of their plan last night seemed to have succeeded. Was that a good thing or a bad one?

  Either way, Kara could find more. That’s what Jeron wanted to know.

  Lev let out a long breath. “Like I said, it’s complicated. If it was a half-second glance, then no, she wouldn’t remember, but more than that… she would remember enough to tease out more, to tease out things other than what she knows just by looking at it.”

  “And how far did she get?” Jeron asked.

  “I’m guessing she looked through quite a bit, if only to get an idea of the flow and what was there, but I don’t know,” Lev answered honestly. “I only talked to her for a few minutes before she went missing. She just told me the basics. The lab and everything.”

  Jeron nodded.

  “Did you ask Kara to translate because she was expendable?” Lev asked quietly.

  Jeron tensed a little, but after a moment he relaxed. “You think I’m callous. I can’t really blame you. But no, I didn’t ask her because she was expendable.”

  “Then why?”

  “Kara is an excellent translator. Members of my staff have told me so. She’s also fast, but more than all that, she’s young. She isn’t an obvious first choice for something this important. I thought if we brought it to her, whoever was watching us might think we had something more routine.”

  Jeron’s reasoning made sense. Maybe it was true, but Jeron seemed far too at ease about tossing Kara aside if she wasn’t useful anymore.

  “So will you go after her?” Lev asked.

  Silence again. When Jeron spoke this time, his voice was almost gentle. “We don’t know where she is. If we can figure that out... then I’ll reevaluate, but until then, there isn’t much I can do.”

  “But you’ll look for her?”

  “We are looking,” Jeron said. “I have my people listening and watching. Teorin set some net alerts up to monitor for Kara’s suspected kidnappers last night.”

  “And Isi? Teorin mentioned he was looking for her.”

  Jeron sighed, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “Everything we have on Isi Rafinin da Silva is circumstantial. The only real reason to monitor her is that her boyfriend was seen in Kara’s building. Not exactly convincing evidence, and her family is powerful. I can’t accuse her of anything without something more, even within my own organization. Teorin’s suspicions have to stay between us.”

  Just perfect. They were getting into politics now. If they weren’t looking for Isi… Jeron hadn’t mentioned anything about the police or the government. Had they even brought them in on this? “But the police are looking for her, right? The TIA?” Lev pushed.

  Jeron looked slightly pained. “Not exactly.”

  “What exactly does that mean?” Lev asked.

  Jeron kept his eyes on the road as he said, “We alerted the authorities about the people who attacked you, but we didn’t inform them that Kara was involved. Our people are watching for her, but everyone else…

  “I understand you’re desperate to find your sister,” Jeron continued. “But what happened in Kalin Bay was a disaster on our end. The general public and local authorities still don’t know exactly what happened, and it needs to stay that way.”

  “Why?” Lev asked bitterly.

  “This might be our shot at getting off-planet, and we won’t throw that away. So we haven’t informed any governmental agencies about Kara, and we won’t.”

  If this was what it cost… was it worth it? Getting off-planet would be nice, but Aralin was nice too. They didn’t care about Kara. She was right. Novem had a closet full of bodies.

  “Why?” Lev snapped, trying to get his temper back under control. “How does erasing her benefit you?”

  “The fewer people who know about that document, the better. Kara’s involvement with us implies the translation of ancient documents; thus, the public can’t know. Teorin mentioned that he told Kara the stakes of all this. I don’t know if she told you, but those pages could change everything. But they need to stay out of the public consciousness. We need time.”

  “She disappeared the same day as everything else. You think everyone is just going to chalk that up to coincidence?”

  Jeron shrugged. “No, tragedy. They’ll assume she died in that fire. We just won’t do anything to contradict them.”

  “She’s dead. That’s your story?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s what you are going to tell my mother?”

  Jeron winced for the first time. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  Lev’s breath caught. Lies. All lies. And he was hurtling away from any chance to reveal the truth.

  “And me?” Lev asked quietly.

  Jeron didn’t look back this time. “You’re grieving.”

  “Grieving.” The word tasted like acid.

  “Yes. A temporary leave from public life to grieve seems fair, doesn’t it?”

  Maybe if it were real! But this? “If I was grieving, I’d go home to my mother.”

  Jeron grimaced. “You’re in a facility. Checked yourself in.”

  For a second, Lev couldn’t breathe. The words didn’t make sense—checked himself in?

  “My mom won’t believe that,” he managed.

  “She’ll have to.”

  She’d never believe that, not in a million years. Not when she knew what he needed. Cascades, she was going to panic. She’d fly out and try to storm the facility.

  And he wouldn’t even be there.

  “She’ll go to the press. As soon as I don’t call, she’ll go to the press. You don’t want that.”

  “We’ve already considered that,” Jeron replied. “If she contacts the press, we’ll handle it. You should focus on recovery, not damage control.”

  Lev felt his chest tighten because if they were doing this… there was never really a choice. He couldn’t go home, even if he got desperate. What was he going to—

  Stop!

  He took a deep breath, focusing back on Jeron. “So, you would trade my mother’s grief for that? Trade me? Trade a shot at finding my sister all for secrecy?”

  There was a moment of silence. Jeron glanced back then finally said, “I don’t enjoy doing so, but…yes, I would. I will.”

  The answer hurt almost as much as the burns. It settled behind Lev's ribs like a pulse of static. His hands curled into fists on his lap, more from fury than need for once.

  That ache would come later. Soon. And he had no way to fix it. He needed someone. Needed anyone but Jeron and this car and—

  Focus!

  He shoved the panic away. “Why? Why hurt us like this? All to get off-planet? Is sacrificing people really worth it?”

  “People are already dying, Lev. Just for asking too many questions. For getting too close to who knows what. Yours isn’t the only life on the line. People have been erased for centuries, and not by Novem. I’d like to stop it.”

  So, Novem would look for Kara, just as long as it was to their advantage and didn’t endanger their precious mission. Lev wanted to yell, to let his frustration out with the whole situation, but instead he took a deep breath and very slowly let it out.

  It didn’t make sense. Not really. Novem’s secret was already out: Teorin had been ambushed, the pages stolen. But Jeron was still playing like they held all the cards. Like controlling the narrative mattered more than finding Kara.

  Lev was an outsider. It didn’t matter what he thought. Arguing with Jeron would do no good. Teorin, though? He seemed more sympathetic. If Lev wanted Jeron on his side, making sure that Teorin was firmly in the we-need-to-find-Kara camp was his best bet. Fighting this battle head-on was asking to lose.

  His fingers curled tight on the seatbelt, the pain from his chest the only thing keeping him grounded.

  Jeron didn’t seem inclined to say anything else. Lev wasn’t sure he could stomach any more answers anyway.

  “How much farther do we have to go?” Lev asked.

  "Fifteen minutes," Jeron said, glancing at the clock.

  Lev nodded and let the conversation lapse. He pressed a hand to his own shoulder, trying to mimic comfort. It didn’t work. His body wasn’t fooled.

  So, he tried to concentrate on the trees outside instead of Jeron. If he thought about that last conversation too much, his temper would get the best of him. Somehow, he didn’t think that would help his case.