“Mom?” My mother stood in the doorway of Derek’s apartment. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hi, Mia. I got your invitation.” She lifted her wrist, projecting a hologram of an engagement party invite from her watch. I stared, bewildered. “You haven’t seen this?”

  “No… we just made it official a couple of days ago.” My voice came out flat.

  “Sounds like Camellia,” she snorted a laugh. Oh right, you don’t like Derek’s mom. “I can’t say I’m surprised after you told us you were heading up to Maine. I assumed he was going to propose. But I was surprised when I stopped by your apartment—or should I say Lina’s apartment—to find you had moved out in the middle of the night. So, I called Derek, and he told me how to find you.”

  “Ugh, yeah, I have plans with her later to explain everything.”

  “Great. Well, I won’t keep you long, but I was hoping to talk for a few minutes. Can I come in?”

  “Uh…sure. Yeah.” I stepped aside. She shrugged off her charcoal peacoat and draped it over the arm of the sofa.

  “Coffee?” I offered.

  “Yes, please.”

  My hands shook as I poured, but I managed not to spill. I handed her the mug and sat next to her on the velvet cream sofa. She smiled, uncomfortable.

  “So… did you come to talk me out of it?” I guessed.

  “No.” She took a sip, steadying herself. “Mia, I know things have been difficult between us since Sophie. I wasn’t always there for you the way I should have been, I know. But you’re my daughter, and I love you. I want you to be happy. If Derek and ViraRx make you happy, then—”

  “But?” So over-rehearsed, Mom. Please just get to the point.

  “I think you should have all the facts before you decide.” Her voice rose slightly, defensive. “That’s why I came—to tell you why I left ViraRx.”

  Your timing is impeccable as always, Mother.

  I shook my head, sighing. Derek’s proposal hadn’t come with any overtly romantic gesture, only the gravitas of a desperate plea. It was the only way he knew how to shield me from the consequences of my choices. He offered me a path forward, and as undeserving as I was, I accepted.

  “Mom, your NDA—”

  “So be my lawyer,” she interrupted. “What I tell you is in confidence.”

  “Fine. Go on.” I braced myself, more to get through the conversation than from any real curiosity.

  She carefully set the mug down on the coffee table. “When I left, I was working on a new cancer therapy. I argued the preclinical data wasn’t strong enough for human trials—we needed more validation. My team disagreed. I refused to go forward with something I thought could harm people, so I left.”

  She paused, searching my face for a reaction, but I remained immovable as stone. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know her role in this. “After that, they pushed forward anyway. They cherry-picked data to fit the narrative Julius wanted. They began recruiting human subjects, and then the project went quiet. The rumor was that my colleagues were having an affair and ran off together. The project was officially paused. Unofficially…”

  She picked up her mug and sipped, hands shaking as she studied the ripples. Oh Mom, if you only knew the half of it.

  “I reached out to my colleague’s wife. Her bank was getting deposits from an account she didn’t recognize. She assumes her husband is still supporting her, which to me suggests two possibilities—”

  “You’re saying Julius is experimenting on human subjects off the books,” I extrapolated.

  “Yes. Treating people like petri dishes.”

  Nailed it. My internal groan was so loud I was sure the Hounds heard it. Too soon? Too soon.

  “That’s an enormous accusation, Mom, especially without proof.”

  “I have precedent.” She unfastened a diamond from her watchband and slid it across the table.

  A diamond drive?

  She tapped it. “In 2033, we produced the first Avian Flu vaccine, but it was actually our second generation. All the files are on this drive. Julius had us working on it long before the outbreak, back when the virus was zoonotic. There was no public funding then. Public trust in vaccines was collapsing, but Julius predicted the crisis. He personally bankrolled a small stock that we estimated was about eighty-five percent effective—”

  “Hang on—you mean ViraRx had a vaccine before, before people started getting sick?” My voice rose.

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  “For a handful of wealthy families, yes.” She didn’t flinch at my horror. “We couldn’t legally sell it as a vaccine. It never went through proper regulations. So, it was marketed under the table and sold as a supplement to the highest bidders.”

  “That’s monstrous.” The words escaped me. “Mom… billions of people died. And you could have said something?”

  “If I had, Julius wouldn’t have given us the vaccine.”

  “Us? Our family? But Sophie died!”

  “It was only eighty-five percent effective, Mia, but… I really thought she was improving—”

  “You let them take her!” My voice was sharp, hurling the accusation.

  “Let them?” Her voice cracked. “We pulled every favor we had. Your father was shot at the gate where they kept her. I stitched his arm up in our kitchen. Don’t you remember? We were lucky we didn’t lose him too. You have to understand this: the government and the military made those decisions ‘in the interest of public health.’ Not even Julius could get us in.”

  I sank into the sofa, a hollow ache threatening to pull me into the void as I tried to reconcile the memories: Sophie taken away, Mom clutching a bloody towel in the kitchen, Grammy and Grampa dying, and my classmates and teachers vanishing. I rubbed my hands over my face, stretching my skin, trying to absorb the information while wishing I could unhear it all.

  “You had the power to save millions, Mom. You could have exposed ViraRx, prevented so much—”

  “And be cut out of everything,” she said, her voice barely a rasp. “The government panicked, Mia. They turned containment into extermination. Julius was the only one still trying to treat people. That’s why I stayed. But when Julius started this new trial… I realized I’d already paid too much for this membership.”

  We sat in silence. Mom anxiously finished her coffee while I let these new revelations wash over me.

  “I’m not you. Derek’s not Julius,” I said finally, more to myself than to her. Cold gripped my skin like death himself reaching out to claim what had escaped, more than once, apparently.

  She pulled two tissues from her purse, handing me one. She dabbed her wet eyes and wiped her nose with the other.

  “And for that, I am grateful,” she said with a grim smile. “Maybe you two can change it from the inside. Julius won’t live forever, right?”

  She hugged me on her way out, but my arms were still stiff. I couldn’t hate her. I understood her. Maybe she could have prevented some deaths, but at least she hadn’t gotten a whole bunch of people killed… unlike me.

  I put the diamond drive away with my other jewelry, shutting the box with more force than I intended. Was it possible to be enraged and numb at the same time?

  It was nearly time to leave to meet Lina. I went to the closet for my coat when I saw the duffel bag still tucked away where I’d left it after Harry dropped it off. Begrudgingly, I pulled it out and sank to the floor. The zipper was warped, and I was only able to open it partway. The clothes inside were unwearable, melted to the lining, but there were two items that came out easily: Elijah’s glasses and Ben’s handwritten note.

  That was strange. I remembered Harper holding onto the note. I never saw her put it in my bag. And how was it pristine? Surely, it would’ve been destroyed in the fire. I went and put the note in my jewelry box.

  As for the glasses, I turned them over carefully in my hands. The lens was cracked, and they probably didn’t work, but after a moment’s hesitation, I put them on anyway.

  Elijah’s tousled auburn curls popped up in front of me, his hazel-green eyes locking on mine.

  “Hey,” he said, waving at a mirror. “I’m not really sure what to say. I think I was kind of in denial this day would come.”

  He coughed several times, raising a finger for one moment while he took a sip of water.

  “I guess to Mom and Dad…enh, screw that, you guys never gave a shit about me. I’d rather speak to the friends I made here. So to Kel, Ben, and Ryan… well, I guess I’ll see you guys soon. To Abe, thanks for tolerating my jokes and puns.” He laughed, remembering, and continued in labored breaths with a hand on his chest.

  “Mia, thanks for being the alto to my soprano. But also for your complete lack of self-preservation, I mean, really, we were basically strangers, and you were willing to risk your life for us. You might want to rethink your priorities.” He made a heart with his hands.

  “And Harper—thank you for never giving up on us. Always fighting for us. I hope you expose these clankers. No one should die this way.” He looked away for a moment, curls bouncing with his rattling breaths.

  “Oh—and if any of you ever see Riccardo… tell him yes from me. My answer was a thousand times yes.”

  He gave a small, breathless laugh. “Anyway, enjoy the montage.”

  I laughed, though it sounded distorted, like an off-pitch scale. Tears slid down my cheeks as clips from our time at the resort played across the lenses. I dared not try to wipe them in case it destabilized the video. Flashes of Harper, Abe, Kel, Ben, and Ryan rolled through my vision like the highlight reel of a film where every actor was already dead. Watching them felt like watching ghosts. Joy and grief tangled in my chest, carving deeper into the hollow ache.

  Elijah’s form reappeared on the lens as the last scene faded. “Okay Alice, delete upon playback.”

  “What? NO!” I stammered. But the words ‘Message Erased’ flashed red on the lenses. I banged my head back against the wall I had sunk down on.

  I threw the glasses across the room. The last evidence of the trial was gone. My friends were gone. I folded into myself, clutching my legs as sobs tore through me. I shut my eyes tight and collapsed under the weight of the blame. I replayed the clips in my mind over and over, committing them to memory. It was all I had.

  Eventually, I exhausted the tears. The shadows in the room had shifted. I wiped my face with my sleeve and blew my nose on the crumpled tissue from my pocket. My head still stung from where I’d hit the wall. I looked down at my watch screen and knew I was going to be late. I gathered my strength and found my footing.

  Numb again, I donned my coat and headed for the door. The halophone rang, making me jump. Reflexively, I flung my arms over my head, before recognizing the source. Pins and needles ran up and down my arms as I turned and quickly accepted the call.

  “Dr. Tran?” Her six-inch avatar hovered above the small, circular device, emitting a soft white halo from the kitchen counter.

  “Mia!” she exclaimed. “How are you?”

  “Oh… I’m fine,” I lied. “How are you?”

  “I’m well, thank you. I just wanted to check in because I saw some changes to your chart with my authorization on them, but I’m sure they aren’t mine. I’m surprised to see you in good health after this past month. I’m glad, of course, if there was some mistake, but I was wondering if you could come in for a few confirmatory tests.”

  “Oh… um, yeah, I guess I could.” My heart pounded. I felt like I was going crazy. I remembered how my body had been failing before the treatment, and yet Julius wanted us to believe my cancer was never real. At least these results would tell me if I was still dying…or maybe if I ever was.

  “Great! How about four o’clock this afternoon?”

  “Sure, see you then.”

  We hung up. I stood there, watching the fading halo, before finally leaving to meet Lina.