After breakfast, I trailed Mac to a waiting armored car. The exterior of the vehicle was so shiny that I could see nearly every detail of my reflection on its black surface. Two small flags sat on either side of the windshield, flapping lazily in the light breeze. Both were black with TOXIC’s crest embroidered in silver.

  A suit-clad guard opened the back door as we approached. The sleeves of his black TOXIC-issued jacket strained against his biceps when he moved. The space between his chin and his shoulders was nonexistent and sweat stained the too-small collar of his white shirt. A bulging, blue vein pulsed rapidly in the meaty flesh where a neck should have been. An assault rifle hung across his expansive chest, sending a shiver down my spine. The dark sunglasses covering his eyes hid what lied beneath, but I didn’t physically need to see them to know they were expressionless, unfeeling. His body radiated cold indifference. Despite the mugginess of the summer day, I pulled my jacket tighter over my chest as I climbed past him into the car.

  The moment the guard slammed the car door shut, I was plunged into eerie silence. I felt cutoff, isolated from the outside world. No noise from the busy streets penetrated the thick, bulletproof glass and armored side paneling of the vehicle. I shouldn’t have been surprised that the car was a fortress on wheels. The one I rode in to Penny’s sentencing had been similarly outfitted. It just hadn’t occurred to me there would be a need for the added security today.

  Not for the first time since arriving in Washington, I wondered just how ruinous the public perception of TOXIC was. During Penny’s sentencing, there had been a real concern that Coalition forces would stage a rescue and TOXIC had felt that our lives were at risk. But the added security now seemed excessive. Understandably, people were upset about Penny’s execution—I was upset over Penny’s execution—but I didn’t think they would take out their frustrations on Agency Operatives.

  After all, investigating the leak in our organization was part of my job. I uncovered a potential threat to our society and effectively disposed of it. And as much as I hated to admit it, the judge’s decision to hand down the death penalty wasn’t unwarranted. Traitors, spies for The Coalition, knew the risks when they infiltrated TOXIC. Just as I’d known the risks when I’d wormed my way into Crane’s compound in Nevada.

  These sentiments were the same ones that I repeated to myself every time I thought about Penny alone in a jail cell. I’d never actually been to Tramblewood, so I had no idea what her accommodations were like. But when I closed my eyes, I pictured a windowless concrete alcove with a stained mattress atop rusted springs and a tiny sink with a constantly dripping faucet that only put forth cold water. I could even smell the rancid odor of unwashed bodies and human waste. I imagined Penny, alone, curled into a ball on her uncomfortable bed; her fear increasing with each passing moment as her certain death loomed closer.

  I took solace in the fact that the last time I actually saw Penny she was stronger and more defiant than ever. She exuded determination and poise even as the prison guards nearly dragged her from the courtroom. Dr. Wythe and Mac may have been able to make me doubt the authenticity of the “memories” Penny had conveyed, but they couldn’t take away the pride that I still felt when I recalled Penny’s composure that day. Often I hoped that, were the situation reversed, I would have been as stoic.

  The car door opposite mine opened and a wave of hot air rushed in, followed by Mac. Car horns blared and bits of random conversations drifted through the opening. Once Mac was seated, a guard eased his door shut, tapped the hood twice, and we were off.

  Our chauffeur deftly maneuvered the oversized vehicle through the crowded D.C. streets. In sharp contrast to the previous night’s emptiness, the sidewalks were now teeming with people in mundane business suits on their way to work and parents ushering their children onto large city buses or into bright-yellow cabs that would take them to the testing facility. The skies were oddly devoid of any commuter traffic. I considered asking Mac about my observation, but realized I already knew the answer. Yes, vehicles were clogging the roadways, but upon closer inspection, I noticed that all the cars, buses, and taxis bore the TOXIC logo. Apparently, all road and skyways were restricted to authorized personnel only during the three week administration of the aptitude exam.

  A coldness, similar to the one I’d felt when I’d encountered the bodyguard earlier, enveloped me. The discord among the citizens must be greater than I first imagined if TOXIC was going to such extreme measures. It saddened me that the organization that had not only taken me in when I had nowhere else to go, but also countless other kids who were labeled outcasts because of their unique abilities, was now being condemned. While I was beginning to doubt my sunshine view of TOXIC and its upper echelon, I stood firm in my belief that the School offered Talented children a place to feel normal, a place to be themselves. And TOXIC had a crucial role in our society; defeating The Coalition and reuniting the country was imperative. I hated how twisted society’s view of The Agency was becoming.

  I stared out the deeply tinted window at the anxious faces of the pedestrians as we turned left on K Street en route to the testing center. Children gawked openly at the parade of cars bearing The Agency’s seal. Parents scolded their offspring for their boldness while sneaking sidelong glances at our caravan themselves. The city’s day-to-day residents walked with their heads bent, eyes intent on the gray cement beneath their feet, seemingly afraid of provoking any number of the armed Operatives stationed conspicuously on every corner.

  When we finally turned left off K Street and onto Seventh Street, I caught my first glimpse of the protesters. Armed guards lining the sidewalks clad in full riot gear held back men and women carrying signs proclaiming “Stop the testing”, “Our children aren’t animals”, and “Freedom of choice.” While I couldn’t hear them chanting, I could see their mouths moving and felt their angry energy. The scene made my large breakfast swim uncomfortably in my stomach and my heart pound painfully against my ribcage.

  My hands felt clammy, so I wiped them across the dark fabric of my pants. I wondered if this were normal. Did rioters show up in such force every year? Or was this new?

  “Damn idiots,” Mac muttered beside me, snapping me out of my reverie. He adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt and shook his head.

  “Is it like this every year?” I asked, eyes glued to the window.

  “To some degree. More this year than previous ones.”

  “Why don’t you arrest them?” The angry energy from the protesters was getting to me and my words had more bite than I intended. Mac’s stunned expression made me instantly regret asking. “I mean, it is illegal to speak out against the testing laws, right?” I tried to backpedal.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “No, Natalia, it is not illegal to protest. As long as the demonstration is peaceful, they are allowed to march and chant all they like. Besides, arresting them is what they want. It makes them look like innocent citizens and us look like villains. The last thing TOXIC needs is more bad PR.” Mac stared disdainfully out the window, nothing but contempt for the protesters on his face.

  I gazed at the crowd, too. Part of me wished I could join them. The more of their signs I read, the more I agreed with their stance. Why wasn’t there a choice? Why was testing mandatory? Blood testing was an invasion of privacy. I turned to Mac, ready to do battle. His expression stopped me cold. Mac gave a slight shake of his head, like he had read my thoughts and knew what I was about to say. I pursed my lips and stared straight ahead into the driver’s headrest.

  Two blocks, and what felt like one hundred years later, the testing center finally came into view on our left. The driver turned and drove up to the entranceway, parking in an area designated for “authorized personnel only.” I assumed Mac, and me by extension, must qualify as authorized personnel since none of the weapon-toting men patrolling the entrance tried to shoot us.

  When the same frigid guard held open the door for me, I made myself as small as possible as I climbed past. I didn’t want to risk touching him, like his lack of personality was contagious.

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  The guard didn’t acknowledge my gratitude and instead stared off into the distance.

  Mac joined me and together we walked up the front steps of the testing facility.

  Operatives dressed in Agency-issued clothing mingled in the atrium. Several turned, quieting their conversations when we entered, but in general, we went unnoticed. I searched the crowd for Erik. When I finally pinpointed his location, I was none too pleased to discover that he was huddled in the far corner of the huge room talking to Cadence Choi. Letting out a grunt of displeasure, I muttered good-bye to Mac and made my way to the duo.

  “I will see you this evening,” Mac called after me.

  I gave a dismissive wave over my shoulder in reply.

  Before I could make my way through the throng of Talents congregated in the center of the room, Erik sensed me. His head swiveled and his eyes darted around the room, searching. I tried to mask my irritation at having found him fraternizing with Cadence for the second time in two days. It wasn’t that I was jealous so much as I just disliked Cadence and knew the feeling was mutual. I fought hard to keep my features neutral. It was a losing battle.

  “Hi,” I said when I finally reached their corner. My voice was clipped, leaving no doubt that I was in a foul mood.

  “Morning, Tals,” Erik replied, his mouth widening into a huge grin.

  He wrapped his arm around my waist, hugging me to him. Instead of letting my body melt against his the way I normally did, I remained rigid. Sensing just how irate I actually was, Erik released me quickly, but kept the long fingers of one hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

  “Cadence is going to be the other administrator working with us,” Erik explained anxiously.

  He undoubtedly thought I was overreacting to the situation, but he also didn’t want to upset me further.

  “How nice,” I managed to squeak out through clenched teeth.

  “I am the team leader. My job is to monitor the subjects’ vitals and brain patterns while you question them,” Cadence said in a tone that made it obvious she was no more thrilled with this arrangement than I was.

  “Great,” I practically hissed at her.

  Erik’s grip on my shoulder tightened, and I turned to glare at him. His eyes were wide with concern, making me instantly regret my combative attitude. I didn’t like Cadence, but the unbridled anger I felt toward her was extreme, even for me. I took several deep, calming breaths and closed my eyes, hoping the darkness behind my eyelids would help me regroup.

  “I think I need some air before we start,” I said tightly. The urge to flee suddenly overcame me. I needed to get away from them, both of them. “I’ll see you guys up there.” I didn’t wait for a response; I fled to a seemingly empty corridor.

  “Talia, wait!” Erik called after me.

  I didn’t turn around. I needed to get my emotions under control before I faced him again. He was the only friend I had, the only person I trusted; the last thing I needed was for him to realize just how unstable I actually was. Fear at having Erik see me like this propelled me faster.

  I jogged the length of the dimly lit hallway, not stopping until I reached a neon exit sign over a heavily padlocked door. I pounded the door in frustration. When my physical display of emotion did nothing but make my hand hurt, I slumped against the cold, cinderblock wall and slid to the ground, defeated. I put my head between my knees and practiced breathing evenly.

  Footsteps echoed in the narrow space. For the first time I could remember, I wished that I was a Light Manipulator. Right then, I would’ve given anything to turn invisible.

  “Tal?” Erik said, tentatively touching the dark curls spilling over my shoulders and covering the sides of my face.

  “Please go away,” I whispered. My voice came out muffled as I spoke into the fabric of my pants. I couldn’t look at him. If I did, I might burst into tears or start screaming; neither sounded appealing.

  “Tal, tell me what’s wrong,” Erik insisted. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I just need a couple of minutes. I’ll be fine,” I tried to assure him.

  “You aren’t fine. You were ready to rip Cadence’s head off back there and I don’t really understand why. I don’t like her like that, at all…I don’t even think she’s cute,” Erik pressed. His tone was surprisingly gentle despite the fact that I could feel his exasperation.

  “It’s not that. I’m not jealous,” I declared emphatically.

  I wasn’t jealous, or at least that’s what I kept telling myself.

  “Okay. . . . Then what is it?” Erik asked slowly, not quite believing me.

  I hesitated. Why was I so upset? Why couldn’t I control myself? Okay, so maybe I was a little jealous of Cadence, but I knew that Erik was mine. He loved me. He wanted to be with me. And I knew Cadence’s only interest in Erik was the help he could offer her in training for her Hunters’ tryout.

  “Whatever it is, Tal, we’ll fix it. I’ll fix it,” Erik promised.

  He gently placed his hands on the sides of my head, forcing me to meet his gaze. The love and concern on his face made me want to cry. He pressed his forehead to mine and I closed my eyes to better concentrate on the strength of his feelings, letting them envelope me.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong,” I began. “I think it’s just everything that has happened…the stuff with Penny…your letter…last night down in that train station. And then today, did you see all the security? Is it really necessary? I’m so confused and…. I don’t know what is going on or what to believe and then, to top it off, I can’t seem to control myself. My mood swings have been out of control, and I know sometimes I’m overacting, but I can’t stop myself.”

  As I rambled, Erik wrapped his arms around me and stroked my back. Now that I’d started talking, I couldn’t seem to stop. Fears and emotions were tumbling out of me faster than water from a gushing hose. The release of so many bottled-up feelings felt good, great even.

  “You’ve been through a lot lately, Tal. And I’m sure what you saw on your way here this morning was disturbing. Hell, it bothered me, too. I’ve never been through aptitude testing either. This is the first time I’ve experienced the protests. Cadence said this year is particularly bad. We’re gonna get through this. You just need to trust me. Don’t shut me out, okay?”

  “Okay,” I whispered against his cheek. I felt my anger fading away, leaving embarrassment in its place. “I’m so sorry, Erik.”

  Erik gently kissed my forehead, his lips lingering for several long seconds. My tension eased and the rage quieted completely.

  “Let’s go before Cadence sends a search party.” Erik stood and extended his hand to me.

  I gratefully allowed him to pull me to my feet.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

  “Me, too, Tal. Me, too.”

  I didn’t know what Erik was apologizing for. I didn’t care. I just wanted to get the day over with. Tomorrow would be better, I told myself. It couldn’t be any worse, right?