must be very frightened.”
Terrified, I was certain. Jillian was probably disguising her terror with anger. Logan was probably not bothering to hide it. But the important thing was they weren’t imprisoned in this horrid APR place, being neutralized. As long as they weren’t here, they would be okay.
Dr. Sheldon held up her palms. “Stand up for a minute. I need to examine you again.” She placed one hand on my forehead and one on the back of my neck, then closed her eyes.
I tried to think about nothing. Just empty space. Fog. As nice as she was, I didn’t want her inside my mind. Tristan was being nice too, and I couldn’t trust him.
After a few minutes, she took my chin in her hand, a frown on her face and alarm in her eyes. “I don’t know what it is that I’m seeing deep in that mind of yours, Tessa, but I don’t like it. You have me very worried. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here for a while.”
She made some notes in the file. “Completely neutral,” she muttered with a pitiful shake of her head, then closed the binder and tucked it in the crook of her arm. With a warning to Tristan to watch me carefully, she left, taking the binder with her.
* * *
Hearing all those awful lies about my parents and the guilt over causing all this misery to everyone I loved made me despise myself. Before Tristan could even offer a comforting word, I went into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. It was the only place I could go to escape from him.
I shed my clothes and stepped behind the shower curtain, then started the water. I washed myself again, scrubbing as hard as I had last night.
When I was five and Jillian was six, we were on a softball team. The Dragonflies. We were the best team in the league, and my sister was the star player, no surprise. She hit every ball. It wasn’t until I hit three home runs in a single game that our parents realized Jillian had been using her psychokinesis to control the ball the entire season. They made her stop. It wasn’t fair, they’d said. It wasn’t right.
My parents were ethical. Moral. Honest.
They had not blackmailed anyone. They had not murdered anyone. They had not lied to us this whole time.
They had not.
I ran my fingers over the scars on my belly.
Shattered glass.
No.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Dressed in my gray prison uniform, I shuffled out to the cell. I stopped short at the sight of Melissa and Philip—no, Amy and Heath—standing with Tristan. Instantly on guard, I lowered the fog, just a bit. Amy and Heath had been in on Kellan’s plot the whole time. Any kindness they’d shown me in Twelve Lakes was fake.
“Oh, Sarah,” Amy said, wringing her hands. “We’re so sorry.”
“Her name is Tessa,” Tristan said.
“That’s right. Tessa.” She brushed my cheek and I flinched. “I just want to check your injuries.”
“I’m fine,” I said, stepping away.
“I won’t hurt you,” she said. “I’m a healer. And Heath’s a safeguard. He feels awful he couldn’t protect you from Kellan. We both do. He sent us away Friday night and said he didn’t need us anymore. Neither of us knew he was going to do what he did.”
Heath, sighing regretfully, shook his head.
“Heath’s a bodyguard?” I asked.
“Not just a bodyguard,” Tristan said, “A safeguard. He protects people from physical and psionic harm. That’s why your dad couldn’t see me with his remote vision.”
So Tristan wasn’t one of the five percent who were immune to my father’s mobile eye after all. No wonder Heath was always around.
Heath clapped Tristan on the back.
“Hey, man. Thanks,” Tristan said, shaking Heath’s left hand with an awkward laugh. The knuckles on his right hand were bruised and swollen.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Amy sighed. “We’ll leave you alone. We’re just glad you’re safe now, Sarah—I mean, Tessa.”
I didn’t reply, and they turned away. The door sealed shut behind them.
“That day, when I pushed you away from the falling tree?” Tristan said. “The tackle fractured your collarbone. Amy healed it.”
I remembered how she’d run her fingers over my collarbone as I’d sat on her kitchen table, and how the pain had disappeared. “Oh.”
“And Heath was so upset about what Kellan did to you, he punched him.”
“He did?”
“While you were sleeping yesterday. He safeguarded his thoughts, then walked up to Kellan in the lunchroom and punched him in the face. Dislocated his jaw. The healers fixed Kellan right away, but Heath won’t let anyone heal his hand, not even Amy. He’s proud of those bruises.”
Heath had never even spoken in my presence. The idea of that sweet, shy man punching Kellan in my defense filled me with vengeful glee.
Tristan’s duffle bag lay open on the floor, another of his sweatshirts folded on top, this one white with royal blue lettering and a lightning bolt. On impulse, I slipped it over my gray prison top.
“You can make holes in the cuffs if you want,” Tristan said. “You did on my other one.”
“I did? I’m sorry.” I looked down at the sleeves. I’d already started rubbing the fabric with my thumbnails.
“It’s okay. I like it when you do that.”
“Lilybrook High Lightning,” I said, reading the sweatshirt.
“I went from the Lilybrook High Lightning to the TLC Thunderclouds.”
“You told me you were from Milwaukee.”
“Milwaukee is about four hours south of here.”
I traced the blue letters with my fingertip. “Are all the kids in Lilybrook undercover agents?”
He laughed. “No. Most kids in Lilybrook are just regular kids. But the people who work here at the APR are all psionic, and usually their kids are too. We can work here as interns once we’re in high school. I was interning in the lab back in March when Kellan asked me to help him out with his new case. He wouldn’t tell me any details, just that I’d have to live in a town called Twelve Lakes and wait for a family to move in, then befriend the kids to find out if anyone in the family had psionic abilities. I accepted the job. Being an investigator for the APR was all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“What about school?”
“I was a senior just weeks away from graduation. I had straight As and I already had enough credits to graduate. The APR arranged it so I could finish my senior year by correspondence. But I had to enroll as a junior at TLC because we didn’t know how long we’d have to wait for your family. When you still didn’t come by the end of summer, I had to postpone college and be a senior again.” He sank to the cot, chin in hand. “Taking this job was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
I refused to be impressed or to feel sorry for him. “I’m sure your father gave you lots of advice.”
He shook his head. “He was against it, even though Kellan told him it was a basic fact-finding mission and he’d arranged for a safeguard and a healer to be my chaperones. Combined with my warning premonitions, I’d be perfectly safe. My dad was still against it, but I was eighteen, so ultimately it was my decision.”
That’s right—Tristan was eighteen. He’d graduated high school. “There’s still so much I don’t know about you,” I said, “and you know everything about me.”