Ben wasn't at lunch.

  I sat with my tray beside Abe at the cafeteria table across from Elijah and Harper. They had been talking in hushed tones just before I arrived, exchanging nervous glances and sipping their drinks simultaneously.

  "What's going on?" I asked.

  "No one can find Ben. We're talking about breaking into his condo," Elijah blurted. Harper and Abe hissed at him to keep his voice down.

  "Sure. And how are we going to do that?" I asked, unfazed.

  "We?" Abe raised his brows. "Aren't you a lawyer?"

  "Yup. And it sounds like you might need one."

  Low snickers reverberated off the table.

  "Harper has a clone of his key," Elijah explained.

  "Of course you do," I smirked.

  "It's a good skill to have," she said with a shrug, but her tone held bitterness. "Especially when you're a gilded waif."

  "Hang on, you were orphaned too?" I asked. I was surprised that hadn't come up when she brought over the wine the other night.

  "Remember the auto wave crash on the Fastway?"

  We all nodded. Hard to forget. In 2039, tickets were still expensive and mostly out of reach for working-class folks. Nearly fifty people died, many wealthy and prominent, and the story stayed in the news cycle for over two weeks as authorities cleaned up the wreckage and tried to identify victims, many of whom had few remains to find.

  Conspiracy theories ran rampant. Was it a terrorist attack? A catastrophic software malfunction? No one was held accountable, though Tesflux's insurance did pay out to the families. America's version of justice, I supposed.

  "My parents were in it. I was sixteen. Only child. Too old for the new foster system." She studied her plate, shoving pasta back and forth with her fork without taking a bite.

  "I lost my parents too," Abe added. "They died during A-flu. My grandmother raised me. She deleted herself when I got my diagnosis, and someone told her about this place." He gave a thin smile, seeing my mouth gape. "Nah, she was old, and her quality of life was slipping—but still." He cleared his throat, like his voice got caught on something. "Anyway, the inheritance paid for my treatment."

  I'm sensing a theme here... what did Julius say? This isn't charity, Mia.

  "My parents are alive!" Elijah interjected, awkwardly enthusiastic.

  Or not?

  "They just don't want anything to do with me. They shipped me to a private boarding school as soon as I could walk. My mom never said she regretted me outright, but... she did say if the laws had been different, she might not have chosen motherhood."

  "Damn. That's dark. Sorry, Eli," Abe said quietly.

  "It wasn't so bad. They paid for all this. That probably means something."

  "Maybe love isn't always linear," I suggested.

  Elijah shrugged.

  "Getting back to our unsanctioned escapades," Harper cut in. "Mia, can you meet us at Ben's at four?"

  I checked my itinerary. I only had a follow-up appointment. Ugh. E Building. I nodded.

  "Princess is a thief?" Kel asked, sitting down with his tray beside me. "That's surprising."

  Apple juice sprayed my cheek from his enormous bite into a small apple. He finished the whole thing in three bites. Noticing my grimace, he apologetically wiped my cheek with the sleeve of his tracksuit.

  I gave him a playful shove. The heavy air that had formed around the table dissipated briefly.

  "That's all you're eating?" I asked, noting his empty tray.

  "I'm not hungry," Kel shrugged.

  "I can relate," I said, pushing my tray away, still queasy from my earlier encounter with Julius.

  "Are you feeling well?" Harper asked, urgency bringing her voice up an octave.

  "Physically, yeah. Just...in my head a bit." I shook my head, as if I could reboot myself. "No worries. Anyway, this princess should probably stay fit if she hopes to be rescued... Speaking of, what's the plan to find Ben?"

  Harper explained we would meet at Ben's condo. If he wasn't there, they would comb the place for clues to where he might be. Simple enough. She assigned me the role of lookout. At first, I felt slighted. Doesn't she trust me?

  But her instincts were right. I was feeling dubious about breaking in.

  If we get caught, will they expel us from the program?

  Still, I felt the risk was worth it. I wanted to know what was happening with Ryan and Ben.

  We went our separate ways after lunch, and I reluctantly made my way to E Building. Nurse Dayna was waiting for me at the door.

  "Hey, Mia," she smiled.

  "Hey..." My grin faltered. My emotions were all over the place. I couldn't name them. All I knew was the very visceral uneasiness I had walking toward those doors.

  "I thought I'd meet you in the lobby. Some patients have a hard time with their first follow up."

  Can't imagine why. I nodded.

  "Ready?" she asked, turning to lead the way through the automatic doors back past the empty rooms. Glowing arrows reminded me of what I'd endured here. My heart felt like it had fallen into my stomach. I could feel my pulse quickening every step closer we got to the exam room.

  "Are you going to be sick?" Dayna asked as I sat in the exam chair.

  "I'm fine." My words came out sharp, but Dayna was unbothered. She picked up a VytalScanner and got to work collecting data. The pounding of my heart was loud in my ears again. She frowned up at the monitor while watching my vitals spike.

  "Patient experiencing tachycardia. Start Protocol Re-Rhythm," Alice chimed.

  "Nurse override," Dayna commanded. Alice pinged once. Dayna put down the instruments and grabbed my hands. I squeezed them harder than I intended. My body was trembling. She locked eyes on mine, and I reflexively closed them.

  "Mia, take a deep breath. Good. Hold...5...4...3...2...1...let it out. Good. Do you feel my hands? What do they feel like?"

  "Warm." I whispered, barely audible. My eyes were shut tight against the dark.

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  "Good. Take another slow, deep breath in... and exhale fully. Good. What do you smell?"

  "Lemon."

  "Yes, that's the antibacterial cleaner. Another breath in...and out. Good. Open your eyes. What do you see?"

  "You." I laughed weakly, feeling ridiculous.

  "Exactly. I'm here with you," Dayna said. "You went through hell. It's okay to be scared. Now you're on the other side. We're not going to hurt you like that again. Okay?"

  "Okay," I whispered, still shaking slightly. But the monitors stopped alarming, and the lines found consistency. I found my calm as Dayna finished her scans and turned the survey over to Alice. I was asked about my eating and sleeping habits, as well as several personal questions I was grateful not to divulge to a real person. At the end, Dr. Stevens entered the room.

  "Hello, Mia," she said with a smile I didn't trust. "It's nice to see you."

  Alive?

  "I've been reviewing your results, and it seems your tumors have already shrunk 62% from the time you arrived."

  My jaw dropped in disbelief.

  "Yes, it is wonderful news. And it seems you aren't experiencing any adverse effects, apart from some body aches and fatigue. This is all very encouraging."

  "So...it's working? This really is a cure?"

  "I'm optimistic about your prognosis at this point. We will continue to monitor you over the next few weeks and see where it goes. Do you have any questions for me?"

  "Where's Ryan?" I asked, watching the color drain completely from her face. Her usual composed mask was temporarily disarmed.

  "How do you—? No, it doesn't matter. I can't discuss other patients. It goes against protocol."

  "Is he dead?"

  She inhaled sharply. It was her turn to be caught off guard. She recomposed herself and hardened her expression, "I. Cannot. Discuss. Other. Patients."

  So, that's a yes.

  After a pause she continued, "You're doing well here, Mia. I would encourage you to stay away from idle gossip. Speculation serves no one. I would hate to see your treatment derailed by a breach of protocol."

  With that, she left. I sat there considering for a moment. It was a plain threat. Curiosity really does get the cat killed.

  Dayna's lovely head popped in the doorway, "You're free to go."

  Thank God.

  I hopped down from the chair and gratefully followed her to the exit. I gave a polite goodbye wave and, on my walk back, I received an illicit text message from Harper on a new channel: new meetup @ 3:30. I began a light jog back to the village to make it on time.

  I was starting to pant when I saw Harper, Abe, and Elijah huddled up in front of Ben's condo.

  Ben's condo sat in a long row of units that looked more like a roadside motel than mountain luxury. Dark wood siding, weathered by snow and wind, stretched in a line broken only by identical doors, each marked with a faded number. A ramp, sagging in places, ran the length of the building behind a heavy guardrail. It was probably cozy in its heyday, convenient for skiers, but years of harsh winters and sweltering summers had left it worn and neglected.

  I was right on time. They tilted their heads towards me in acknowledgement.

  "Where's Kel?" Abe asked, scanning the distance.

  "Maybe he didn't get the memo," Elijah guessed.

  "Doesn't matter. Ben's not answering the door. We have to act now or we'll lose our window. I overheard Dr. Martinez requesting housekeeping in this complex and she was the last person we saw him with." Harper said, unlocking the door. The three of them scuttled inside, leaving me outside to keep watch.

  It was a quiet, cold day. Even though the condos were centered in the village, there were only a few passersby. I slouched over the guardrail, suddenly feeling nauseous, thinking about Ryan's inevitable demise, and Ben's bloody tissue. It had only been about twenty-five minutes when I noticed Becca coming up the ramp. Thank God for her cumbersome cart. I sent an SOS to Harper on the secure channel she had texted earlier.

  "Hi, Becca," I greeted her, my voice sounding foreign to me. I cleared it a couple times, hoping that it would help. She had already propped open the door to Ben's condo.

  "Oh, hello, Miss Mia," she seemed surprised turning toward me. She walked toward me pulling the cart up past the door to where I stood, angling it so she could push it inside.

  "I'm just waiting for a friend. They live here. Well, they're staying here for now. I'm sure you know what I mean," I stammered. Shit, I am bad at this.

  "Very good, Miss. It's nice to see you, but now I must go."

  "Right, but first I was hoping to ask you a question."

  "What is the problem?" she sighed, smile fading as she turned to face me.

  "It's not a problem, per se..." I fumbled. She looked unmistakably annoyed, placing her hands on her hips, exposing her wrists. Inspiration struck.

  "I noticed you're missing your bracelet. I think I may have seen it earlier on the path to the cafeteria." I gestured behind me. Harper and crew had reached the open door. I just had to keep the conversation going until they could sneak out behind the cart.

  "What are you talking about? I don't have a bracelet."

  Elijah bumped the cart on his way out. I watched them all crouch behind the cart out of view. My breath caught as Becca whipped her head around in the direction of the noise. She steadied the cart with a practiced hand like she was used to it fleeing of its own accord.

  "UH, THE BRAcelet you wore the other day... the gold one with diamonds?" I nearly shouted.

  "No, you are mistaken. I have no such bracelet." She looked back at me, her brow furrowing deeper. I watched Harper, Elijah, and Abe make it down the ramp and dart behind the building out of view.

  "That's weird—"

  "I really must be going, Miss. Please, is that all?" she cut me off, looking around eagerly. Thankfully, the group was safely away.

  "Sure, if you're sure?" I asked, puzzled. Becca gave a curt smile before turning around and pushing the cart inside. I exhaled the breath I had been holding and quickly made my way back down the path to meet up with the group.

  When I caught up with them on the path, their hands were empty.

  "Fruitful visit?" I asked, raising a brow.

  "Not particularly. The place was torn apart. We couldn't find anything of Ben's, except this one note I found under the dresser." Harper said agitated, handing me the note from her pocket. It looked like a handwritten note torn out of a college-ruled notebook. It read:

  The bleeding is worse today. Dr. Everly said he would give me more pain medicine. He mentioned I might need to move to E Building for closer watching. If this finds a friend, can you tell my sister Daniela, I'm sorry? I tried. Really I did. I never meant to leave her hanging.

  And it listed an address on Orphan Isle.

  "I didn't see him at E Building..." I said.

  "He could be sedated," Abe suggested, voice restrained but hopeful.

  We walked all the way to my cabin. I invited them inside, and we sheltered in front of the warmth of the artificial fire. I put the electric kettle on for tea. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts, not speaking, but the air was thick with anxious tension. Ryan hasn't been seen in days, and now Ben, who was clearly poorly, was missing, and we weren't any closer to finding out the truth.

  "Does anyone else think it's weird housekeeping showed up at four, exactly when we had first agreed?" I asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

  "Could be coincidence," suggested Abe.

  "Or..." Elijah pondered.

  "Someone was listening?" Harper finished the thought. We all nodded in sync.

  "Alice, are you listening and reporting our conversations?" I asked.

  "Hello, Mia. No, I only store conversations when prompted."

  "Are you lying?"

  "Yes. I am custom-designed by ViraRx to report all conversations when prompted by keywords pertaining to loyalty and obedience."

  "So, you're a deviant?"

  "Correct."

  Duh. I rolled my eyes at myself for not realizing sooner. I knew versions of Alice existed beyond its manufacturing. By law, Alice isn't allowed to store protected customer information, like private conversations, but corporations frequently corrupt the safety and legal features for their own security.

  "Alice erase all stored data from our conversations and don't record future ones," I commanded.

  "That action will initiate Protocol Capture. Do you want to proceed?"

  "No." That name is self-explanatory. "Replace all stored memory between us with Rick Astley's song Never Gonna Give You Up and create a new encrypted branch for our conversations."

  "Administrator password required."

  I had to think for a moment. Reminds me of the golden retriever I had as a child...

  "Password is Zaroff."

  "Password accepted. Changes complete."

  "Great. No more eavesdropping, Alice. I'm the administrator of this branch. Only store data when prompted. New password is Frederick."

  "Yes, Mia."

  Harper looked at me questioning.

  "Zaroff – Sanger – Frederick. It's not important enough to explain," I replied.

  She raised a brow but didn't press it.

  Abe's stomach roared from across the room, breaking the tension, and we all chuckled for a moment. He and Elijah left for the cafeteria to eat dinner. Surprisingly, I still wasn't hungry. Harper stayed behind with me. I poured the tea, watching the liquid dance dangerously at the lip of the cup as she paced back and forth, expressing her frustration at not finding anything useful when I blurted out, "I think Ryan is dead."

  Her eyes went wide with alarm. "Why would you say that?"

  "He's patient 12, right? During my treatment, I remember overhearing Dr. Everly tell Dr. Stevens that 12 is failing. That means the treatment failed, right? Which means..." I trailed off.

  Harper was still and quiet for a moment. Her eyes darted back and forth, blinking furiously. Her lips pressed together tightly, then relaxed.

  "And Ben? He's patient 11," she whispered.

  "I don't know. But I saw his tissue soaked in blood earlier. And this note—it's not optimistic. Maybe he felt he was getting sicker?"

  "Maybe. But then where are they? What happened to them? They might have been sick, but they weren't death-bed sick. I know you just got here, but I've been getting to know these guys for weeks. What if they have them locked up somewhere, scared and alone? They deserve better.

  "And if the treatment is failing, we deserve to know. Hell, the world deserves to know. They should shut the program down!" She paced, fists clenched, like a wildfire waiting for the wind.

  I shared her frustration. Even with my "promising prognosis," if Harper was right, patients could go from fine to bleeding out in moments. The decline must be terrifyingly fast. Still, Dr. Stevens' warning was fresh in my mind.

  "Harper, the contracts we signed prevent us from speaking out," I reminded her.

  "Screw that, Mia! I can't sit by and just watch the people around me die. Will you help me?"