Malcolm returned with two coffees and a donut bag. He tossed the bag to Eve and positioned the two coffees in the car’s cupholders. He looked from Eve to Aunt Nicki and back to Eve. “What did I miss?”

Eve clutched the bag to her chest. Her hands shook.

“Trading beauty secrets,” Aunt Nicki said. She put the car in reverse, and they peeled out of the parking lot. Ten minutes later, Aunt Nicki pulled up to a featureless gray garage with a guard booth. There was nothing to indicate that this building housed a branch of WitSec, the Witness Security Program. A blue-uniformed guard checked her ID and Malcolm’s and shined a flashlight at Eve’s face, and then the garage door rattled up. Aunt Nicki drove in, and it lowered behind them. She pulled into a parking spot, diagonal again.

“You could straighten the car,” Malcolm commented.

“You could have driven.”

“Just saying, the next person is likely to think it’s straight and pull out and—”

“Maybe have to turn the wheel. Yeah, that would be so terrible. I don’t think so. Parking perfectionist. You have issues.” Aunt Nicki and Malcolm both stepped out of the car. This time, Eve didn’t get to enjoy the moment of silence when they both shut their doors; Malcolm yanked hers open immediately. She wished she had a moment to regroup. Or a day. Or a year.

Still clutching the bag with the jelly donut, she stepped out of the car. She regretted it instantly. Cage, she thought. Her eyes darted around the garage. Walls, close. Ceiling, low. She headed for the door, striding quickly.

“Look at that, she remembers the way,” Malcolm said softly behind her.

“She’s been here enough,” Aunt Nicki said.

“Not this level. Usually we park on C.”

“Whoo-hoo, it’s a miracle,” Aunt Nicki said. “You read too much into everything.”

“And you have the patience of a five-year-old.”

“Part of my charm,” Aunt Nicki said. “Just for the record, I don’t approve of any of this. You’re taking too big a risk.”

His mouth quirked. “Lou believes I don’t risk enough.”

“He just wants different kinds of risks, whereas I think you’re both insane.”

Eve halted in front of the door. She wanted in. Now! She pushed on the door. It didn’t budge. Malcolm reached around her and waved his ID card in front of a panel, and then the door unlocked with a snick sound.

Inside wasn’t much better.

Bright lights filled the hall and reflected off silver-and-white walls. The air tasted stale. She didn’t think she’d ever noticed that before, but it felt like chalk on her tongue. Outside tasted damp. Home tasted mildewy. The library tasted like warm dust.

“Let her lead,” Malcolm said.

“Lead where?” Aunt Nicki asked.

“Out,” Eve said. She counted her steps—twenty-five to the elevator. She pushed the up button, then stepped inside when the elevator opened. Malcolm and Aunt Nicki scooted inside after her as she pressed five.

“Five?” Aunt Nicki asked. “But that’s—”

“Shh,” Malcolm said.

“Out,” Eve repeated. She was certain of it.

The elevator doors slid open. Eve strode forward, trusting instinct or memory to lead her. She turned left and then right. She halted in front of a massive steel door.

Two armed guards on either side shifted as they watched her. She touched the elaborate gears of the lock. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this isn’t … Malcolm flashed his badge. So did Aunt Nicki.

The guards twisted wheels on either side of the door, and Malcolm punched numbers into a keypad. The steel door rolled open. Eve hesitated for an instant and then walked inside. Immediately she felt the coldness suck against her skin. She walked through a blank corridor toward the next door.

Malcolm placed his hand on a pad. It scanned his palm, and the door slid open. The next door required a combination code, which Aunt Nicki entered. The fourth set of doors was guarded again. One of the guards radioed for permission, which was granted.

As the last door slid open, Eve prepped herself. This is it, she thought. She could feel it, her destination. Malcolm gestured for her to proceed, and she strode forward.

Inside … it was empty.

She halted in the center of the room. Spinning, she looked in all directions. The room was vast, with a silver ceiling far above them. The walls were bare silver, smooth and cold. The floor was spotless white. Except for the door they’d come through, the room was featureless.

All the certainty drained out of her, flushed away. She started to shake again. This wasn’t … She didn’t know this place. Or at least she didn’t remember it. It was just a room, an empty room.

The two agents watched her.

Eve circled the perimeter of the room. Her reflection followed her, crisp on the silver. She saw no reason for this empty room to be guarded, and she didn’t know why she’d been so sure this was her destination. This … this was nothing.

“You were expecting a big breakthrough, weren’t you?” Aunt Nicki said to Malcolm.

Eve felt empty inside, as empty as the room.

Malcolm held his hand out to Eve. “Come with me.” He sounded tired and sad. “There’s still time.”

“Not much,” Aunt Nicki said softly. “Not much.”

Eve crossed the room and took Malcolm’s hand. His hand was warm, but she felt cold inside and out.

Eve let the agents lead her out of the silver room. On her right, Malcolm cupped Eve’s elbow gently. On her left, Aunt Nicki gripped Eve’s upper arm so hard that Eve could feel each fingernail denting her flesh, as if Aunt Nicki’s nails were coated in steel instead of wine-red nail polish. Eve felt numb inside, as if every ounce of energy had been drained by her failure.

As she and the agents exited, Eve saw that the security guards were staring at them. Both Aunt Nicki and Malcolm ignored the guards, but Eve stared back. One guard flinched and looked away. Surveillance cameras swiveled to record them as they passed through the other doors. The second set of guards did not react.

Aunt Nicki stabbed the elevator button with her index finger. In silence, Eve watched the numbers flick up to five. The doors slid open, and the two agents shepherded Eve into the elevator. Pivoting in sync, they flanked her, and Malcolm pressed number three. The elevator doors slid shut. Neither agent looked at her.

The elevator lurched downward, and tinny music echoed. Eve listened to it and pictured a carousel, shrouded in fog. A memory? A vision? Neither?

Aunt Nicki said to Malcolm, “Lou is going to rip out one of your balls.”

“So long as it’s not the right one,” Malcolm said. “Right one’s made of steel.”

“He’ll rip it out, pickle it, and display it at the holiday party between the poinsettias.”

The music swelled. A thin, sour flute squeaked the melody. Eve tried to think of something, anything, to say to the two agents, especially to Malcolm, who had believed in her.

“Man of Steel Balls or not, Lou has your kryptonite,” Aunt Nicki said. “You can count on it. Whatever it is, he’ll have ferreted it out. It’s his modus operandi.”

“She is my sole concern,” Malcolm said. “He knows that.”

The elevator lurched to a stop, and the doors opened. Eve saw drab brown walls. A plaque directed visitors to the reception desk. “I remember this place,” Eve said. She meant it as a peace offering—at least her mind hadn’t utterly betrayed her.

“Fantastic.” Aunt Nicki shoved Eve forward into the hall.

Malcolm strode past her, and Eve trailed after him. She did remember the third floor. She’d spent days here before they’d moved her to the house on Hall Avenue. She knew the blue carpet, worn in spots and patched with duct tape. She knew the fake plants, brilliant green and coated in dust. Several office doors were shut, but a few were open, and she saw file cabinets and chairs, framed diplomas on the walls, family photos and coffee mugs on the desks—all familiar.