"Oh, please." Isabel groaned. But her stomach had clenched so hard, it felt like it was the size of a tennis ball. She knew Lucinda wasn't above making stuff up for her site. But there was no way Lucinda would make up something that made Stacey look good. Saying they weren't compadres was quite the understatement. So Alex and Stacey… Isabel shook her head. That just was not right, not after all the mean, catty little things Stacey had said about Alex in the locker room.

Isabel toyed with the idea of posting a response saying exactly that. But it was so not an Isabel move. She would have to-

Suddenly the letters on the screen began to glow. Brighter, brighter, until it hurt to look at them. And still they grew brighter. Isabel closed her eyes, but the light was so strong, it felt like it was penetrating her eyelids.

She fumbled for the computer's off button and finally had to crack open her eyes to find it. Screaming white letters hurtled off the screen. She could feel them penetrating the soft flesh of her eyeballs. The pain was excruciating, and Isabel could do nothing to stop it.

All she could do was cover her face and scream.

Michael burst into Isabel's room. "Izzy, what happened? What's wrong?" he demanded.

She screamed again, her hands still pressed tightly to her face. Michael gently pried away her hands and held them in his own. Isabel didn't look up at him. She kept her eyes screwed shut.

"Tell me," he pleaded. He could feel her fingers twitching. "Tell me!" he repeated, forcing some harshness into his voice.

Isabel opened her eyes, but only the tiniest bit, as if she was afraid of what she'd see, then let out a shuddering breath and opened her eyes all the way.

"I'm all right," she said, not quite looking at Michael.

Footsteps pounded down the hall. "Isabel, are you okay?" Mrs. Evans called.

Michael dropped to the floor and wriggled under the bed. Yeah, the Evanses referred to them as their third child, but that didn't mean they'd be happy to see him in Isabel's bedroom at four in the morning.

He heard Isabel's door open. "I had a nightmare," Isabel explained before her mother could say a word. "I fell asleep at the computer."

Michael heard the mattress squeak above him, and he figured Isabel and her mom had just sat down on the bed.

"Want to tell me about it?" Mrs. Evans asked. "Sometimes that helps."

"I don't… I can't remember," Isabel answered.

"That wolf you used to dream about hasn't come back, has he? Because I'm ready for him if he has. I still have a can of the wolf repellent," Mrs. Evans teased.

Michael remembered that wolf repellent. It was a can of hair spray Mrs. Evans had decorated. She'd march into Isabel's room and dewolf it every time Isabel had one of her bad dreams.

"Thanks, Mom," Isabel said. Michael thought he could hear a trace of tears in her voice, and the muscles in his shoulders and neck tensed up. Isabel wasn't a crying kind of girl. "I'm really okay. You should go back to bed," she added.

"You try and get some sleep, too," Mrs. Evans answered. Michael listened as her footsteps crossed the room. He waited until he heard the door close behind her, then he rolled out from under the bed and pushed himself to his feet.

"What happened?" Michael whispered.

"Weren't you listening? I had a nightmare," Isabel whispered back, sounding seriously annoyed.

Michael sat down next to her. "Don't even try to lie to me, Izzy lizard," he said, using the nickname he'd come up with when she was a little girl.

"It's… I'm really stressed, okay? And I was reading Lucinda's web page, and I found out that Alex had a make-out session with Stacey! I kind of freaked," she explained, tripping over her words. Michael didn't buy it for a second.

"You should have stuck with the nightmare story," he told her. "I mean, the thought of Alex and Stacey together is disgusting-but it would get more of a puking reaction than the scream you let out."

"I don't puke," Isabel informed him with a hint of her usual 'tude.

"Oh, right. What was I thinking?" Michael pushed a damp, sweaty clump of hair behind her ear and studied her face. Her skin had a grayish tint, and she looked like she hadn't slept for days. She looked the way Max had when-

Michael felt like a giant fist had jammed itself into his chest and started squeezing his heart. "It's the akino, isn't it?" he asked.

Isabel opened her lips to speak, but no words came out. She simply nodded instead.

She can't end up like Max, Michael thought. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't lose them both. And Max was lost to him, except for little chunks of time here and there. Michael had had to face that just minutes before. He'd stood in front of Max, calling his name, and Max hadn't even known Michael was there.

The hand in his chest had finished with his heart and moved on to his lungs, squeezing until Michael found it hard to breathe.

"What am I going to do?" Isabel asked.

Michael didn't know what to tell her. How to protect her. He wanted to throw back his head and scream in fear and frustration. Yeah, that would make Izzy feel a lot better, he thought, feeling disgusted with himself. He was so lame at this comforting thing. He wished Maria were here. She always knew how to make people feel better, even if it was only with a touch.

Michael struggled to suck some air into his flattened lungs, then reached over and pulled Isabel close to him. He buried his head in her hair. At least he could do that without screwing it up.

"You were supposed to tell me that you'd take care of it," Isabel said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

The hand began crushing his ribs, sending splinters of bone into Michael's body. He was Izzy's second big brother. He was supposed to tell her that he'd take care of it. But if he did, they'd both know it was a lie.

He forced himself to spit out the words that he didn't want to say and that she didn't want to hear. "Maybe I should get the communication crystals. I don't want you to have to suffer like Max-"

Isabel jerked away from him, her blue eyes dark with emotion. "You want me to connect to the consciousness?" she cried.

"I don't want you to. I don't want to have to do it myself. But what choice-" Michael began.

"You said Trevor told you that you won't die if you don't connect to the consciousness. He said that was just what the beings of the consciousness wanted you to believe," Isabel burst out. She jumped up and straightened the already straight row of books on the shelf over her computer.

"As much as I hate to admit it, we don't have a lot of reason to trust Trevor," Michael reminded her. "He said he'd gone through his akino without making the connection, but he also said he'd come to Earth to find me. He didn't mention the part about planning to steal the Stone, or finding DuPris, or wanting to kill Max. So basically everything that came out of Trevor's mouth could have been crap."

Isabel whirled back to face him. "The rebellion against the consciousness-if it wasn't led by DuPris, I'd join up in a heartbeat. Maybe Trevor was just waiting to tell you the truth about everything until he knew he could trust you."

"If the rebellion isn't more Trevor bull, maybe there is a way to survive the akino without making the connection," Michael said slowly. "It's not like you could rebel while being part of the consciousness. Look at Max. He's a zombie half the-"

Hey, genius. That's probably not exactly helpful to Isabel, Michael told himself.

"He is," Isabel agreed quietly. "And that's why I can't join, even if it means…" She let her words trail off, but it wasn't as if they both didn't know what she was about to say-even if it means dying.