“Nothing ever happened again between me and Avery,” Cord said slowly. “We’re just friends.”
Rylin had figured that out eventually, once Avery left for Europe and started dating that Belgian guy or whoever he was. She felt a little foolish. “You don’t owe me an explanation,” she said quickly. “It was all so long ago, it doesn’t matter anyway.”
“Except that it clearly does matter.” Cord’s eyes were unreadable. “I wish you’d said something,” he added softly.
Rylin felt her blood hammering underneath her skin. “Hiral and I got back together,” she felt a sudden need to say.
“Hiral?”
Rylin knew what Cord must be thinking. He was remembering what Hiral had done last year when she’d been working for Cord. “It’s different this time,” she added, not sure why she was explaining herself to Cord anyway.
“If you’re happy, Rylin, then I’m happy for you.”
“I am happy,” she agreed, and she meant it; she was happy with Hiral. Yet somehow the statement had come out a bit defensive.
Cord nodded. “Look, Rylin, can’t we start over?”
Start over. Was that even possible after everything they’d been through? Perhaps it wasn’t a start-over as much as a start-from-here. It sounded nice, actually.
“I’d like that,” Rylin decided.
Cord held out his hand toward her. For a moment Rylin was startled at the gesture, but then she tentatively reached out and shook his hand.
“Friends,” Cord declared. Then he reached for the VR goggles to begin his section of the lab.
Rylin glanced over at him, curious at something she thought she’d heard in his tone, but his expression was already hidden behind the bulky mask of the goggles.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Leda turned down the hallway toward the main entrance of the Berkeley School. The other students moved in coordinated flocks around her like uniformed birds, all wearing the same navy pants or plaid pleated skirts. Leda watched as they formed into groups, only to exchange a few snitches of gossip before breaking off again. The halls were thick with that frantic back-to-school hum, everyone rapidly recalibrating their relationships after three months apart.
Thank god some relationships didn’t change, she thought gratefully as Avery emerged from a classroom across the hall. Avery had no idea just how much Leda had needed her.
She was oddly glad that Avery had insisted she come to Cord’s the other night. Leda hadn’t exactly been the life of the party—it all felt so garishly loud and bright, and she kept worrying that the darkness would open up within her again, like an earthquake that might erupt at any moment. But nothing all that bad had happened. Actually, Leda realized, it had felt good, doing something almost normal again.
“Come with me to Altitude?” Avery asked, falling into step alongside her. “There’s a new thermo-shock yoga class I want to try. Super hot for the stretch, freezing for the cooldown.”
“I have some studying to do tonight,” Leda said, adjusting her crossbody bag over her shoulder.
“Our first day back? We don’t even have any homework yet!”
“It’s my SAT tutor. I need to push my score above a three thousand.” Leda was applying to Princeton. Her mom had gone there, and lately, Leda had found herself trying to be more and more like her. It was a new impulse, given that she’d spent the first eighteen years of her life trying to be the opposite of her mom.
“You’re welcome to come with me, if you want the extra practice,” she added, but Avery shook her head.
“I’m not taking the SAT. Oxford doesn’t recognize it.”
“Oh, right. Because of Max,” Leda said lightly as they walked through the school’s massive stone gates and out into the fabricated sunshine. Though Leda had to admit that she’d been pleasantly surprised by Max. He wasn’t at all what she’d expected. She couldn’t imagine being attracted to him herself, with his shaggy hair and eclectic Euro style; the way his attention flitted between distraction and sudden, intense focus. But she sensed something fundamentally warm and sturdy about him. He was the type of boy you could trust with your best friend’s heart.
“I wanted to go to Oxford before Max, remember?” Avery insisted, though a goofy smile played around her lips at the mention of him.
Leda froze at the unusual sight of two police officers lingering just past the school’s entrance. Their relaxed poses didn’t fool her one bit. They were watching the ebb and flow of students around the edge of the tech-net, looking for someone in particular.
Leda knew, with an instinctive animal certainty, that they were here for her.
One of the police officers—or maybe they were detectives?—met her gaze, and the flash of recognition in his eyes confirmed her suspicions.
“Miss Cole?” he asked, stepping forward. He was pale and plump, with a curling dark moustache and a name tag that said OFFICER CAMPBELL. In contrast, his partner was a young woman named Kiles; tall and willowy with a dark bronzed tan.
“That’s me,” Leda said reluctantly.
“We were hoping you would come down to the station, answer a few questions for us.”
“Leda . . .” Avery whispered, and bit her lip in alarm. Leda held her head high, ignoring the frantic pattering of her heart. On some level she had known that this day would come.
She just didn’t know which of her many transgressions she had to answer for.
“What is this regarding?” Leda was proud of how cool and unconcerned her voice came out. But then, Leda had plenty of practice at pretending not to care about things that actually mattered.
“We’ll fill you in at the station,” said Officer Kiles. Her eyes cut significantly to Avery. Through the haze of her panic, Leda felt a sharp curiosity. Whatever this was, it was confidential.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t just question my friend without reason,” Avery cut in. She had that stubborn, protective look she’d inherited from her father. “Do you have any paperwork?”
Kiles swerved on her. “Avery Fuller, right?”
The fact that they knew her name didn’t subdue Avery one bit. She was used to being recognized, especially these days. “If you think I’m going to let you drag my friend off without any formal request—”
“We’re not dragging anyone. We were hoping that Miss Cole would come voluntarily,” Kiles said smoothly.
“It’s okay, Avery,” Leda cut in, though she was touched by Avery’s defense of her. She knew what would happen if she told the police no. They would just go get whatever paperwork they needed, meaning she would still end up there involuntarily. And with far fewer niceties.
“I’m happy to come,” she told the officers, trying to project more confidence than she felt.
“How are you doing, Miss Cole?”
Leda barely refrained from rolling her eyes. She’d always hated that question. It reminded her far too much of what her therapist would ask.
“I’m fine, thank you.” She knew the police didn’t actually care how she was doing. The question was a vacuous courtesy or perhaps some kind of test.
She tucked her heels behind the legs of her dented metal chair and glanced impassively around the interrogation room. She didn’t see the telltale shimmer in the air,